A pale, stricken face. Hair a tangled mess, as if she’d sprinted the whole way here. As soon as Melissa began apologizing, her expression rigid with guilt, a heavy wave of remorse crashed over Ries. And she hadn’t come alone. She’d gone back and brought Sefiut with her—the very one they’d used as bait.
Ries lifted his gaze slightly, checking Justyn’s expression. …Judging by the look on his face, forgiveness wasn’t on the table.
Not that I can blame him.
From Justyn’s point of view, the knight he’d assigned as a bodyguard had completely failed her duty. She deserved a stern reprimand at the very least. Still, Ries couldn’t help but feel responsible—he had been the one who dragged Melissa into this in the first place. And beyond that…
Something about it didn’t sit right.
He thought back to the strange string of events. Melissa had collided with a servant and fallen at the most convenient moment. A knight stationed outside the meeting room had suddenly run off with stomach pains…
If you really broke it down, more than half of Melissa’s so-called mistake was probably his fault. Instead of sitting with the guilt, Ries dramatically waved his front paw.
“Meow! Myaaah!”
First things first—let’s get Sefiut back.
Thankfully, Melissa picked up on his meaning immediately.
“Ah! Here he is. He must’ve rolled around a bit—there’s some dirt on the edges, but…”
It almost felt like Sefiut was screaming, “I haven’t even recovered from what just happened, and now this?!”
…But that was probably just in Ries’ head.
The doll safely returned to his arms, and along with it came a heartfelt apology.
“I want to apologize to you as well, Lord Ries. I failed to protect you because of my own shortcomings. I deserve to be stripped of my title as a knight.”
Hmm. Ries rolled his eyes. She said all the right things, but her complexion looked even gloomier than before—clearly this was eating at her. Sure, she could be annoying sometimes—like when she pestered him just to touch his paw—but seeing her this deflated still tugged at his conscience.
Finding someone like Melissa again wouldn’t be easy.
And it wasn’t just about her skills with a sword. She had a decent presence, was sharp when it came to the estate’s inner gossip, and despite being assigned to protect a cat, she took her role seriously and never slacked off.
She doesn’t even avoid Justyn like everyone else does.
Sure, she was a little tense around him, but that was just how one treated a boss at his level. Maybe the curse lifting had something to do with it, but even so—Melissa had shown the courage to approach Justyn herself and ask to learn from him. That had left a strong impression. People like her weren’t easy to come by.
“Meow. Meow meow.”
Add the guilt she was already drowning in, and yeah—this was a complete knockout. Ries tapped Justyn’s arm lightly with a paw. Then, he waved toward the air—more specifically, in the direction of the office. Justyn picked up on it right away.
“…You want to go back?”
“Meow.”
Ries nodded. A soft breath slipped out, quiet but firm. Justyn, as always, was powerless when it came to his cat. In the end, he could only go along with what Ries wanted.
“We’ll talk about this again later.”
“Ah… y-yes! Understood!”
With a quick word, he turned and began walking. His pace was so fast that Melissa—still clinging to his shoulder—was already fading into the distance. Still, Ries could see her covering her mouth, clearly overwhelmed with relief.
Oh, come on.
Did she really think he was taking her side? Not wrong, exactly… but even in a moment like this, she was so consistent. Ries lazily waved a paw in her direction, and her expression turned into one of pure ecstasy.
“An… angel…!”
…Let’s pretend we didn’t hear that.
Ries pulled his paw back and turned away from Melissa.
***
The chaos had finally settled. Just as planned, only those harboring ill intent had been singled out and shown a warning through Justyn. Now, all that remained was to wait for Ketir’s report.
He’ll finish it in no time.
This was the same man who’d wrapped up all preparations to leave the capital in under a week after Justyn’s shocking announcement. If nothing else, his momentum was incredible. Ries figured three days—at most—and he’d have every piece of information ready to go.
“……”
So then why was he still wide awake, eyes open in the dark? Ries rolled over on the bed, fidgeting restlessly.
The only sounds in the room were the soft patter of rain against the window and Justyn’s steady breathing. Normally, it would’ve been the perfect lullaby—he would’ve been out cold by now. But tonight, for some reason, the silence was suffocating.
“Just like what happened to me, someone else is going to notice that glow of yours. They’ll start wanting you too.”
That voice—gentle and warm—echoed faintly in his ears like ripples across still water. It left behind a residue that clung to him, pulling him further from sleep.
He pressed his front paws over his ears and held them there—but it was already too late.
…Wait. “Just like what happened to me”…?
Before he knew it, Ries had fallen into the classic trap of sleepless humans: spiraling thoughts, one after another.
