The raindrops grew thicker and heavier until they became a torrential downpour. Ries knew it wasn’t just his fur that would be soaked—it would seep into his body and heart alike.
He twitched his nose several times, then shook his head vigorously up and down. Beyond the mask, the only visible part—his eyes—gleamed with brilliant joy.
Suddenly, he remembered the first time he saw his master’s face.
Back then, Justyn had been numb to pain, unable to move forward, shackled by a past full of malice and loathing.
“……”
But look at him now.
Wounds once buried deep were slowly healing despite their severity, and he now spoke of the future and offered love. Though he was still cloaked head to toe in black and wore a mask, he shone brightly.
And Ries knew—being able to witness that change up close was one of the most precious experiences he’d ever had.
“Muwung.”
I’m glad it was me, he whispered softly.
Letting out a quiet purr, Ries curled up into a tight ball on Justyn’s lap. Since he was already up there, he figured he might as well stay a bit longer.
He closed his eyes. The soft sound of laughter above him, the rustling of turning pages, the scratch of a pen moving across paper—all of it gradually faded.
A cat peacefully napping on a lap. A man quietly working, a gentle smile on his lips. The tranquil, warm air surrounding the two made even the onlooker feel drowsy.
That onlooker was Sefiut.
He had pieced everything together, only for the two idiots to completely sink into their own little world. Normally, he would’ve grumbled and complained endlessly…
―Hmph.
Not this time.
Blinking slowly, he returned to his own cozy spot. The sound of him crunching fruit layered softly over the ambient white noise.
Why didn’t he find them annoying?
The truth was—Sefiut had known the reason for a long time.
The curse born from him didn’t just affect the body. The discrimination, hatred, and pain suffered over countless years placed invisible shackles on the limbs of the cursed.
But right there before him stood a descendant who was undoing those shackles, one by one.
Clink.
One of those old, rusted cuffs shattered and fell loudly to the floor.
Sefiut silently took in the sight of the two—the warmth between them, and the scene only he could see.
It was the future he had long wished for.
A sign that a wish buried deep within his heart, from long ago, was finally coming true.
***
A few days after the Crown Prince’s entourage departed—
The deputy head’s embezzlement, the unilateral raid he’d orchestrated, the sudden manpower vacuum—before any of it could be properly dealt with, unexpected visitors had arrived.
Thanks to all that, the ducal estate had been wrestling with chaos for days, but at last, peace was restored.
“Duke. The item you were expecting has arrived.”
And with that, someone else’s complexion had noticeably brightened.
Ketir, who had been buried under a mountain of paperwork like a natural disaster, had also ended up managing the mages’ transaction. Though Baron Embio had helped…
He looked like a total wreck.
His face had thinned, sharpening the line from his cheeks to his jaw, and the shadows under his eyes—which had already been dark—had grown so deep they looked ready to swallow his entire face.
His pallor had been so bad it was concerning, as if he might keel over at any moment. But the moment his workload eased, his color miraculously returned.
Ries briefly admired how much livelier he looked, but his eyes quickly shifted to the box Ketir was holding.
“I personally inspected it. Everything appears to be in order. I believe it’s safe to try it on immediately.”
The box was matte black with neatly engraved patterns and tied with a soft silver ribbon. Clearly, they’d paid attention to the packaging, perhaps to suit the buyer’s status.
Inside was clothing: a crisp white dress shirt and a pair of perfectly pressed black trousers—simple, clean, and stylish enough for any occasion.
But even before Ries could fully take that in, one item resting on top instantly grabbed his attention. A silver bell on a red leather cord. The combination was way too familiar.
Ketir’s expression soured.
“…That’s a choker, isn’t it?”
He got it. The design perfectly matched Ries’s usual collar, so depending on how you looked at it—it was a collar, plain and simple.
Even phrasing it nicely… yeah. Still a collar.
Ries wore a similar one in cat form, sure, but as a person? That was different. His expression twisted up in tandem with Ketir’s.
“…Let’s just keep this in storage for now.”
Apparently Justyn felt the same. The collar disguised as a choker quietly disappeared into his hands.
Next came the fitting.
Ketir stepped out for a while, and Ries—refusing Justyn’s offer to help—fought through the process alone.
By the time he finally stumbled out of the dressing room, both his hair and clothes were a mess. It had been so long since he wore human clothes that everything felt awkward.
