At Calyx’s words, the boy pulls a sulky face. His small mouth moves, chewing silently as if muttering complaints under his breath. Watching those soft little lips squirm, Calyx suddenly feels an urge to slip a finger between them. They would surely be tender and moist. And then, without fail, the boy would blow up in outrage.
“Oh, right. Lyx.”
The boy quickly wipes the sulky expression from his face and speaks. His black eyes roll busily, darting back and forth. After circling his gaze for a moment as if choosing his words, he opens his mouth with a surprisingly thoughtful expression.
“Is the Emperor here very sick?”
It’s an unexpected question. The boy has never shown any interest in the Emperor before, so why ask something like this all of a sudden? Calyx had heard a report that the boy had followed a spy all the way to the palace where the Emperor resides, but it didn’t seem like he would have seen or heard anything particularly noteworthy.
Then again, while the boy can be dull and slow in the strangest ways, in other matters he’s sharp beyond measure. Perhaps something had caught his attention.
Letting him wander around as he pleased to stave off boredom wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, but if he got hurt by taking interest in something unnecessary, that would be truly troublesome. Still, this was a boy who couldn’t rest easy unless he did exactly what he wanted. Forcibly keeping him away wouldn’t be a good solution either.
What to do?
Calyx studied the boy in silence, then soon broke into a smile.
Letting him play around until his curiosity settled a bit wouldn’t be so bad. Coincidentally, Calyx himself had been in need of something to distract his mind from his books.
“He hasn’t been able to get out of bed for quite some time.”
At the answer, the boy’s eyes flash with light.
Swallowing a laugh, Calyx begins to dangle just enough bait to draw the boy’s attention.
“It’s strange, really. There doesn’t seem to be any particular illness.”
The boy scoots his bottom closer until he’s pressed right up against Calyx’s side, then lowers his voice to ask,
“What kind of symptoms?”
After asking, he sweeps his gaze around the empty space and swallows hard.
Calyx pretends to think for a moment, deliberately making the boy squirm.
“Well…”
The increasingly impatient boy finally clings onto Calyx’s arm and starts pestering him.
“Ah, hurry up and think. Hurry.”
The boy’s breath, bouncing as he wiggles his hips, reaches all the way to Calyx’s ear. Calyx looks down leisurely at the clinging boy. He seems so restless he might climb all the way up onto his shoulder. The slender body clinging to his arm—every small movement—comes through vividly.
Just as it seems the boy might snap and turn his head away in a huff, Calyx finally opens his mouth.
“He simply… can’t wake up.”
The boy’s eyes go wide. As the boy stares in shock, Calyx casually slips an arm around his waist and lifts him onto his lap. Even when he’s plopped down squarely onto Calyx’s knees, the boy doesn’t seem particularly bothered. He’s completely absorbed in his own thoughts. As expected—he must be so used to resting on Calyx’s chest, knees, and in his arms that he doesn’t feel any resistance at all. Smiling in satisfaction, Calyx presses his lips to the boy’s black hair.
“Calyx.”
After being lost in thought for a long while, the boy calls out with a resolute look in his eyes. When Calyx looks at him, the boy tightly grips his hand.
“I’ll take care of everything, so don’t worry about anything.”
He looks ready to dash out at any moment and defeat an enemy force on his own.
How can such a small boy be this lovable?
Calyx smiles quietly at him.
***
My code name is 00K.
I’m an unaffiliated freelance intelligence agent.
An agent always hides his identity. Only then can he approach his target and extract information with ease. To conceal one’s true self, a high level of acting skill is essential. Just like right now.
“Haha. It suits you perfectly, Your Highness.”
The suspicious man, Bondre, laughs.
As he praises the clothes he’s just put on my patron, there isn’t a shred of suspicion in his demeanor. But I’ve already seen through his true nature. This guy is definitely a spy.
“Having them made from the exact same fabric really makes them look wonderful. Hahaha.”
