Ketir’s face twisted into stunned disbelief. The unexpected reply left his mind a chaotic mess of racing thoughts and worst-case scenarios.
But Ries had no time to consider Ketir’s mental state. He lifted a paw and started prodding Sefiut, who was floating low to the floor nearby.
“Mrowr. Sowwy! Meoww!”
—Alright, alright, you little menace! I get it, so quit poking me!
Anxious mewling paired with relentless tapping. With no chance to resist, Sefiut let out a long sigh and relayed Ries’s question.
—Hey… does the heir know about that rumor, too?
It just took him a little while to figure out how to word it.
Even for Sefiut, this was a significant matter. Whether the heir knew or not would determine how much damage control they’d need to do.
And at that crucial crossroads, Ketir, his expression grim, chose the former.
“…I believe so.”
“……”
“……”
Silence followed.
We’re fucked.
That exact phrase echoed in all three of their heads—near identical in form and despair.
***
Leaving Ketir behind, Ries hurried to the office. The door opened silently, and he cautiously poked his head in. Justyn was seated properly at his desk.
At a glance, he looked no different from usual—but Ries, who had watched him closely for so long, could tell.
That unmoving posture. The stiff documents that looked like they’d remained untouched for quite some time. He clearly couldn’t focus.
Their eyes met belatedly through the mask.
“…Ries.”
“Mrow, meooww.”
Ries pushed his way inside, meowing softly at the strained voice that called his name.
No “Welcome back,” no “How was your walk today?”, not even “Are you feeling okay?”—the usual barrage of questions Justyn would never forget to ask when he returned… today, there wasn’t a single one.
He knows… he really knows…!
The faint hope Ries had been clinging to crumbled like ash in the back of his mind. His tail, usually so calm, started swishing back and forth restlessly.
He didn’t realize it himself, but the anxiety had taken over his entire body long ago. And no wonder.
It had only been five days—at most—since he became aware of his own feelings.
And even that wasn’t a result of any self-realization, but rather the relentless prodding of those around him… no, of the ghost specifically. And since then, he hadn’t once managed to even mention the topic to Justyn, let alone confess anything.
And now, out of nowhere, rumors of a secret affair?
I have to explain.
He had to. He knew that to explain everything, he’d inevitably have to talk about Hillein—something he’d gone out of his way to avoid until now. But despite that, something in him had already made up its mind, as if under a spell.
His eyes had long since glazed over. He was just about to shift back into human form so he could communicate properly when—
Grab.
Suddenly, one of his front paws was gently caught.
When he snapped back to his senses, Justyn was already right in front of him. Even with his feline reflexes, Ries hadn’t noticed him move. That’s how fast he’d approached.
“Ries.”
“…Mew?”
And yet, the hand that held his paw was incredibly gentle—so light it was as if he were holding a feather. The voice calling his name was just as soft.
The moment Ries’s darting gaze finally focused on his master—
“…!”
He tensed up instinctively.
As the confusion faded and his emotions began to settle, his attention zeroed in on Justyn—and just like always, that was when he began to see what he hadn’t seen before.
The black mist surrounding Justyn.
He remembered the last time he saw it. Back then, it had clung to his master’s body with disgusting tenacity—but compared to that time, it had diminished quite a bit.
That was thanks to all the trouble he’d gone through, knocking around every bastard who dared harbor malice toward Justyn.
But now?
Ries’s silver-gray eyes peered past the mask, locking onto the dark mass that had silently coiled itself around Justyn’s body once again.
That ominous swirling shape. It mimicked the breath of a living creature, tangled and writhing like black threads, swelling and contracting repeatedly.
It hadn’t grown bigger, but… yes. It had become lively again. Something that had once cowered, unsure when it would be cleansed, had now stretched out and grown bold.
…Why?
He didn’t understand.
There hadn’t been any major progress lately. But that wasn’t too surprising. A curse didn’t attach itself to just anyone. It needed potent emotions—strong enough to feed on.
But Justyn had been in the Duke’s estate for a while now.
With Count Averitt’s loyalists thoroughly purged, there was no one left here who could stir up the curse. The situation had hit a frustrating deadlock.
Still, Ries had never felt any real urgency about it. Deep down, he believed all he needed was a little patience.
But now…
Was I… wrong?
