It didn’t end there. After checking Justyn’s hand, it was only natural to wonder about what lay further up, and once he’d confirmed that, of course he grew curious about the state of Justyn’s face as well. Ries was desperate to see with his own eyes how much his master had recovered.
Slowly, stealthily, the hand that had been fiddling with Justyn’s slipped beneath his sleeve. Ries’ fingers searched insistently across the skin hidden under the fabric. He only meant to feel for raised veins, but—
“Hm?”
What he felt was unnaturally rigid—hard, as if Justyn were tensing his muscles with all his might.
Puzzled, Ries lifted his gaze to him. Justyn’s head was tilted down, unable to meet his eyes, his ears burning crimson. They were so red Ries wouldn’t have been surprised if they burst.
“…Ah.”
Only then did it hit him. His actions might easily be… misunderstood.
Ries froze, unable even to pull his hand away. If he’d been in his cat form, his tail would have fluffed up and exploded. Staring at Justyn, who was so clearly flustered, made Ries’ heart pound faster and faster.
Why… why am I like this?
Sometimes, standing before his master, his body slipped beyond his control. His heart would lurch, his ears rang, his fingertips tingled for no reason… just like now.
He tried taking deep breaths, but it did nothing. In the end, Ries abandoned his bold plan of checking Justyn’s condition thoroughly and chose escape instead.
Poof!
Light engulfed him. In an instant, his body shrank down to a fist-sized ball, dropping softly onto the floor.
“…Meow.”
From the pile of fallen clothes peeked a yellow cat, who immediately began washing his face with his paws—his pitiful attempt to scrub away his embarrassment. And Justyn…
“……”
His hand lingered on the spot where Ries had touched him, his expression oddly wistful. His ears still blazed red.
Naturally, the other two in the room didn’t miss a thing.
―Tsk, tsk, tsk.
Sefiut clicked his tongue loudly, shaking his head at their clumsy blunder.
“……”
Ketir didn’t even bother to hide his sour look. Hardly respectful toward his lord, but what did it matter? Both his master and the cat had long since fallen into their own private world.
***
The ducal estate was in an uproar. Not only had a ring of retainers embezzling the family coffers been exposed, but Count Averitt—mastermind behind it all—had escaped prison.
The breakout left parts of the underground dungeon damaged, prisoners scattered, and even some knights injured.
For so much to happen in a single day—peace would have been stranger.
Though Justyn subdued Averitt and threw him back into a cell, the man apparently remembered nothing before or after his escape.
Since he’d never possessed a shred of martial ability, the question of how he’d injured knights and fled remained a mystery.
And probably always will.
Who would guess that the late duke’s soul, twisted into a Wraith, had goaded him on? The lost memories were real enough; Averitt was probably half-mad now, convinced of his own injustice.
Serves him right. Not that the ones stuck cleaning up the mess could laugh about it. Ketir, running ragged since early morning, certainly couldn’t.
So they’re short-handed, huh?
That was what came of cutting out everyone linked to Averitt. A sign of just how deeply the count had wormed his way into the household. This chaos was bound to drag on for a while.
Still, there was good news. None of the injured knights were fatally hurt, and none would suffer permanent damage. The same was true for Melissa and her husband, who had suffered at Edler’s hands.
And once Ries heard that, he couldn’t stay still.
“Mew, mew~.”
He pestered Justyn until his master agreed to take him along to visit.
Busy as he must have been, Justyn granted the request without hesitation. It wasn’t the first time Ries had been carried in his arms, but it still felt awkward.
They arrived at the infirmary within the castle. The soft chatter spilling from inside cut off the instant Justyn opened the door.
“Y-Your Grace? What brings you here—ah! F-Forgive me!”
“Stay lying down. It’s fine.”
The sudden arrival of the highest authority in the house drained the color from the knights’ faces. One even tried to stand and salute, only to collapse in a heap.
As ever, Justyn waved off the ceremony. The knights’ expressions wavered between relief and fear.
Should they be moved that he had come personally to check on them, or terrified he was about to thunder down orders? Their uncertainty was plain.
The sharp unease that once clung to Justyn was much lighter now.
