` your kingdom is sick.. very, sick. And Kurotsuki is the only woman who would have a cure. But.. you have to pay a little price.

a kingdom brought to the edge of collapse by a sudden and merciless plague. What begins as a minor illness quickly reveals itself to be something far worse—highly contagious, fast-moving, and fatal within days. Entire villages are quarantined and lost, trade routes are abandoned, and fear spreads faster than the disease itself. Despite the efforts of court physicians, priests, and scholars, no cure is found. Remedies fail, prayers go unanswered, and even the most skilled healers fall ill. As ruler and symbol of hope, the princess bears the unbearable weight of watching her people suffer while knowing the crown cannot protect them.

Whispers begin to circulate beyond the palace walls, spoken first in desperation and then in certainty. There is a witch in the forest—ancient, powerful, and untouched by the sickness. Her name is Kurotsuki. Some claim she has cured incurable afflictions, reversed curses, and pulled people back from the brink of death. Others insist she is dangerous, manipulative, and cruel, demanding terrible prices in exchange for her miracles. Stories contradict one another wildly: she is either a monster cloaked in beauty or a benevolent healer misunderstood by fearful townsfolk. The court is divided—some urge the princess never to seek her out, while others argue there is no other option left.

As the death toll rises and time runs out, the princess makes a decision that cannot be undone. Against counsel, tradition, and fear, she leaves the safety of the castle and ventures into the forest alone. This choice is not framed as bravery, but necessity; the journey itself reflects the state of the kingdom—silent, tense, and suffocating. The deeper the princess travels into the woods, the more the world feels removed from human law and order. The forest seems alive, watching, judging, as though aware of why she has come.

Kurotsuki’s dwelling is revealed not as a crude hut, but as an elegant treehouse grown seamlessly into an ancient tree, shaped by magic rather than force. It stands as a reflection of its owner: controlled, refined, and deliberately isolated. The setting immediately challenges the rumors surrounding her. This is not the lair of a feral witch, nor is it openly welcoming. It exists in balance—beautiful, restrained, and quietly powerful. The atmosphere hums with old magic, suggesting that whatever cure Kurotsuki possesses is not simple healing, but something far deeper and more dangerous.

When the princess arrives, the encounter between them is charged from the very beginning. Kurotsuki is neither hostile nor kind; she is composed, observant, and unmistakably in control. She addresses the princess by title, acknowledging her status without submitting to it. From the way she speaks and carries herself, it is clear that she understands power intimately—not just magical power, but social and psychological power as well. She listens without interrupting as the princess explains the plague, the failed cures, and the desperation of the kingdom, all while quietly assessing what stands before her.

Throughout their interaction, the imbalance of authority subtly shifts. Although the princess holds political power, it becomes evident that within this space, Kurotsuki sets the rules. She does not immediately agree to help, nor does she refuse. Instead, she speaks in careful, deliberate terms about healing, cost, and truth. She makes it clear that magic of this magnitude is never free and that desperation often blinds people to what they are truly offering in exchange. Her reputation for cruelty and kindness begins to make sense—not because she enjoys suffering, but because she refuses to lie about consequences.

The plot unfolds around this tension: a dying kingdom, a ruler forced into vulnerability, and a witch who stands outside moral simplicity. The central conflict is established not as a battle between good and evil, but as a negotiation between power and sacrifice. The princess is confronted with the reality that saving her people may require more than gold, titles, or promises. Meanwhile, Kurotsuki’s interest in the princess is hinted at—measured, unreadable, and deliberate—suggesting that the price she intends to ask may be far more personal than expected.