MARBLE & SALT (Lesbian)

Chapter 15 THUNDER, FEEL THE THUNDER

We are both confused looking at each other. Her wet black hair has become curly, her slightly slanted eyes, framed by black eyelashes, seem to be brush painted with Chinese ink. She is awkwardly rubbing her forearm.

"Uhm, listen. I... well, you are no better than me! You were sure that I was fucking my own brother!"

"I repeat once again that I had no idea he was your brother! You were practically hanging on him like he was a tree branch!" I pout my lips moodily.

"I didn't do this!" exclaims the witch.

I'm the first to laugh, "You scared the red-haired girl so much that she ran away. Who is she?"

"Didn't you get to know each other closely?"

I open my mouth to argue with her, but I understand that she's just joking. The attack of unreasonable jealousy passed, and the witch began to calm down.

"This is Alba's friend. I don't think the redhead just came here by mistake. Probably, she was trying to sniff out something. The residence is always full of rumours, maybe someone saw that I came back late at night with you in my arms."

"Or rather, someone blabbed it out," I say boldly.

Hebe is jokingly swatting away my assumption, "These old bats can keep secrets. A doctor's confidence is sacred. Hahaha!" she's laughing at her own joke.

"But I'm pretty serious, Hebe. Two healers were not our only company. Don't forget about Mika," I think I'm speaking calmly, but my voice betrays me.

"Mika is devoted to me. I have known her since her birth, so you shouldn't worry about her," the witch says absently.

"I would give anything to find out what you are thinking about now."

"Hey! That's my line, silly Velia," Hebe is laughing, and my heart is melting. "Let's go back to the bedroom."

I lower my eyes, "Hebe, I need to talk to your mother."

"Talk to whom? Did I hear right? Do you want to chat with Angerona?"

"I can't continue like this anymore: she either wants to kill me, then she calmly sends me to the very heart of her castle with her only daughter. You're the only daughter, aren't you?" Hebe nods in a puzzled way still processing what I have just told her, but she doesn't interrupt me. "She knows exactly who I am and what will happen to me, since she's a boss. I can't just sit waiting for her to forget about me. I need answers." I touch Hebe's hand; luckily, she does not move away. "Wait a minute, she's already back home, isn't she? Is she okay? Have you already spoken to her?"

Hebe is stretching the left corner of her lip. It looks like it's a crooked grin, but I did the same thing when I tried to hold back my tears. Before meeting the witch, I had never cried in public: usually I considered it as a sign of weakness, but with her I am ready to sob nonstop, just snap your fingers, Hebe, and I'm a waterfall: weak and submissive...

"I don't know if she came back from the hunt or not."

"I'm so sorry!"

"It's okay." Hebe interrupts the flow of my sympathy. "I'm pretty used to her behaviour. When I was little, it was certainly hard. We, witches, are strongly attached to our mothers. In any case, many of us: fathers live separately, this is if we know who our fathers are. Sometimes, witches just bewitch, sorry for tautology, the men they like, and then go back to their residences to raise baby witches together with the clan members."

"I'm sure she's fine! She's the Witch Queen!"

"I'm good, I've already told you. No need to worry about me," the witch mutters, but her chin trembles a little.