Feeling stifled, I scratched at the ground with my front paw, when suddenly the back of my head started to itch. I slowly turned around.
Huh? Simon. What are you doing?
When I looked back, Simon was standing a short distance away with both arms raised high over his head. I watched quietly, wondering what the hell he was up to, when the bushes behind him rustled and several people stepped out. My gaze moved in order—from the men in shabby clothes, to the long swords in their hands, and finally to Simon, with a sword tip pressed right up against his neck.
When our eyes met, Simon sent me a desperate look. Then I noticed the horse another man was leading—my luggage was piled neatly on its back.
…Oh hell. Did we just run into bandits?
“……”
“……”
I shot a sharp glare at Simon, who was sitting there in silence.
He was tightly bound, crouched off to the side, desperately avoiding my gaze. I smacked my tail against the floor thump thump.
Hey. Aren’t you a knight? That sword at your waist—was it just for decoration? And that huge body of yours, were you saving it to steam and eat later or what?
When our eyes met again, Simon gave an awkward smile and quickly looked away. I scratched at the ground with my claws, feeling like I was about to burst a blood vessel.
Right now, I’m in a bandits’ cabin.
To be precise, I’m locked inside a storage room attached to a bandits’ cabin.
Simon—who said he was just stepping away to take care of something—ended up dragging bandits back with him, and that’s how we got captured. Bandits. Bandits.
No matter how stupid bandits are, this is still too much. I’m the Crown Prince’s cat, for crying out loud!
How dare they lock me up in a dingy storage shed like this?!
Anyway… the horse carrying my belongings, Simon, and I were all dragged here together and locked up. To the bandits, I’m just a cat. Because of that, I did briefly consider escaping on my own. But what could I really do in a cat’s body? So I followed along quietly. And besides—there’s such a thing as manly loyalty.
I sat on the cushion inside the basket the bandits had yanked off the saddle and tossed into the storage room, and let out a sigh. Something feels off. No—things are already plenty off—but still… something feels very wrong.
How did it suddenly come to this?
Just yesterday morning, I woke up refreshed on my patron’s warm chest-bed. Eating carefully prepared meals, lazing around with my patron, or wandering the Imperial Palace—that was my daily routine. The biggest problems I had were that the newly hired maid’s chest was tragically lacking, and that my lips kept swelling every night. That was it. A perfectly peaceful life. And now I’m locked up in a bandits’ storage room with Simon.
When I let out a long sigh, Simon copied me and sighed just as deeply.
I spat out a sharp “Kyaaak—!” at him and shot him a murderous glare.
He’s big, and supposedly a knight, so I brought him along—yet instead of dealing with the witch, he gets captured by bandits? I should’ve known from the moment he couldn’t even confess to a woman. Why on earth did my patron stick me with a guy like this? Good grief.
I looked around the storage room again, but there wasn’t even a window—no cracks, no gaps. The only way in or out was the firmly locked door. Bandits were probably swarming outside, so escaping would be difficult. The only saving grace was that they didn’t seem intent on harming Simon or me right away. And it didn’t look like they enjoyed cat stew, either.
For now, I decided to calm down and think things through rationally.
First: we were robbed of everything we had and then kidnapped on top of that. That included the jewel necklace I’d secretly set aside for Grandpa and Grandma—it all went straight into their hands.
Second: no one would know we’d been kidnapped, so expecting a rescue is unrealistic. As far as anyone knows, we’re supposed to be visiting the witch and then stopping by the forest. It’ll be days before anyone notices something’s wrong.
Third: Simon—the bodyguard I brought along—has been tied up tight. Completely useless.
In short, the situation is hopeless.
……
……
HEY. YOU USELESS BASTARD—!!!!
My irritation exploded. I charged straight at Simon and leapt up. The moment my body lifted into the air, I alternated my front paws and smack-smack-smack-smack!—a four-hit combo of ultimate cat slaps straight to his cheeks—then landed cleanly. I finished by hurling a sharp “Kyak—!” of abuse at him.
