“I-I’m… I look too ugly. If you see me, it’ll only put you in a bad mood.”
No matter how hard he clung on with both hands and pulled with all his strength, there was no way he could overpower Mihail. Even knowing that, the creature poured so much force into gripping Mihail’s wrist that his hands were visibly trembling.
“…A lot. I’m… really, really ugly. Very, very ugly.”
Repeating the same words over and over, the creature had begun to tremble outright. His breathing, too, was ragged and uneven, as though he were on the verge of choking—he looked utterly terrified.
It would’ve been easy enough to just brush the hair aside and see for himself. Whether the creature was ugly or not was something Mihail could judge with his own eyes, and just how ugly was likewise his call to make.
It was a perfect situation to torment him. The way he gasped for breath in fear, the way he clutched Mihail’s wrist with both hands and pleaded desperately—if Mihail wanted to bully him, simply sweeping aside that hair would’ve been more than effective.
“…Your Grace….”
Still holding Mihail’s wrist, the creature called out in a small voice, almost like a sob. Mihail felt it then—ah. Bang. As though he’d taken another blow straight to the center of his chest. He released the hand gripping the creature’s chin, took a step back, and sat down in his chair again.
“Get dressed.”
Mihail said it calmly. Or perhaps his voice came out slightly choked. The creature picked up the ragged shirt that had fallen to the floor and hurriedly pulled it on. The hideous scars vanished neatly beneath the rags. The flashes of pale skin that showed whenever he moved, which had once been pleasing to the eye, now did nothing but grate on Mihail’s nerves.
After confirming the creature had put his shirt back on, Mihail lifted the bell on the desk and rang it. The butler waiting outside entered the room.
“Bring my fur coat.”
“Yes.”
The butler answered at once and soon returned carrying Mihail’s coat—a piece made from the pelt of a black sable Mihail had hunted himself several years ago.
“Put it on him.”
At the sudden order, the butler alternated his gaze between the large coat in his hands and the small Chaika. Then, for now, he did as told and draped the coat over the creature’s shoulders.
“Ugh!”
The moment the coat settled on him, the creature let out a muffled sound and collapsed to the floor with a thud. The heavy sable fur coat, made for Mihail—whose build far exceeded that of ordinary humans—was simply too much for the creature’s small, emaciated body to bear. And it wasn’t just the weight; the coat had fallen over him almost like a blanket, completely engulfing him as he sat there.
The butler shot Mihail a troubled look. Mihail felt much the same. Even when he felt like giving the creature something nice for once, the scrawny thing couldn’t manage to accept it properly—pathetic beyond measure.
Mihail glared at the creature floundering inside the coat for a moment, then finally reined in his irritation and spoke.
“…Bring something I wore as a child. Something that’ll fit him, roughly.”
“Yes. Understood.”
The butler brightened as if it were an excellent idea, retrieved the sable coat, and quickly disappeared outside. Freed at last from beneath the heavy garment, the creature sucked in a deep breath, panting as though he’d narrowly survived.
“Pathetic.”
When Mihail clicked his tongue and muttered, the creature lowered his head, his expression dark.
The butler’s eye for detail was commendable. He brought one of the winter coats Mihail had worn as a child, and once it was put on the creature, it fit him remarkably well. Draping red fox fur over such a wretched appearance was like hanging pearls around a pig’s neck, but still—it looked warm, at least.
“The coat is fine, but it might be better for him to change what he’s wearing underneath first….”
After straightening the coat and adjusting the fit, the butler remarked lightly to Mihail. Mihail, of course, pretended not to hear.
“Warm?”
When Mihail asked, the creature stopped fussing over and admiring the coat and nodded vigorously.
“It’s warm. It feels like summer.”
At the overly enthusiastic response, Mihail let out a faint snort.
“That’s enough for today. You can go.”
Mihail waved his hand dismissively at the creature, who was still absorbed in marveling at the coat. The creature glanced briefly at the furniture he hadn’t finished cleaning, then bowed deeply and disappeared outside.
Leaning back into his chair once more, Mihail crossed his legs atop the desk and sank into thought.
Nile had been adopted into the House of Marquis Lucius as a child, which meant the creature must have grown up there as well. There was no way they’d treated a mere tagalong beta—one not even a valuable omega to sell off—particularly well. It was a place infamous enough to be called little more than an imperial slave market; whipping someone would’ve been an everyday occurrence. Still… would Nile, who claimed to cherish his younger brother so dearly, have allowed him to be flogged like that?
As the thought reached that point, Mihail let out a cold, derisive laugh.
If he truly cherished his brother, he wouldn’t have let him wander around dressed in rags in the first place. Even if things couldn’t be helped while they were at House Lucius, here—if he’d wanted to—Nile could easily have clothed him properly, given him a good place to sleep, and fed him well. Not doing so meant only one thing: he simply didn’t want to.
