Justyn, who once couldn’t even stand showing Ries his bare face, would never proudly show off a body in such a similar condition.
And yet, instead of his usual black clothes that concealed every inch of him, he appeared in a robe that left him far more exposed. That could only mean something had shifted in him… maybe this was his way of showing trust.
Just thinking that made Ries’s chest ache, swelling with emotion. He bit down on his lip and padded over to Justyn, rubbing up against his leg the way he always did when he was in a good mood.
His tail curled lightly around Justyn’s ankle, and only then did a soft sigh of relief escape from above. Justyn bent down and gently patted his head.
“You’re so sweet.”
Apparently, his master was having similar thoughts. That voice—so sweet it tickled his ears—drifted down on a warm breath.
“Mmmrrr.”
Why is he like this all of a sudden?
The thought came and went, quickly chased away by Justyn’s hands—expert now, so much so it was easy to believe he’d been possessed by some divine spirit—stroking his fur just the way he liked.
He’s getting better at this, Ries thought, purring with contentment as he melted into the touch.
“Mya.”
But when Justyn’s hand started patting his rear, Ries stretched out a back paw and firmly pushed it away.
Whenever Justyn got handsy with his backside, Ries usually responded in one of two ways—either he got swept up in the dopamine rush and purred uncontrollably, or he clung to the last shreds of his human dignity and fought back.
Today, it was the latter. Justyn, eyes full of regret, reluctantly pulled his hand away.
Of course, the moment the two of them were completely lost in their own little world, someone had to show up.
“……”
It was Ketir. After carefully handing Ries’ doll to a maid, he’d come to check in.
He knocked politely and opened the door—only to immediately shut it again when he saw the strange standoff inside.
What the hell…?
Why was his master dressed like that? Why was he in that position?
The questions popped up, but within three seconds, Ketir brushed them off with expert precision.
A wise aide knew when to step in and when to back off. He decided to come back tomorrow and turned to leave.
And it was absolutely not because he couldn’t be bothered.
***
The next day.
Sefiut, now scrubbed clean and looking much more presentable, was—unsurprisingly—still in a huff.
No matter how many times he was spoken to, he ignored them all.
The only time he actually opened his mouth—
—For a second there, I thought I’d turned into a lump of dough. I won’t be sleeping anytime soon. I refuse to end up as a loaf of bread.
Spoken like a true ghost who didn’t sleep in the first place. Ries couldn’t bring himself to argue. The truth was, when Ketir dragged Sefiut off, he’d seen the perfect chance to wash his hands of the whole mess—and taken it.
Still didn’t think he’d say he didn’t want to go.
It had been three days since that laundry-day disaster. Ries, who’d holed himself up the whole time, finally accepted it was time to go outside again.
I hate taking walks just for the sake of it.
As much as he wanted to be lazy, his own nature wouldn’t let him sit still.
Better to get it over with than deal with the consequences later. Rest could come after. He narrowed his eyes with grim resolve—he had work to do.
First priority: breaking Justyn’s curse.
He needed to confirm if anyone else in the mansion had picked it up, or how far it had spread. That kind of thing came first.
And if I can keep an eye on the Count while I’m at it, even better.
That bastard had been openly hostile toward Justyn. Who knew what he was plotting in the shadows? With his cat form, it’d be easy to sneak into places and sniff out weak points.
Of course, he could only afford to think like that because he had someone to guard him. Ries looked up at Melissa, who was staring at him like he was made of solid gold.
“Kyaaa!”
The moment their eyes met, she screamed. She clapped her hands over her mouth instinctively, but her face was already melting in delight.
“You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this moment! I hadn’t heard anything in days—I thought it was all a dream! But you summoned me again after only three days! Ah, such noble elegance, fur as soft as cotton candy, eyes that shine like stars… Lord Ries, you must be the most precious cat in the entire world…”
“…Sir.”
“I want to pet you. I want to squish your tummy. I have to sniff your paw pads.”
“Sir Melissa.”
“Gasp—! I-I’m so sorry! I lost control for a second!”
She didn’t have to say it—her whole body screamed it. And Ries felt the exact same way. Disgusted, he darted over and pressed himself against Ketir’s leg.
“Aaaah… Did I scare you…?”
“Hrk…”
Ries had to fight the overwhelming urge to correct her. It wasn’t fear—it was revulsion. She was just way too much of a pervert.
If she ever found out there’s a person inside this body, she’d have a full-blown meltdown.
She might even try to sew her own mouth shut. But that wasn’t Ries’ problem.
“Lord Ries… I really, truly can protect you. Please don’t abandon me!”
“Waaahh.”
“Oh gods—he swatted at me with his paw! This must be a divine bless—n-no, thank you for your forgiveness!”
Ries gave her a few deliberate taps, a clear get it together, then took a bold step forward.
One lovestruck knight obsessed with a cat, and one cheerful aide thrilled to have dumped all responsibility on his boss. With these two in tow, Ries had one objective…
Find the head steward of the Duke’s estate.
His tongue flicked out in anticipation. Like a cat spotting a mouse, he licked his lips.
***
There was only one reason to track down the steward.
When he’d helped the Count up after that glorious knockout punch, Ries had seen it—the curse, clinging to the man’s body.
Back then, everything had already been chaotic enough dealing with the Count alone. There was no chance to pursue the steward too. He’d had to grit his teeth and save it for later.
And now… it was finally time.
—Or so he thought.
“Ahem. Been a while. Out for a stroll?”
Count Averitt appeared with a smug grin, completely derailing his plans. Ries glared up at him with the most unwelcoming look he could muster.
The Count paused, wincing slightly as if his bruised sternum still ached. His eyes flicked to Melissa, clearly trying to act like nothing had happened. She caught on fast and straightened up, but—
“Ah! I, um—”
“No need. I can already tell. Haven’t seen your face before—must be one of the regular knights.”
He cut her off coldly, already turning away. His gaze shifted to Ketir, who stood beside them blinking impassively.
Tch. Still has that creepy look in his eyes.
Ries made sure to insult him in his head at least once. He really was just like his master.
Not that Ketir knew, or cared. Their eyes met, and then Ketir gave a smooth, practiced bow.
“I heard you’re recovering well. Glad to see you moving without issue. I’ll pass your regards on to the Duke.”
“No need. I was planning to visit myself. Got a few things to ask, and… I’ve been thinking about something I said last time.”
“So, you’re here to apologize.”
“Well, I wouldn’t go that far… Sure, that kid and I have our differences, but personal grudges and business should be kept separate. As the elder of my House, I suppose it’s only right I make the first move.”
Ketir’s nose twitched slightly.
He’s holding in a laugh, Ries noted. He’d gotten used to reading Ketir’s expressions by now.
Shameless bastard, he thought, nodding to himself. That was probably exactly what Ketir was thinking too.
Suddenly, his side started to itch. Ries glanced over—and locked eyes with Count Averitt. This time, the man was staring straight at him.
And those eyes…
…They’re dripping with greed.
It wasn’t just his imagination. Those murky red eyes practically boiled with desire.
“By the way, I’ve been hearing an interesting rumor. They say this cat’s a spirit beast. Supposedly predicts future events, always on point. You’ve spent quite some time with him, haven’t you?”
“…Well, yes. But the rumors are a bit exaggerated.”
“What do you think? Ah, but I guess that’s a dumb question. Obviously you’d keep him around if he’s useful. I’d say the Duke’s house is about to enter a golden age.”
“Who knows. My master’s… a little different from you, Count.”