For the first time, Ries questioned that belief.
Maybe if it wasn’t managed for a while, the curse could regain its strength on its own. If that was true, then it was a grave mistake on his part. He should’ve at least consulted Sefiut.
That one negative theory, once planted, ballooned out of control—growing bigger with every blink.
“…Ries. I, I…”
Justyn’s voice reached him again—broken whispers that hadn’t even formed into proper sentences. But to Ries, they sounded like desperate pleas.
Only then did he start noticing more details.
The unsteady gaze. The ragged breathing. The trembling fingertips. Pale skin glistening with cold sweat beneath the collar of his shirt…
It was just like the early days after they’d first met—when Justyn trembled in pain each night, suffering under the curse’s torment. Thud. His tiny heart sank like a stone.
No.
A wave of fear, anxiety, and aimless dread flooded his mind. His thoughts staggered forward.
He needed medicine—something to reduce the pain. Where did Justyn keep it? Hadn’t seen him take any recently. Then what? What should he do? He couldn’t just stand by and watch.
One person came to mind. The last person he saw before coming to the office. The one who used to take care of Justyn’s medicine back at the townhouse in the capital—
Ketir.
He needed to find Ketir and tell him what was happening. And the medicine—
—Tsk tsk. Honestly, you’ve got no control over your emotions. Get a grip, would you?
His spiraling thoughts were cut off. The voice carried a faint reprimand, and Ries instinctively turned toward Sefiut—no, tried to.
Sefiut wasn’t there anymore.
By the time Ries turned his head, Sefiut had already shot forward like a cannonball, leaving only the afterimage of a flicking tail behind.
WHACK! A savage thud echoed through the office.
And the destination?
Apparently… Justyn’s face.
When Ries looked back, Justyn was staggering while gripping his mask. His eyes were tightly shut—and this time, they looked like they were filled with pain of a very different kind.
Sefiut’s scathing voice followed.
—You do realize that every negative emotion you hold feeds that curse, right? Are you seriously planning to nurture the very thing we’re trying to purge?
“…I…”
—Oh, really? Still not pulling yourself together? Fine. Let’s leave you to it. I’ve always wondered what’d happen if that leash snapped. Bet you anything this brat and I are going down with you if it does.
“…!”
And then—something changed.
The squirming mist began to shrink. It flared up in resistance at first, but even that didn’t last long.
Within just a few minutes, the curse simmered down—returning to its usual dormant state.
Ries stared blankly at the scene, only to be met with a pair of crimson eyes etched with guilt.
Soon after, Justyn muttered an apology in a troubled voice.
“…I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“…Mrr? Mew?”
Still held in Justyn’s hand, Ries couldn’t even think to pull his paw back. His mouth opened and closed, but no words came out. His mind was a storm of confusion.
What… what just happened…?
Everything had happened so fast. His master’s condition had suddenly worsened, he and Sefiut had shared some cryptic conversation only they understood, and then, somehow, everything was fine again.
Thankfully, a bit of explanation followed.
—You know what the most nourishing food is for a curse? The host’s emotions. Hate, greed, jealousy, inferiority—any strong emotion is a feast. And thanks to you, kid, that thing was starved. So now it’s gobbling up anything it can get.
Which meant—
Ries’s gaze turned sharply back to Justyn. His pupils shrank as he scanned his master’s condition closely.
—Sheesh. You two really are the same. As long as you’re around, there’s no need to worry. Do you seriously think this scaredy-cat of an heir could ever hurt you?
“Mrow…”
But still…
The words kept repeating—half-formed, muttered, turning into more of a grumble by the end. Until finally—
—You STILL don’t get it? It’s jealousy, JEALOUSY! All of this could’ve been solved if he just spoke up, but no—he’s dancing around the damn truth like he’s planning to tour the entire Empire at this rate, good grief!
Thunk. Ries froze at last.
The little spirit waved his stubby fins and smacked his chest in frustration, but Ries was already too far gone to notice. One bitter word echoed through his head like a gong.
Jealousy…?
His tail, stiff and bristling with emotion, twitched and trembled as a wave of heat surged through him.
Then Justyn, who had been holding Ries’s paw this entire time, finally took a deep breath—and spoke.
“You’re the only one.”
His voice still carried the lingering traces of the curse that had almost consumed him.
