Before long, the outcome of the sparring match became clear.
The first to drop his sword was the Crown Prince. From afar, they could faintly make out his raised hands in a gesture of surrender.
“As expected of the Duke.”
“There’s no one who can beat him in swordsmanship.”
Admiring voices murmured from all around. Ries twitched his nose with pride.
He could still vividly recall the early days of settling down beside Justyn.
One time, a servant had dropped to their knees in apology after just one glance at him. But now, people didn’t avoid sharing space with Justyn—in fact, they even looked up to him without hesitation, though they still kept a respectful distance.
Well, sure… they’d still be scared if they came face-to-face with him.
Still, this was a huge step forward.
As he watched the slow but steady change unfold, the sharp clash of steel rang out once more.
The second match had begun.
Faster than before.
Now, even with his heightened reflexes, Ries struggled to keep up with the sheer speed of their blows.
Once the two got going, they usually sparred around five times in a row. So there was still time before he’d need to go greet Justyn.
Deciding to enjoy the show at his leisure, Ries sprawled out on the grass. It was then that he heard soft footsteps approaching—someone tiptoeing closer.
Before he could fully register it, a dish was set in front of him. On it lay three perfectly grilled shishamo, neatly arranged, their golden skin practically glistening.
“Waaah? Meow!”
It was the servant who’d left mid-conversation earlier.
Overwhelmed by the rich, savory aroma, Ries bonked his head into the man’s hand in delight.
The surrounding humans turned their gazes toward him, as if enchanted.
“You dirty bastard… using food to bribe him?”
“Ugh… I should’ve done that.”
“Damn it, I’m jealous…”
A wave of envy and jealousy swept through the crowd.
But soon, everyone found themselves watching a single cat completely absorbed in his world, chewing and tearing into the shishamo with gusto.
“Om nom nom…”
Snack-time was clearly essential for enjoying a good duel.
Even though he’d shoved his whole face into the dish and had practically forgotten to watch the fight, Ries shamelessly considered this a winning strategy.
Someone gently scratched between his ears. He didn’t really mind, but the words that followed did catch his attention.
“Now that you mention it, the little fairy hasn’t shown up today either.”
“You mean the talking doll? Haven’t seen him around much lately.”
“It was so cute seeing the two of them together… shame.”
They were talking about Sefiut.
As Ries munched on the delightfully flaky meat, he remembered something Sefi had said a few days ago:
—I’m not going outside for a while. Dealing with Imperial types never ends well.
His tone had stuck with Ries. It wasn’t so much hostility as it was wanting to avoid trouble altogether.
“……”
Gulp. He swallowed and turned to look ahead.
Justyn was still locked in sparring, held captive under the pretense of “training.”
I can kinda see why he doesn’t wanna get involved.
By the time Ries had licked the plate clean of every last shishamo flake, another 30 minutes had passed before the duel finally ended.
The onlookers scattered in all directions, each heading off in a rush, and Ries sprinted toward the training ground.
Justyn knelt down to meet him as he approached.
“…Looks like you had a snack.”
“Meow. Mrowrrr. Mmng.”
A gloved hand gently brushed the corner of his mouth. Shishamo crumbs rained down.
He’d just publicly broadcasted that he’d come from a snack session.
“Well, well. Looks like he had fish. Unlike you, it seems your companion gets along quite well with the staff!”
Ries rubbed his face furiously with a paw. Great. One more annoying spectator.
And why did the Crown Prince have to be so snide about it? Clearly just sulking because he lost.
“Yes. I’m grateful.”
And yet, his kind-hearted master simply nodded in agreement.
If only the world could see this side of him. As Ries brushed his head against Justyn’s boot with affection, his gaze suddenly drifted far off into the distance.
Beyond the trees, past the shrubbery—back to where the crowd had been not long ago.
There, at the very edge, a faint flicker of a dress hem swayed in the breeze.
“Ries?”
Just then, the sun peeked back out from behind the clouds, and the world flashed white.
When his vision cleared again, the figure had vanished—gone as if it had never been there. Ries blinked blankly until Justyn’s hand brought him back.
“Ries. If you’re not feeling well…”
“Meow? Mrrng? Meow!”
In that short moment, Justyn’s eyes had already filled with concern.