Things Mihail would normally never spare a thought for now clawed relentlessly at his nerves.
Ever since first spotting the creature in the library—the pale ankles and calves that constantly caught his eye and pleased it, the shoulders and collarbones glimpsed through drooping clothes, the tattered rags that rode up easily and were just as easily pulled down over a stick-thin body—every single one of those images now felt inverted. Each time he thought of them, irritation surged all the way to the top of his head.
In the end, Mihail shot up from his seat and kicked open the door to his office. He headed straight for Nile’s quarters. Striding forward in long, rapid steps, it took no time at all to reach the residence set some distance away.
“…….”
The sight that greeted him at the door to Nile’s quarters was quite a spectacle. Whether he walked quickly or slowly, unless he deliberately made noise, Mihail always moved without a sound. Years of enjoying the hunt had ingrained the habit into him. The servants, having heard no approaching footsteps, weren’t waiting outside the door—instead, they had their ears pressed tightly against it, wholly absorbed in eavesdropping on the sounds within.
Mihail gestured sharply to the people following him, signaling them to remain silent. Then he slowly approached the door.
Smack.
The sound of flesh being struck rang out.
The door was made of thick, heavy oak and was fairly soundproof, but to Mihail—whose senses far exceeded those of ordinary humans—it came through clearly. Even those with their ears pressed to the door seemed to catch the faint sound; they frowned or clapped hands over their mouths in shock.
“Do you think trash like you has the right to wear something like that? Do you know how Mishar died because of you?! What she went through just because she gave birth to you?! Are you sniffing around because you think you can give the Duke an heir in my place? With that worthless, filthy body of yours?! With a body that can’t even bear children?!”
The voice—kept low out of awareness of those outside, yet viciously pressed forward—belonged to Nile. That was enough. Mihail kicked the door.
Bang!
The heavy door flew open with a thunderous crash. The servants who’d been leaning against it failed to support their own weight and tumbled inside in a heap.
Beyond the wide-open doorway, the scene inside was laid bare.
The creature sat collapsed on the floor, one hand pressed to his cheek. Nile stood nearby, his face twisted, clutching the red fur coat. The image seared itself into Mihail’s vision like a painting.
“…Y-Your Grace?! This is….”
Flustered and at a loss, Nile’s gaze darted between the coat in his hand, the creature sprawled on the floor, and Mihail. The situation was far too obvious to scrape together a proper excuse. Mihail strode forward and snatched the coat from Nile’s grasp.
“This is… Your Grace. My brother suddenly brought back such an expensive item, so I was questioning whether he might have stolen it.”
Nile offered the excuse with a face that hadn’t yet shed its panic. Mihail ignored him completely. Wrapping the red fox fur around the slumped Chaika, he lifted him up effortlessly and turned on his heel, leaving Nile’s quarters behind.
“Y-Your Grace! Your Grace!”
Nile called out from behind, but Mihail’s attention had already fully withdrawn. His strides down the corridor were long and rough. Buried in the thick fur, the creature squirmed. As Mihail headed toward his own bedroom, the creature wriggled about before finally finding a position, poking his head out from the fur and gulping in a deep breath.
The face that popped out was still half-hidden behind rough, unkempt hair, but it was more than enough to reveal one cheek swollen red and the corner of his mouth split, blood seeping through.
“Lord Nile didn’t do anything wrong. He was just trying to protect me. He’s worried about me. Really. Lord Nile isn’t at fault. Please don’t be angry with Lord Nile.”
“Shut up.”
Mihail snapped, his voice thick with irritation. The creature fell silent at once—which was fortunate. One more word, and it felt like his irritation would explode into something far worse.
Upon reaching the bedroom, Mihail tossed the creature onto the bed—a bed far higher and wider than anything an ordinary human would use. The soft mattress accepted the small body without the slightest jolt. The creature wriggled free of the fur, looking exactly like a caterpillar breaking out of its cocoon.
If it were a butterfly caterpillar, it would at least emerge beautiful. But that thing…
Folding his arms, Mihail stared coldly and sharply down at the rag-clad creature, who looked like a stray dog wrapped in tatters.
Even without murderous intent, few humans could withstand the gaze of a Dominant Alpha. The creature, clearly afraid, soon began to tremble all over.
“……. You….”
When Mihail finally opened his mouth, the creature swallowed hard. With a body this frail and terrified, it was remarkable he’d survived this long—enduring Nile’s abuse and the lash alike. Perhaps the wary, cautious movements that had first piqued Mihail’s interest were his own way of navigating the world just to stay alive.
“From today on, you’re my direct servant. You’ll eat, sleep, and work here.”
Perhaps because the words were so unexpected after such a long, icy stare, the creature parted his lips slightly, then nodded slowly.
