When I ask the patron I run into, he scoops me up effortlessly. I actually prefer walking side by side rather than being held, but right now I’m exhausted. Anyone would be, after playing so enthusiastically with the maids. The patron has an uncanny talent for reading my condition. Feeling like I need a nap, I scratch insistently at his chest.
The patron smells good. It’s hard to put into words exactly what kind of scent it is, but it’s good—definitely good. When I curl up inside his coat and wake from a nap, I often find myself pressing my nose against his chest and sniffing without even realizing it. Sometimes, half-asleep, I even lick his chest softly, and when that happens, the firm muscles of his abdomen twitch.
Even after waking from my nap, I rarely feel like leaving the warmth of his coat.
Instead of going outside, I wriggle around and fool about. Whenever I move, the patron’s stomach shifts and bulges, and each time it does, Simon Licht’s reporting voice starts to falter. Just to get on Simon’s nerves, I press down firmly on the hem of the patron’s clothes with my front paws. I can’t see Simon’s expression, but I know perfectly well that he’s thoroughly irritated—I can hear it in his sharp breathing. No matter how annoyed Simon gets, he doesn’t dare say a word. Of course not. I’m inside my patron’s coat.
The patron rubs my back through his clothes a few times, then returns his focus to work.
The patron’s office, where he works, is quiet as can be, since only a handful of people are there to assist him. The only sounds are voices giving reports, the rustle of turning pages, and the scratch of a pen writing. I only play my “make the stomach bulge” game when Simon’s voice is audible; the rest of the time, I spend sleeping.
Truthfully, there’s a reason I’m spending such a lazy day like this.
I need to find a way to break the curse or return to Korea—but there’s no clear path to either. At first, I thought that if I searched the massive library in the imperial palace, I’d find something. I even dragged my patron along, but once we arrived, I realized the problem.
I can’t read the writing here.
Asking my patron to look for it would be simple in theory, but even though he understands me remarkably well, that’s still impossible. He has an almost supernatural knack for sensing what I want, but he doesn’t actually understand my words in detail. And since I can’t read the script either, it’s not like I can convey a message saying, “Please find a way to break the curse.”
The situation is this hopeless, but I’ve decided to take it easy.
It was the same when I first fell under the witch’s curse and didn’t know what to do—if you just wait quietly, a solution or an opportunity eventually presents itself. Since I’m living comfortably anyway, it’s wiser to let go of impatience. Besides…
I flick my tail against the patron’s side, deliberately tickling him. His chest gives a small tremor. He’s definitely laughing inwardly. It’s a vibration only I can barely feel, clinging tightly to his skin. That makes me oddly content.
I really, really like this patron of mine. If I break the curse and return to where I originally was, this shy, kind guy will end up all alone again. His broad chest-bed, the comfort of curling up inside his coat, and his gentle nature—all of it keeps making me lazier. I think I’d be unbearably disappointed if I woke up in the morning and his big hand didn’t stroke my body. So, for multiple reasons, I plan to stay with him a little longer. If I leave, my patron will definitely be lonely.
Patron. You’re totally grateful for me, right?
When I tap his chest lightly with my front paw, the patron responds by stroking my back, as if answering.
Yeah. Yeah. So you’d better keep treating me well. Or I’ll up and leave for good. And when that happens, no amount of crying or begging will help. Once I’m done, I’m done forever—a cold city man.
***
Thud—
The necklace struck by the cat’s front paw fell to the floor. The attendants sucked in sharp breaths at the sight of the imperial treasure—said to be beyond price—the Goddess’s Heart, rolling across the ground.
But the cat who had caused the incident was merely sitting primly near the head of the bed.
Calyx alternated his gaze between the cat, who had turned its back on him, and the necklace lying beneath the bed.
Up until just earlier, when they had returned from dinner, the creature had seemed to be in quite a good mood. But the moment Calyx removed the necklace—thinking it looked uncomfortable as the cat scratched at its neck—the cat’s attitude changed. After sharply swatting away the necklace placed in front of it, the cat immediately turned its back on Calyx. From the small back sitting stubbornly facing the wall, it was clear that the creature was in a very foul mood. Calyx pondered what, exactly, had upset it this time.
A few days earlier, there had been an incident where the cat, wandering alone and getting lost, had scratched him. When Calyx found it, the cat had looked pleased—but the moment he picked it up, it hissed sharply and bared its claws. For an instant, seeing the animal show its fangs at him, Calyx had almost snapped its neck on instinct. So this is how it ends, he had thought. Yet as if nothing had happened, the cat quickly turned affectionate again. In retrospect, it had probably been angry that Calyx was late.