Simon, having just been slapped senseless, stared blankly, blinking in shock. I snorted and returned to my basket. Beating him up any more would just hurt my paws.
Inside the basket, there was a soft cushion. Curling up on it was at least somewhat comfortable. For a storage shed attached to a small cabin, it was surprisingly clean and almost dust-free—but a storage shed is still a storage shed. Those bandit bastards. Locking me up in a place like this—there’s no justice in the world. I’ll tattle to my patron later and make sure every last one of them meets an early grave. Hmph.
As I stayed curled up in the basket, regret washed over me.
If I’d just stayed quietly by my patron’s side, none of this ridiculous nonsense would’ve happened. If I were still at the Imperial Palace, I’d probably be playing with feathers with my patron right now…
This is all that old man Licht’s fault. If not for that old geezer, thoughts of Grandpa wouldn’t have surged up like that, and I wouldn’t have rushed to leave right away. Then I wouldn’t have had to part with my patron either.
Well… I do have to go back eventually. That much is true. But still!
I miss our Lyx.
When I’m feeling this gloomy, the best thing is curling up inside Lyx’s stomach and sleeping. Lightly scratching those firm abs with the tips of my claws, teasing his side with my tail—before I know it, little giggles start spilling out of me. When I press my nose to his skin and sniff, there’s always this incredibly good scent.
If I kept fooling around inside his stomach, sometimes a faint vibration would come from his chest—Lyx laughing. Laughing like that, he’d stroke my back and my butt through his clothes, slow and gentle.
This is really bad. It hasn’t even been a full day since we parted, and I already miss him so much it hurts. If I’m like this after just one day, I don’t know what’ll happen once I go home. I might never see him again…
With a heavy heart, I closed my eyes.
I wish I’d just fall asleep like this and wake up to my patron appearing with a ta-da. Or at least dream about him.
My small, curled body rose and fell rhythmically. Simon watched the cat closely, all his senses sharpened. The slow, steady breathing and faint presence made it clear—the cat was deeply asleep. Still, just in case, he waited a little longer, holding his breath, confirming once more that the cat was truly asleep.
Tap tap—
After he was certain the cat was out cold, Simon knocked on the wall with his bound hands. The sound was extremely faint, but those lying in wait just beyond the wall would catch it easily.
A few seconds after the knock, the lone door opened without a sound. A man in shabby clothes slipped quietly inside, first checking the cat curled up in the basket. Only after confirming the cat was asleep did he approach Simon.
“Are you all right, Captain?”
The man—no, the knight—asked as he knelt before Simon.
Seeing the knight disguised as a poor farmer, his face and hair smeared with soot, Simon let out a heavy sigh. Even if he looked like this now, the man was a promising member of the Imperial Knights. Using such a knight disguised as a bandit—Simon, as captain, couldn’t hold his head high.
“I’ll keep watch. Please step out and rest for now.”
The knight said as he untied Simon’s hands. But instead of standing up, Simon leaned his back against the wooden wall. It wasn’t an urgent matter, but orders were orders. Reducing the risk of exposure, even slightly, was the right call.
Compromise might sometimes be necessary—but knights were not included in that category, at least in Simon’s view. The Emperor could compromise. Nobles could. Farmers could. But knights must never. The moment a knight begins to compromise, their honor and dignity as a knight are effectively over. That’s how Simon believed.
Knowing Simon’s temperament well, the knight bowed deeply and exited the storage room. The windowless space was dim. A single candle had been lit in one corner, but it didn’t offer much light. Still, for Simon’s knight-trained eyes, even that single flame was more than enough.
Though it was a small, dark storage room with no fire lit inside, it wasn’t cold. Naturally—on the other side of one wall, someone was sweating buckets to keep a fire going so it wouldn’t get chilly. The floor, too, was thickly layered with clean straw.
Leaning against the wall, Simon fixed his gaze on the cat sleeping curled up inside the basket.
