The vet shuddered. He never should’ve come here on vacation.
His glory days flashed before his eyes.
Not long ago, a craze had swept through the noble circles—raising rare and exotic pets. Riding that trend, he’d launched his veterinary career and ended up making a fortune he’d never even dared to dream of.
He used to think he was lucky. But now it felt like all of that had been carefully orchestrated… just to lead him to this disaster.
If I mess this up, I might lose my head.
Who was Duke Laufe, after all?
The man said to have gone mad with bloodlust and killed his own parents, the former Duke and Duchess. There were countless rumors—how servants and retainers had died by his hand.
If someone like that took issue with you, a quick death would be the kindest outcome. More likely, you’d suffer something far worse.
So no matter what it took, this cat had to live…!
On the surface, there were no obvious symptoms. The cat looked alert and healthy.
But of course, the real concern was what was going on inside. If needed, he’d have to use herbs to induce vomiting. With a tense face, he pulled out his examination tools.
He checked the cat over carefully, for quite some time.
Then—
“Ah!”
The vet gasped and dropped his stethoscope in shock. Ketir immediately stepped forward.
“Is something wrong?”
“No, no… it’s not that. I mean—uh—there’s no issue at all. He’s perfectly healthy.”
“…Healthy?”
The stammering was bad enough. But no issues whatsoever?
Normally, it took time to formally request a priest. That’s why they’d brought in a vet—to treat the cat quickly and stabilize him until the priest could arrive.
There was no backup plan beyond that. So the vet’s confident declaration left Ketir a little stunned and deeply suspicious. The man already looked like a nervous wreck—now he was pale as a sheet, like he’d just seen a ghost.
“Y-Yes, of course! I mean, some cats can eat grapes and be totally fine, right? I think he’s just one of those lucky ones!”
“……”
Ketir narrowed his eyes. He’d never heard of such a thing. Still…
He looked down.
As soon as the vet released him, Ries hopped free with a flick of his paw.
He didn’t look sick at all. In fact, he was batting at a dangling sleeve playfully, acting no different than usual. If anything, he seemed happy.
Ketir hesitated. What if he forced the cat to vomit when there wasn’t anything wrong? That might cause more harm than good.
If there really was no issue, it might be best to simply wait for the priest and leave it at that.
Eventually, he gave a nod.
“…Understood. However, since there’s still a chance symptoms could appear later, I’ll ask you to stay here at the estate for the rest of the day. You’ll be compensated accordingly once treatment is complete.”
“Of course! No problem at all!”
There was no better option.
Veterinarians were few and far between. Only nobles were willing to spend that kind of money on animals, so the profession was naturally scarce.
And now that night had fallen, going out to find someone else was practically impossible.
Especially here—at House Laufe.
Thanks to its infamous reputation, bringing anyone onto the estate discreetly was no easy feat. It would take time—too much time. Better to keep this man close until the priest arrived.
“Oh, and since it’s dark now, I must ask that you don’t wander around the estate.”
“I-I understand.”
“If you need anything, use the bell beside the bed. And under no circumstances are you to go upstairs.”
“……”
Ketir left him with a stern warning—just in case the man got scared and tried to run.
The little color that had returned to the vet’s face vanished instantly. That should do it. Ketir no longer spared him another glance and gently scooped Ries into his arms.
Time to head back.
…I won’t be able to visit the Duke tonight.
The sun had already set.
Still, the Duke would surely be worried, so before going to his own room, he planned to slip a note with the exam results under the door.
After that, all his attention would go to monitoring Ries. Even if he tried to do anything else, he knew he wouldn’t be able to focus.
Meanwhile, the one at the center of all this concern—
What’s with that guy?
Thanks to his sharp ears, Ries was picking up on sounds even Ketir couldn’t hear—and he froze mid-step.
It was a voice—half panic, half hysteria—clearly the vet’s. It rang out loud and clear from the room they’d just left.
“I swear I heard waves. That was definitely the sound of waves!”
Waves?
That nonsense muttering sealed it. The vet, who had at least seemed somewhat rational despite his fear, had just been officially downgraded to lunatic.
Still… Ries was curious. He quietly perked up his ears. The voices were faint now, but he managed to catch a few disjointed words through the muffled distance.
“—definitely… ancient text… heart rate… waves…!”
……
Ries fell silent.
He had no clue what the guy was rambling about. At first, the mention of “heart rate” made him wonder if it was about him—but then came a string of completely unrelated words, and any sense of coherence vanished.
Should I sneak a listen tomorrow?
He’d memorized where the vet’s room was. If the guy wasn’t gone yet, maybe he’d swing by—assuming he remembered.
But the next morning, all he learned was that the vet had already left at the crack of dawn. Apparently, he’d even squeezed in a final checkup while Ries was still asleep.
Fast on his feet, that one.
***
“Thank goodness…”
Justyn finally exhaled, visibly relieved after confirming with his own eyes that Ries was perfectly fine. His breath came out in a long, shaky sigh, heavy with all the emotion he’d been bottling up.
Ries had braced himself for a scolding—maybe some angry words, a lecture, something.
But nothing came.
His expectations crumbled. The guilt that had been quietly gnawing at him now grew heavier, like a stone in his chest.
Cautiously, Ries scooted closer and sat down by Justyn’s foot. A large hand reached over and gently scratched behind his ear, light and delicate like a feather brushing against his fur.
“Meow.”
You’d think Justyn would be used to him by now, but he still treated Ries like some fragile little plush toy.
Well, someone had to take the first step—and it would be him. He had messed up, after all. So Ries decided: he’d be the one to reach out.
He planted his hind legs and used his front paws to climb up Justyn’s leg like it was a tree trunk. The hand that had been petting him froze midair.
Maybe it was the way his long body stretched out—it seemed to catch Justyn off guard. His eyes fluttered slowly, blinking as if in a daze, gaze locked on Ries.
“Mrrow~”
Ries tapped him gently with a paw. Pick me up! Whether Justyn understood the cue or not, he awkwardly shifted and reached out.
Supporting Ries under his armpits, he carefully lifted him. Soon, Ries’s front paws were resting on Justyn’s shoulders.
“…Well then.”
So far, so good—until it came to his dangling lower half. Justyn clearly had no idea how to support him properly, and his hands hovered aimlessly, unsure of where to go.
This is kind of uncomfortable. Ries was about to hop down and switch tactics when Justyn moved. He headed for the bed.
“Nyah~!”
Much better.
As Justyn sat down on the bed, his knees propped up and back slightly reclined, it created the perfect perch for Ries’s back legs.
Alright—imperfect, but still a solid hold. Ries decided to overlook Justyn’s awkward posture for now. He’d figure it out eventually.
Time to put the plan into motion.
This is your reward.
Purring and kneading—the dream combo for any cat owner.
A sweet, affectionate furball glued to your chest, clearly radiating I love you, I feel safe with you!—what pet owner wouldn’t melt?
Purring couldn’t always be forced, but kneading? That, Ries could deliver.
He spread out his body to maximize contact and began pressing his front paws rhythmically against Justyn’s chest and collarbone. The first few presses were a little clumsy, but he got the hang of it quickly.
“…Ries?”
A bewildered voice drifted down from above.
Nope. Don’t ruin the moment. Ries pushed himself down firmly, returning to his spot like nothing had happened.
There was only one reason he was doing all this—he wanted to help ease his owner’s mind.
All things considered, things hadn’t ended badly.
Sure, there’d been a bit of a scene—bringing in a vet, calling for a priest—but in the end, they’d proven he was totally fine.
The vet even suggested it might be okay to let him nibble on human food from time to time. Honestly, the guy had turned out to be a real MVP.