His efforts weren’t in vain, it seemed. Ries’ tail flicked back and forth on its own, betraying his good mood.
That was the problem with being a cat—his body and tail gave him away at the slightest change in feeling.
“Oooh…”
“So cute! Must be because he’s a Spirit Beast.”
“No wonder Melissa praises him to the skies.”
“Wait, where’s that doll we saw before?”
“Didn’t come along this time, huh?”
…He had to admit it. His soft, fluffy body was a natural mood-lifter. Entranced by his swishing tail, the knights whispered their admiration to each other.
They seemed to have forgotten Justyn could hear every word. Still, better that than sitting frozen in fear.
“R-Ries…?”
And a little apart from them lay the one who had given Ries reason to beg for this visit.
“Mew… mrrrow…”
Melissa lay swaddled in bandages from head to toe. They’d said she would recover fully, but it was impossible not to worry.
Ries tapped at Justyn’s arm. After a short pause, Justyn loosened his hold, and Ries hopped lightly onto the bed.
“…Hhh.”
A faint sob drifted from above.
He froze mid-step, startled, and looked up—sure enough. Melissa’s green eyes brimmed with tears.
Why… why is she crying?
The paw Ries had raised hovered awkwardly in the air. Around them, the other knights fell silent.
“I-I’m sorry… I’m so sorry, Lord Ries…”
Her first words were an apology. For what?
“I promised this time I’d protect you, but… nghh. I went down all alone again. Because of me, your beautiful fur was ruined… I’m the worst trash in the world…”
Ah. That.
The comment about his fur was a little odd, but Ries felt no desire to blame her.
He’d seen it—Melissa had done her best. She hadn’t been able to hold out to the end, but she’d bought precious time.
Without her, Sefiut might have burned himself out much sooner. Without her, Ries—exhausted from fleeing Averitt—might not have been able to stop it. Without her, he might have been caught by Edler in the count’s body.
She had only been swept away by an overwhelming force, but she had blocked every possibility and fulfilled her role.
So there was nothing to forgive. Ries scampered forward and tapped her leg with both paws, leaving tufts of yellow fur on the blanket.
Melissa stared at him blankly. Then—
“Uhh… nghhh… Waaaah!!”
She burst into tears, sobbing loudly.
Her wails rang through the infirmary, so loud she had clearly forgotten Justyn was even there.
The paw Ries had offered was quickly seized, squeezed, and kneaded. Maybe she regretted not petting it before Averitt stormed in, because she seemed intent on stroking every bit of fur between his paw pads.
A few moments passed like that before—
“Enough.”
Justyn freed Ries, his expression faintly displeased.
Only then did Melissa seem to realize he was right in front of her. Her face went pale as she scrambled upright.
“…Forgive me. To fail twice in guarding the one I serve is an unforgivable mistake—my sin. I’m unworthy to remain by Lord Ries’ side!”
Unsteady though she was, she bowed deeply, not only consumed by guilt but clearly ready to beg for her post to be revoked.
“Your skills are lacking.”
The words came from Justyn. The man incapable of empty platitudes, especially to anyone but Ries.
His reply was so blunt it was brutal. Melissa flinched as if struck, and the knights holding their breath nearby jolted. Even Ries shivered.
N-No, this isn’t good.
The hard-won goodwill Justyn had been building was at risk of crumbling. Ries was about to thump him with a paw when—
“But what happened was beyond your power to prevent.”
The voice above his head was unexpectedly calm. After a brief pause, as though for the knights’ sake, he went on,
“…Such trials can be a chance to hone your blade. But overreaching will only break you. For now, focus on recovery. When you’re whole again, then temper your sword.”
Advice, plain and simple. The meaning was don’t worry, just heal—almost like a blessing.
The knights looked bewildered, unsure they’d understood correctly.
But they didn’t get the chance to ask. Justyn turned away, cold and decisive, signaling he had no further business here.
Of course, with Ries gathered firmly back into his arms.
“……”
He said nothing on the way back. But Ries thought he understood.
His first time speaking so much to the knights. His first time giving them advice. He was embarrassed, that was all.
Well, whatever.
Good things were good things. Ries’ tail swished again, satisfaction swelling in his chest as he watched his master slowly, steadily change.