Bondre alternates his gaze between me and my patron and even claps his hands. I hide my suspicious glare and let out a satisfied nyaang. The outfit really is pleasing, but more importantly, it’s to conceal my identity. To him, I must be nothing more than an ordinary cat.
“Oh my, how adorable.”
Julia speaks excitedly to my patron. I stand neatly beside him and look into the mirror.
The vest and mantle made from the same fabric as my patron’s outfit fit my body perfectly. The deep green, luxurious cloth is embroidered with gold thread, and even the buttons are gold. I’d been worried he might thoughtlessly make pants with a tail hole, but thankfully no such disaster occurred.
I turn my body, inspecting myself carefully from the right, the left, and the front. Mm, yes—quite handsome. No, very handsome. When I turn my gaze to my patron, he’s looking back at me, dressed in an outfit of the exact same design. Meeting those golden eyes, I let out a satisfied nyaang—.
So it seems we’ll be attending the party dressed in matching outfits. Even if I’m just a cat, after going to the trouble of making clothes for me, surely he wouldn’t exclude me from the guest list, right?
If he does, I’m fully prepared to shred my patron’s party attire to pieces.
Nyaaaang—?
Lyx, am I going to the party too?
I tilt my head and ask, but he simply smiles without a word. He probably doesn’t understand and is just laughing it off. But whatever. If I trail along to the party venue, what can he do about it? He’ll have no choice but to take me along.
As if I’d just sit back and watch that damn little brat cling shamelessly to my patron. This is undeniably my patron. I absolutely will not forgive anyone who approaches the patron I’ve claimed. Absolutely not.
Bondre gathers his things, saying he’ll make a few final adjustments to the clothes. I watch the party outfit he’s taking with him with a hint of regret. I want to wear that today, but I guess I’ll have to endure it. It was made for the party, after all—wearing it now wouldn’t be right. I’ll endure it.
“Then I’ll be taking my leave.”
Bondre bows deeply and exits with his luggage. I stick close to my patron’s side and see him off.
Once Bondre is gone, my patron scoops me up and holds me tightly.
Lately, my patron hardly ever wants to let me go. Even in everyday moments, he picks me up whenever he gets the chance. Whether I’m held in his arms, curled up against his stomach, or watching him work at his desk, one of his hands is almost always stroking or fiddling with my body. The problem is, it’s not just simple petting or holding anymore.
It seems this guy’s serious affection deprivation has flared up. Whenever he’s bored, he picks me up and presses his lips softly against my head and cheeks. I let it slide, and little by little his territory expanded—now he’s started planting his lips all over my body.
Head, cheeks, the back of my neck, even my back—I could tolerate that. He wasn’t exactly slobbering, and part of me thought, How starved for affection must this loner be to act like this? But then, one day, he shoved his face toward my butt. I immediately growled and warned him to get that damn mouth away, and he quietly retreated. But this time, he brought his mouth right up to the bridge of my nose.
I did try to correct his behavior.
Since he seemed to enjoy pressing his lips into my soft fur so much, I figured I’d let him get a proper taste of it. With that in mind, I shoved my front paw straight into my patron’s mouth. He looked startled for a moment, then broke into a gentle, smiling squint and began chewing on my paw, nom nom. Damn it.
To his credit, he had enough conscience to hide his teeth behind his lips as he chewed, but the way he looked so blissfully happy—honestly. In the end, I just resigned myself to it and let him chew on my paw. Ever since then, he’s been rubbing his lips all over my fur like he earned some kind of license to use his mouth.
To be honest, it’s not particularly uncomfortable.
His lips feel strangely good in a way that’s different from petting. When he buries his face deep into my fur, I can feel his breath clearly. Just like when he used to press his lips to my head, my whole body gets ticklish, and the tip of my tail tingles. To put it bluntly, it feels extremely good.
On top of that, my patron’s petting skills have improved by leaps and bounds. Now, the moment his hand touches me, my throat starts purring automatically. His arms are warm and impossibly comfortable. He also has the good sense to stop immediately if I show irritation or say no. Because of that, I absolutely don’t hate this change in him.
Still, I can’t help but worry.
