Ries didn’t meow anxiously to ask how Justyn was doing. Instead, he trudged across the bed and drew closer to him. Only when he was close enough for his nose to brush against him if he fell forward did he gently rest his head on Justyn’s knee.
He vaguely recalled Hillein’s final words. His mind had been so foggy at the time that he hadn’t caught them properly, but thinking back now, what she’d left behind was clear.
— Please take care of my son.
His lips jutted out in a pout for no reason. That was so like Hillein.
Instead of digging deeper into his memories, Ries tilted his gaze up slightly. The face before him looked lost in thought, eyes tangled with a web of emotions. A far cry from his usual self.
It was only natural. Even if he’d chosen a method that would spare them a bitter farewell, feelings weren’t something that could be neatly tied up and put away.
Rather than exposing the full weight of those feelings, Justyn reached out and gently petted Ries, who was leaning against him. He murmured,
“It’s okay.”
“…Mewng?”
“It’ll only be for a little while.”
It didn’t sound like he was reassuring Ries—it was more of a mantra he whispered to himself. The strength drained noticeably from the hand that brushed over Ries’s fur.
“…Just a little while.”
Seeing his flickering eyes, Ries felt a strange tightness in his chest. He stopped kneading Justyn’s lap with his front paws.
He looked up again. At the same time, his field of vision slowly rose—higher, and higher—until their eye levels matched.
Ries, now with long human hands, reached out and took hold of Justyn. Soon, his pale fingers intertwined with his.
Rather than meeting Justyn’s gaze, Ries leaned his head against him, just like he used to when he was a cat.
His tousled blonde hair brushed against Justyn’s shoulder. Ries whispered,
“Yeah. Let’s wait together.”
What he offered wasn’t comfort. It wasn’t a vague reassurance that everything would be alright.
It was simply a promise. That no matter how long that “little while” lasted, he would stay by his side and wait with him.
“…Okay.”
Justyn gripped his hand tightly in return.
Though it was still painful now, he had a feeling that, someday, everything would be alright.
***
He seems a bit better now, right?
Ries, who had been secretly watching Justyn, sighed in relief inwardly.
It was one morning, when he’d been unable to come up with any words of comfort, that he’d simply said, “I’ll wait with you until you feel better.”
He’d heard that on that day, when the Duke hadn’t shown himself for so long that it raised suspicions, the retainers had tried to come looking for him—only to be stopped by Sefiut. The details were hazy.
In any case, ever since then, Justyn had slowly begun to recover.
He would sometimes stare blankly out the window while working, or go inspect the flowerbeds in the garden for no apparent reason, or get lost in time while gazing at a portrait stored in the annex.
Even just watching him for a little while, one might instinctively ask, “Your Grace, is something the matter?”—but thankfully, these instances had grown less frequent over time.
Ries had stayed by Justyn’s side through every single one of those moments.
Sometimes as a man, sometimes as a cat, following him around without growing tired of it.
Which meant he was naturally the first to notice changes in Justyn.
Like today—when Justyn, who had been lost in thought and silent, suddenly brought up something completely unrelated.
“Come to think of it, I never told you.”
“Hm? Told me what?”
“About that female knight who used to be your guard.”
At first, Ries felt relief. The fact that Justyn could bring up another topic while in the presence of Hillein’s lingering memory meant he was regaining some emotional composure.
But then came confusion.
He knew immediately who Justyn meant—Melissa Yukalt.
The female knight who had become his guard after settling in the Duke’s estate.
One of the few people he’d grown attached to, so it was impossible to forget her name. But he hadn’t expected Justyn to bring her up for any specific reason—until he remembered. Oh.
Ries let out a soft sigh as the memory clicked into place.
They’d had that conversation before.
“I saw her briefly. Melissa didn’t look too good.”
“You mean the female knight who used to be your guard?”
It was the day he had finally been able to walk the estate freely in human form.
To commemorate that, he’d wandered the grounds with Justyn. While passing near the training field, Ries had been distracted by Melissa, whose expression looked particularly troubled.
It was before they’d even met Hillein, so somehow it felt like an eternity ago.
“What about Melissa?”
“Apparently, she’s been having frequent conflicts with her elder brother over the family’s succession.”
“…Huh?”
Ries’s eyes went wide. It felt like someone had smacked him in the head with a hammer.
So…
He looked into it because I was worried…?
Even before fully understanding the content, something fluttered painfully in his chest.
He clenched his eyes shut and took a deep breath before finally managing a calm response.
“F-Family issues, huh.”
He couldn’t help but stutter a little at the beginning.