“Hold still.”
Even seeing him in such a ridiculous state, Justyn didn’t laugh. Instead, he came closer and began gently fixing Ries’s clothes and hair.
He straightened the collar, smoothed the rumpled fabric of the shirt, and carefully redid the half-assed knot at the front.
Then, brushing back his hair and adjusting the crumpled hem of the trousers, he finally stepped back.
“…Uh, thanks.”
Was there anyone else who’d ever had a duke dress them so tenderly?
As the realization set in, embarrassment slowly crept up his spine.
But even more flustering than the act was the way Justyn stared at him afterward—unmoving, gaze locked, studying him as if trying to memorize every detail.
His silver eyes roamed aimlessly, seemingly reflecting his master’s scattered thoughts. And sure enough, what came out of his mouth next was anything but casual.
“…Beautiful.”
“…Y-You could’ve just said I look cool.”
“You look cool and beautiful.”
“……”
Heat surged uncontrollably across Ries’s face. If only he had fur right now—it would at least hide some of the blush. With nothing to cover it, he couldn’t stop fidgeting with his hands and feet.
Knock knock.
A light tap at the door cut through the charged silence between them.
“Are you finished?”
“……”
“……”
A fact they’d both forgotten suddenly blared back into their minds. Oh, right—Ketir was still waiting outside…
The human and the Myo tribe member who had both blanked out turned their heads toward the door in sync.
“Come in.”
At Justyn’s word, the door opened, and Ketir stepped in, holding an entirely new stack of papers they hadn’t seen before.
He glanced at Ries, then gave a small nod.
“Looks good.”
The style was simple but sharp. The hidden details sewn into the outfit made it clear just how much time and money had gone into its creation.
But Ketir’s narrow gaze didn’t leave after his evaluation. No—it lingered on Ries’s face. More specifically… his cheeks.
…Wait, are they still red?
Ries hastily scrubbed at both sides of his face. Whether it worked or not, at least Ketir finally dropped the topic.
But it didn’t stop there.
Thud. Ketir set the papers down on Justyn’s desk, then turned back to face Ries. His jet-black eyes seemed to glint with unusual sharpness today.
“I heard you’ve agreed to take on the role of aide.”
“Uh, y-yeah?”
A bad feeling crept up from his feet, slithering its way around his legs.
Ries swallowed dryly and shook his head frantically.
“I-I mean, yeah, but Justyn said I didn’t have to actually work!”
“That’s true. However…”
A pale finger pointed at the towering stack of documents.
“It’s dangerous to know nothing. Someone may notice something off about you.”
“……”
“At the very least, you should understand what an aide does. The Duke also agreed with this.”
Creaaak. Ries turned his head ever so slowly.
Master… what is this I’m hearing?
His silvery-gray eyes were slowly filling with betrayal. Feeling the sting of that glare, Justyn quickly added:
“It’s… too much.”
“I already reduced it.”
“……”
No room for negotiation. Even Justyn had nothing more to say after that.
“It might seem like a lot now, but the longer you stay in the mansion, the more you’ll inevitably interact with others.”
“……”
“If you’re not well-prepared, someone might start to suspect your identity. Even if they don’t discover you’re a Beastkin, things will get complicated.”
And just like that, the airtight logic left Ries with nothing to say. He groaned miserably.
…Ketir’s right.
This was a hard-earned identity. He had to protect it with everything he had.
If he half-assed the job and someone figured out it was all a lie… he’d toss and turn at night in frustration.
Of all the jobs the Crown Prince could’ve picked, why did it have to be “aide”…? Ries was starting to resent him a little.
“…Fine. I’ll study.”
Eyes clenched shut, he gave in.
Being a cat was nice, but he wanted to stay by Justyn’s side in this form, too. If that meant studying, then so be it.
“That’s a wise decision.”
He thought he could do it, but—
Thud. A fresh new stack of papers landed on the desk out of nowhere. Ries stared at it like a raccoon watching cotton candy dissolve in water.
“Your fabricated identity may be low-ranking, but it is nobility. I recommend familiarizing yourself with etiquette.”
“……”
Where the hell did those come from?
Had this all been a trap from the start? Did they really expect him to memorize all of that?
His head swirled with questions—but the only thing that actually escaped his lips was:
“…You scammer…!!”