The small black cat demanded what it wanted without hesitation.
Though they couldn’t communicate with words, it wasn’t difficult to understand what the cat desired. It was simple: listen to what it expressed, and follow what it looked at. But this time, Calyx couldn’t easily guess what the problem was.
When Calyx took the necklace handed to him by a maid and placed it beside the cat, the creature glanced at it—then smacked it away once more. It returned to sitting with its back turned to Calyx. Seeing such a clear display of rejection, Calyx finally formed a rough idea of why the cat was upset.
“Do you dislike that necklace?”
Twitch. Twitch.
Though sitting with its back turned, the cat’s ears moved toward Calyx and twitched. Its body, however, remained stubbornly turned away.
“Shall I bring you a new necklace?”
Twitch. Twitch.
This time, the ears moved even more actively. The tail, too, began to smack rapidly against the floor. Seeing that reaction, Calyx knew he’d hit the mark. When he summoned an attendant and ordered them to call in a merchant residing in the imperial palace, the cat sprang to its feet and approached him, letting out a sweet, drawn-out nyaa.
“How about this one, Your Highness the Crown Prince?”
The merchant held out a necklace meant for women. Even as he addressed Calyx, the sharp-eyed merchant displayed his experience by presenting the item directly in front of the cat.
The bedroom quickly filled with luxurious boxes. The merchant stationed in the palace always kept precious jewelry prepared, which was why it took little time after summoning him to begin browsing. Having been given a sum of money in advance by an attendant and briefed on Calyx’s request, the merchant had rushed over with remarkable efficiency. Most of the items laid out were women’s necklaces well-suited for being refashioned into a cat’s collar.
Once everything was spread out, the cat began strolling gracefully among the items, selecting its necklace. Calyx refrained from interfering at all, simply observing as the cat browsed.
After wandering among the jewels for some time, the cat suddenly stopped. The merchant, who had been trailing behind in a half-crouch, swiftly lifted an item for display—a necklace featuring an impressively large blue sapphire. When the cat’s eyes met Calyx’s, it let out a long nyaang, clearly pleased. Calyx nodded to the merchant.
Even after that, the cat carefully examined the other items, choosing what it wanted. It selected only astonishingly expensive, high-quality pieces with uncanny precision, so it was no wonder the merchant’s face bloomed with delight as he followed behind. After picking out seven outrageously expensive necklaces, the cat finally padded over and sat on Calyx’s lap. A rumbling purr sounded from its throat, betraying its good mood.
Once the merchant withdrew, the cat suddenly placed its tail squarely atop Calyx’s hand. Calyx alternated his gaze between the tail—extended as if inviting touch—and the cat’s face. Normally, the creature never allowed anyone to touch its tail or belly.
When he simply watched, the cat swished its tail back and forth across his palm, urging him to hurry up. The sleek black tail tickled his skin. Calyx curled his fingers and gently grasped it. The tail stiffened for a moment, as if tense, then soon relaxed.
Carefully holding the tail, Calyx stroked it from top to bottom.
True to the creature’s small size, its tail was delicate and slender. He still couldn’t understand why such a small, fragile being refused to leave his side. He had wondered if he had changed—but animals still panicked just from being near him. This little creature was the sole exception.
Calyx recalled the moment, days ago, when the cat had scratched him.
When it raised its claws, looking feral as if everything before had been a lie, the thought that flashed through his mind was a leash—or perhaps a cage. The warm sensation of the creature curled comfortably against his abdomen, the soft fur slipping beneath his hand, and the round eyes gazing up at him without the slightest hint of fear or suspicion—imagining all of that vanishing in an instant made him think not of setting the creature down or letting it go, but of how to keep it safely by his side. Fortunately, the cat soon nestled back into his arms.
The creature was intelligent to a fault. If it ever truly decided to leave, there would be no stopping it—short of binding or confining it. But he knew that doing so would mean it would never return to its affectionate self. Even so, he had no intention of letting it go gently. That left only one option: train it so it would never want to leave his side. That was all.
Calyx released the tail and stroked the small back instead. Perhaps touching its tail had been uncomfortable, because the tension in the creature’s eyes eased noticeably. As he gently ran his hand along its back, the cat met his gaze and let out a soft nyaang. It was nothing more than the cry of an animal—yet that sound sent ripples through a part of his chest.
Just… stay this way. Don’t change.
Calyx softened his gaze and savored the warmth of the small life beneath his hand.