His mind finally caught up. He didn’t know the details, but he did know how complicated noble succession could be. Not something an outsider could easily interfere with.
So, the best course of action was simply to hope it resolved well.
Maybe, if he happened to pass by Melissa, he could approach her in cat form and nuzzle her a bit to lift her mood… That was the kind of thought he was having when—
“Come to think of it, there was one other thing that stood out.”
“Something that stood out?”
“Yeah.”
Justyn narrowed his eyes—an expression he often wore when something irritated him.
“Malef Yukalt… That eldest son of the Yukalt family, he’s apparently been meeting with Marquess Marilon more frequently lately.”
“Ugh.”
Ries’s face twisted in response, mirroring Justyn’s.
His already low opinion of Malef hit rock bottom the moment those three other names were brought up.
Chesif Marilon.
Another name he hadn’t heard in a while. Since the incident involving the Crown Prince, no one had mentioned him—not even once—so that feeling of unfamiliarity might not be imagined.
If he was associating closely with that man, then Melissa’s brother must be cut from the same cloth.
Suddenly, Ries felt a pang of sympathy for her.
That’s when an unexpected curiosity surfaced.
Chesif Marilon. The man he’d seen when he first opened his eyes in this world.
Ries repeated the name to himself.
Unwanted memories came flooding back, vivid and fresh.
Back then, aside from possessing human-level cognition, he’d been nothing more than a regular cat. But now?
I’ve changed a lot.
He had fully awakened to his identity as a member of the Myo tribe, learned to transform into a human, and—at least when it came to Justyn—he could easily sense those who harbored ill intent. He could even see and communicate with wandering spirits.
Ries rolled his eyes so obviously it was almost audible, then stole a glance at Justyn’s profile. That ever-present black mask still concealed his face.
It’s been a while since I gave him a proper trim…
Marquess Marilon, who never missed an opportunity to insult Justyn, came to mind. And Diana, who had turned out to be surprisingly useful. That man would definitely be worse, not better.
Unconsciously, Ries licked his lips.
***
A few days ago.
“Ha ha ha!”
As soon as Chesif greeted the returning Diana, he burst into laughter. He couldn’t help it.
“Hilarious. Truly hilarious. You couldn’t even manipulate that old man?”
“C-Chesif?”
“No… this won’t do. Diana, you can’t do this to me.”
He muttered incomprehensibly, but then the laughter that had been laced through his voice vanished in an instant.
A chilling aura—one that anyone would instinctively feel—crept down Diana’s spine.
She reflexively took a step back. His gleaming eyes locked onto her. Startled, she stammered,
“I-It was beyond my abilities! The High Priest already knew everything! He kept saying the Duke’s curse couldn’t be cured, that he wasn’t granted permission… He just kept spewing strange things, threatening me with the Saintess position, ignoring me…! I’m the one who got mocked, not him!”
Tears welled in her eyes. She wanted comfort—not interrogation.
But Chesif’s face remained frigid.
Diana’s lips trembled.
“Why… why are you looking at me like that?”
Say you’re sorry. Say you were too harsh. Ask me if I’m okay.
But the hope was shattered.
Chesif sneered.
“Why am I not wiping your tears and coddling you? Hah, still as stupid as ever. Let me explain.”
“Ch-Chesif?”
“You’re no longer worth it.”
So you didn’t get what you wanted—fine. But at least don’t make yourself a nuisance. Don’t draw unwanted attention.
And yet this stupid woman had done all the wrong things, and now she was clinging to him, begging to be consoled.
What she brought back made it worse.
“The Crown Prince visited,” she’d said.
His patience, already worn thin by the Beastkin incident, finally snapped.
Diana looked like she was processing his words. Her face turned deathly pale. She staggered.
“W-We’re… we’re lovers. You said you loved me, that you’d make me happy, that you wouldn’t let anything hurt me… Why are you saying things like this? Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Lovers? Hah, maybe—if you’d continued being a useful pawn.”
Her body froze, her breath caught. She looked pitiful. But Chesif didn’t care. He closed the distance.
“The darling of a high-ranking noble. Fiancée of the Imperial Knights’ Commander. A rags-to-riches fairy tale heroine straight out of a children’s book… You seemed to be enjoying it.”
“Ah…”
“But you shouldn’t forget your place. Did you really think you could wear that crown without paying the price?”
But—just once—he was willing to give her another chance.
Bloodshot eyes narrowed.
“If you still want to be my lover, I know just the thing.”
He lifted her chin with a fingertip. Watching her confused, quivering eyes, he whispered with a mocking smile,
“Report everything the High Priest does. I don’t care what it is. If you find a weakness, even better.”
