Release That Witch

When they were back in their apartment, Ferlin shook his head with profound resignation. "Why don't you think about it for a few days before you promise His Highness?"     

He had seen his wife skip happily all the way back home. In his memory, he had only seen her being that happy in their wedding.     

"No." Irene stuck out her tongue at him. "One day's delay will make me sleepless."     

[Yes, she loves drama so much. Back in the Longsong Theater, she used to practice all alone until midnight and frequently run over her lines with me. If it had not been for the duke, she would have moved from Flower of the Theater up to Star of the Theater.] At this thought, he hugged his wife from the back and said, "I'm sorry."     

"..." Irene patted his head. "It's not your fault. You were transferred to another city and couldn't stop him at that time," she said with a slight smile, "if you want to apologize, go to cook. I want to read the scripts first."     

"Well, well, well, I'll cook." Ferlin kissed her earlobe. "Meat porridge and fried eggs. Let's add toasted sausage to our dinner tonight to celebrate."     

This residence in the town was different from all the houses which he had lived in before. Took this cooking range for example. Unlike the open hearth in every household in Longsong Stronghold, which was generally located in the center of a living room, the kitchen stove here was set in a separate room. The back of the stove was connected to a flue, and the other sides surrounding the stove were covered. A movable baffle was arranged on the fume exit. When they were not using the stove, they could push it to block the exit in case that cooking fume from downstairs came out of it.     

Ferlin could easily think of the advantage of this design. Once the kitchen door was closed, the cooking fume and smell would not come into the living room and in summer, the temperature in the house would not be influenced by the heat out of the kitchen.     

He put some firewood and sawdust into the hearth and then lit the fire to cook for dinner.     

After dinner, Irene engrossed in the scripts again. When she finally put down the third book and heaved a long sigh, the candle was almost burnt out.     

"How's it?" Ferlin was bursting with curiosity, seeing her read the scripts for such a long time. He remembered she had been able to read 10 books like that in half a day back in the theater.     

"It's... hard to describe. Every story is different from the usual ones. I've never read anything like this! In 'Cinderella', the prince fell in love with a beautiful civilian girl instead of a princess... which isn't a rare thing, but he even insisted on marrying her. I'm wondering why His Highness didn't feel unhappy reading such an absurd story. Despite that, it's really a heart-thrilling story. I can't help but applause for the prince and Cinderella when I read the part where he found her again and put the crystal shoe on her feet," Irene exclaimed.     

"Another story 'The Crowing Cock in Midnight' has simpler plot compared with 'Cinderella', but it's very interesting, too. I think two to three scenes will be enough to tell the story clearly on stage. The part describing the serfs finally plucking up their courage to fight against the nobleman is well-written. The serfs were resigned to everything in the beginning and then they were driven beyond endurance. By creating a long foreshadowing, the author added dramatic tension to the ending and fully expressed their emotions. I felt really great reading it when the serfs decided to fight back!"     

"Serfs fight against a nobleman?" Ferlin knitted his eyebrow. [Nobles will never tolerate such a thing. If the serfs in the Eltek's manor dare to fight against their lord with hoes and shovels, my father will cut their heads and put them at the manor gate the very next day.] "Is His Highness really going to let you play such a story on stage?"     

"You haven't read them yet." Irene rolled her eyes at him. "You'll feel the same thing as I do after reading them. The serfs had to fight. The lesser nobleman had gone too far. They were so cruelly oppressed by him, but all they did in the end was wrapping him in a bag and beating him up. I think they were very restrained. After that, the nobleman wanted to put all the serfs to death, but a witch happened to pass by and stopped the noble by transforming herself into a well-known great noble in that place. Later, she even went to the Lord's castle to humble herself for the sake of the serfs. After a thorough discussion, the lord made a wise and merciful decision. He bought all the serfs and made them free civilians! I bet the audience will hail seeing this."     

[But nobles will definitely protest and press the theater. In the end, this troupe will be dismissed,] Ferlin thought with disapproval but another idea suddenly stuck him. [Wait, there's no other noble besides His Highness and Viscount Tigui in Border Town and the prince is the one who builds this theatre. Does it mean that he really just intends to play the stories for the common people? How much will he earn by doing this? If he really pays the troupe as Stronghold Theater did, he'll inevitably lose money on this investment. Does he just do this to amuse himself?]     

Irene, however, did not notice the look on his face at all and continued to say, "But my dear, wonderful as the two stories are, they can't compete with the third one, 'The Witch Diaries'. I wager that theaters in big cities like Redwater City or even the king's city will set up a troupe to rehearse and put up ads to ballyhoo the play once they read the script! I have to say, Scroll was a genius playwright. 'The Witch's Dairy' is way better than any play nowadays in terms of the story and narration skill."     

"Are you sure?" Ferlin found it quite funny when Irene talked about those scripts so seriously and asked, "Do you think it's even better than Mr. Kajen Fels' widely recognized works, 'For Rose' and 'A Prince Searching for Love'? They don't only hit in the king's city, but also attract troupes from the other kingdoms to watch and learn. I could hear Mr. Griffith's name all the time even in the stronghold."     

"Yes, trust me, dear," Irene told him the plots of the three stories roughly. "Despite the content, the narration style alone is creative enough. Plays before are written from a third-person view but this one is from the perspectives of the three witches. What they did affected each other's lives, but they didn't know it at all. In the middle part of the story, details that seemed irrelevant in the previous plots turned out to be coherent, and the witches became close friends. I must say this method of using multiple story lines to motivate the development of the plot will definitely make a stir, but not in Border Town. I doubt that the audience here will be able to see this point." In great excitement, she got paper and quill, ready to write letters. "I have to invite all my friends in the theater over as soon as possible. I can't wait to see the surprised look on their faces!"     

"Wait, Irene, don't you think... these stories are too irrational?" Ferlin came up to hold her hand.     

Hearing what his wife had said, he also found the stories very interesting and all characters, good or evil, well-written, but he just did not feel right hearing the parts about the witches. They were completely contrary to what the church preached and in the meantime, amazingly detailed. The third witch in the story, who was lucky to be brought up in a loving family and to release her power at her will, found out in the end that Demonic Torture was nothing but a lie and that witches were not different from the common people except for their ability to use magic power. In the story, the witches had feelings and would also be overcome with sadness when their loved ones died. Ferlin believed that once the church got this news and came to the town, His Highness Roland would be in real trouble. [Is His Highness really not afraid of the church?]     

"Irrational! No... Ferlin, before they became witches, they were ordinary girls, too."     

"Yes, that's true."     

"What about me? If I turn out to be a witch, will you think that I'm evil?" Irene stared at him and asked.     

"No, of course not. You're always the kind-hearted girl I know," Ferlin said hurriedly.     

"So what if we have a daughter who turns out to be a witch?"     

"That's impossible..." He suddenly closed his mouth and got what Irene meant. Judging a witch who he had never met was very different from judging his own relatives whom he got along with morning and night. How could he easily call them evil?     

"Yes, if we really have a witch daughter..." Irene nodded with satisfaction.     

"I'll love her and protect her like the father of the third witch in the story." The knight got down on one knee, acting as if he was taking an oath of allegiance.     

"That's the answer I want." Irene put down her quill and smiled slightly. "I think... we can try it now."     

"Yes, my dear," Ferlin whispered in her ear and then scooped her up, walking to the bedroom.