Ries quickly shook his head to emphasize just how healthy he was.
The brief seed of doubt that had begun to grow… slowly shrank again.
“Hahaha! It never gets old, seeing this side of the Duke!”
With the Crown Prince’s booming laughter echoing behind them, the moment passed completely.
***
The next day.
Ries swallowed dryly as he looked up at Justyn, who stood before him with a strangely serious expression.
In his hand was a soft, silky measuring cord that somehow felt way too ominous.
“…Pardon me a moment.”
Justyn stepped forward slowly, reaching out.
His arms curled gently around Ries’s waist, as though to embrace him. He felt the cord wrap around the fabric of his thin clothes.
The problem was… it was way too loose.
Ries tilted his head up.
“Justyn, this is… kinda loose, isn’t it?”
“…Ah.”
Justyn’s body flinched.
A stiff sigh escaped him, and Ries was pretty sure he heard a gulp, too.
The loose cord tightened slightly around his waist. It wasn’t even that tight, but it still made it weirdly hard to breathe.
“…How about now?”
“Huh? Oh, uh… yeah. It’s fine.”
Ries fidgeted with his fingers, his skin tingling like it had been zapped.
His head, meanwhile, was spinning wildly.
How did it come to this again?
A recent memory unfolded vividly.
To trace this back to the beginning, it all started with one request from Justyn.
“Then, Ries. I know it’s shameless, but I have one request.”
Back then, Ries had still been mentally flailing, trying to act distant after realizing that his identity as a human had already been exposed.
Seeing how disappointed Justyn looked, he’d promised to grant him one wish.
That wish had been…
“I plan to contact a mage soon to commission a custom outfit for you. If you’re willing… may I take your measurements myself?”
That was it.
At the time, Ries had blinked in confusion.
Justyn had taken so long to bring it up that he’d expected something way more outrageous—but that?
He’d given Justyn a puzzled look, but got no answer. The man’s face had remained stubbornly embarrassed the whole time—it was a vivid memory.
So Ries had casually agreed.
Then, the day before—right after Justyn returned from sparring—Ketir had come to see him.
“We’ve finalized the schedule with the mage.”
Faster than expected. Apparently, Baron Embio had helped move things along quite a bit.
The contract was complete. All that remained was preparing the garment to be enchanted.
It was time to grant Justyn’s wish.
And so, here they were now.
Ries, having transformed back into his human form for the first time in a while, stood in light clothes before Justyn.
But the “measuring session” had gone in a very different direction than he’d expected.
He squeezed his eyes shut and reopened them.
“……”
“……”
Tension buzzed thick in the air.
The only sounds were Justyn’s hands brushing against fabric, the soft rustle of the cord, and the breathing of two people far too close together.
Justyn, having recorded his waist, moved on.
Shoulders, arms, neck… and then he hesitated in front of Ries’s chest.
Like with the waist, he wrapped the cord carefully around him—this time, a bit tighter.
“Ugh… it’s kinda tight.”
“…S-Sorry.”
Justyn’s hands sprang back in alarm. The cord, now slack again, dangled uselessly.
Ries stared, wide-eyed.
Justyn’s hands were visibly trembling… and the moment he spotted the faint blush coloring his master’s eyes—
“……”
His own voice dried up in his throat. The flood of thoughts that had just barely been kept at bay surged forward again.
No, no, no.
This wasn’t supposed to get weird…!
Like a cat, Ries clenched his fists.
Now that he thought about it, ‘Ugh’?! What was that sound? If Justyn hadn’t been standing so close, he’d have ripped out his own hair in frustration.
Nope. Not doing this.
Desperate to anchor himself, Ries looked for anything to divert his attention—
And that ended up being Justyn’s still-shaky hands.
He glanced at his master with a sidelong look. A thin sheen of sweat glistened around his neck.
Is he hot?
He looked hot. And nervous. And like he was struggling with this whole measurement thing. Eventually, Ries gently spoke up.
“If this is too hard, why not ask someone else to do it? I can grant you another wish instead.”
“No.”
The answer came back sharper than expected. Justyn, who’d been gazing downward, suddenly looked him straight in the eye.
“I don’t want anyone else putting their hands on your body.”
“……”
Ries’s throat closed up again. His mouth opened and closed repeatedly like a goldfish gasping for air.