He said he was drawn to me? That he… wants me?
Well, sure. That made sense—at least on a logical level. He looked like a cute cat on the outside, after all. Any proper caretaker would be reluctant to let go of a beloved pet they’d doted on for so long.
But still. Something feels… off.
Why were his paws—or more accurately, all four of them—curling in on themselves? Why was it suddenly hard to breathe? His heart pounded in his chest like he’d just overheard someone’s secret confession.
With a sharp breath, Ries sat up and fixed a slow, accusing stare on Justyn. This was his fault.
Why did he have to say it like that? With so much feeling?
The unfamiliarity of lying awake, restless and frustrated, only made it worse.
And those eyes—so tender, so full of affection, like Ries was the most precious thing in the world—that was cheating. If Justyn hadn’t been fast asleep, Ries would’ve been kicking the blankets off with his hind legs in protest.
He rolled one way, then the other, tail lashing side to side in silent irritation. That’s when—
—What are you doing?
Ack. Ries flinched. His body jolted as the voice rang out.
He’d completely forgotten there was a third being in the room. But that wasn’t what concerned him.
He immediately checked Justyn—still asleep, eyes closed. Ries had assumed the voice would wake him, but he hadn’t moved at all. Maybe he was just a heavy sleeper…
—Ah, I put him to sleep.
Or not. Ries turned with a scowl toward the floating fish now drifting lazily through the air.
“Put him to sleep”…?
He knew Sefiut could do it—he’d knocked out both Justyn and Ketir during their first meeting without either of them noticing. Still, doing it now, without warning and for no apparent reason, felt abrupt.
Reading his silence, Sefiut offered a simple explanation:
—Something’s coming.
“…Meow?”
What is?
The answer came fast.
At the edge of the door, a faint, blue shimmer began to stir—slow and undulating, like liquid light.
It gradually expanded, taking shape, until a full figure emerged.
A translucent, blue-bodied entity moving effortlessly through walls and doors. Ries instinctively shivered.
A ghost.
—One tried to attack me before. I caught it and tethered it to the Count. Seems like it found something—coming here in the middle of the night like this.
Thankfully, it was one Sefiut recognized. Ries eased his crouch and straightened up.
Now calm enough to focus, he examined the unfamiliar ghost across from him. It was wearing armor—likely a knight of the estate in life.
“……Mrow?”
But something was off. Instead of approaching, the ghost just lingered awkwardly near the door, pacing but never stepping closer.
—Well? What are you doing over there?
Sefiut squinted at him with suspicion, voice full of impatience.
Not that it made him look intimidating—he still wore the form of a cute, floating plush fish.
Even so, the stare seemed to have an effect. The ghost opened his mouth to reply—
—Blaarghh!
Instead of words, he gagged.
Startled, Ries could only stare.
…Ghosts can gag?
Just great. Another weird fact he wished he didn’t know.
The ghost knight quickly composed himself, brushing off the embarrassing slip before stammering out a rushed excuse.
—S-sorry! I didn’t mean to—I just, it’s so repulsive. My body reacted on its own…
—Repulsive?
—Y-yes. This room is filled with something cold and foul. I can’t get any closer—it’s too much.
Repulsive wasn’t exactly a compliment, but Ries already had a hunch.
The curse.
He’d always found it strange that ghosts avoided Justyn, but never questioned it too deeply. If it was because of the curse… it finally made sense.
Sefiut had once described the curse clinging to Justyn’s body as a crystallized mass of the world’s accumulated malice. And like ghosts—who remain bound to this world by lingering regrets or deep emotional scars—it made sense that they’d react to such a thing.
But the curse was different. Deeper. Heavier. More overwhelming.
If ghosts could sense it, their avoidance was perfectly understandable.
—Oh please. Don’t be dramatic.
—I-it’s not drama, I swear—urk!
Despite his protests, the ghost knight continued to gag in between words.
Finally, Sefiut sighed and gave up.
—He’s useless like this. We’re not going to get anything out of him. He needs to go.
Ries agreed instantly, nodding hard.
But… he paused and glanced behind him.
Sefiut, who had been at his side long enough to read him like a book, understood right away.
—Don’t worry. This spell’s mine. He’ll stay knocked out until we get back.
And sure enough—no flicker beneath the eyelids, no change in his quiet, even breathing. His heartbeat was slow and calm.
Reassured by that steady rhythm, Ries finally raised his paw.
—Who knows? Maybe he’s dreaming of something sweet.
Sefiut’s quiet guess hung in the air, and Ries silently hoped it would come true.
