Chapter 72……………………..
After lunch, Aslan sulked hard at Minerva.
While Minerva was deeply lost in thought, preparing something, Aslan secretly slipped out through the window.
He jumped down from the second floor, landing on all fours with ease.
Then he stood up on two feet and kicked lightly at the grassy ground.
“Hmph, Mama’s a fool.”
There are so many dangerous things in the world! And she doesn’t even know how much I worry about her!
Unable to let go of his frustration, Aslan searched for a suitable tree nearby.
After confirming that no one was around, he unsheathed his claws and began furiously scratching at the bark.
He hadn’t shown it to Minerva, but ever since they’d decided to move, Aslan had been in a constant state of unease.
He may have gotten used to acting human, but at his core, he was still a cat.
And cats are territorial creatures.
Yes, they had moved for safety—but that didn’t mean this place could be trusted completely.
That’s why he had to see with his own eyes who the boss of this territory was.
The Archduke could be a dangerous man, so he had to be there too!
‘Uwaah, so annoying!’
Scratch, scratch, scratch!
When his scratching rage came to an end, Aslan spread his ten fingers wide.
His claws were sharpened to perfection.
With these, they could be a fine weapon if needed.
And with the scratching, his mind also calmed down.
If you’re angry, you just need to let it out.
‘If they don’t let me join, then I’ll just go myself!’
For Aslan, actions came before thoughts.
And he also knew that if you had an accomplice, the scolding was less severe.
‘I’ll rope Ayla in!’
That way, even if we get caught, the punishment will be lighter.
Aslan grinned slyly.
He’d noticed earlier that Ayla had also looked like she desperately wanted to join in the conversation.
Her trembling hands during the meal.
Her wavering pupils.
Her quivering lips!
Ayla was usually very good at keeping her expression under control, but nothing could escape Aslan’s feline eyesight.
No matter how tiny, every twitch was visible to him.
‘Besides, I’ve played with Ayla so much—she and I can read each other instantly!’
As Lloyd had wished, Ayla had grown accustomed to Aslan’s bold personality.
If he coaxed her a little, she’d surely cave.
‘Uncle Id might tattle to Mama if he finds out, so we’ll sneak off quietly.’
With that, Aslan began prowling the vast archducal castle in search of Ayla.
Meanwhile, Ayla was in an emergency strategy meeting with Lloyd and Pablo, the aide acting as the Archduke’s double.
“We have to prepare for this perfectly.”
Pablo wasn’t allowed to say a word.
No matter how close he was to Lloyd, a double was still just a double.
There were limits.
Ayla chattered away, showing the two adults a piece of paper filled with plans she’d thought up with her little head.
“We’ll say his social phobia got worse. That’s why my father, as the aide, will speak on his behalf. Just by looking in his eyes, he’ll know everything he wants to say.”
She even pushed forward several novels as reference.
The Beggar and the Princess, The Prince’s Lies to a Lady, 101 Ways to Deceive a Man.
“These will help with improvisation.”
Just from the titles, they were all romance novels featuring protagonists hiding their true identities.
Ayla had recently taken to reading romance novels, and it seemed she’d gotten thoroughly hooked.
It felt like the Archduke’s image was sinking lower and lower, but since they needed to get through the present crisis, Lloyd nodded anyway.
They even drafted expected questions.
Insisting that practice had to feel like the real thing, Ayla began a mock interview.
Crossing her arms and putting on an arrogant face, she said,
“You’ve kept me waiting for quite some time.”
“……”
Ayla didn’t know what Minerva was really like as a princess.
So she was copying the haughty princesses from stories and media.
Lloyd lowered his head, biting back a laugh so she wouldn’t be embarrassed.
“My deepest apologies, Your Highness.”
For once, Ayla was so absorbed in her acting that she failed to notice the adults’ inner turmoil.
Buoyed by confidence, her performance became even more imperious and sharp.
“I asked to see the Archduke. I wanted a private audience with him. Sir Mente, please leave.”
“His Grace cannot hold private audiences due to a unique illness. I beg for your understanding.”
“What illness could possibly excuse such rudeness to me?”
“I cannot say in detail, but you may understand it as an incurable condition acquired later in life.”
“What is its name?”
“……Social anxiety disorder and panic attacks……”
It wasn’t untrue, but saying it aloud made the Archduke’s image plummet even further.
Perhaps feeling the same, Pablo finally tore off the stifling mask and wig and said,
“Wouldn’t it be better just to reveal the truth?”
“No!”
“No way!”
Father and daughter shouted in unison.
During their time in the countryside, they had owed Minerva, and she in turn had received their help.
Even if both families were wrapped in lies, Minerva had unavoidable reasons.
But what about Lloyd and Ayla?
We lied for our own gain. It wasn’t like life or death, like for her. She’d see it as deceit.
She thinks I’m a nobleman. In truth, I’m an orphanage boy.
Maybe everything had gone wrong from their very first meeting.
That made setting it right even harder.
Lloyd stared heavily at the discarded mask and wig, while Ayla crushed her candy-wrapper-like dress in her hands.
The air grew heavy in an instant.
Pablo pressed his lips together, but words once spoken could not be taken back.
Lloyd slowly put the mask and wig back on.
“We still have time. Let’s talk more tomorrow.”
He also gathered up the novels and list of expected questions Ayla had prepared.
“I’ll study these, Ayla. Thank you.”
“……”
“Ayla?”
But Ayla showed no intention of getting up.
It wasn’t that she was drained.
Her gaze was fixed straight ahead—no, specifically, out the window.
Before Lloyd could ask why, Ayla pointed a trembling finger outside.
“F-Father. Th-there….”
Naturally, his eyes followed her finger.
And Lloyd rubbed his eyes in disbelief.
Because outside the window, Aslan was clumsily climbing up a tree.
“Eek!”
Pablo, unaware of Aslan’s physical prowess, shrieked in alarm.
Not that Lloyd and Ayla weren’t shocked too.
This was the third floor!
Sensing the stares, Aslan’s head snapped around.
It felt as if his gaze met Lloyd’s own through the opaque cloth of his mask.
Even monkeys fall from trees.
Cats too.
“Ah!”
Startled at being discovered so soon, Aslan lost his footing and slipped!
“Aslan!”
The moment he fell, Ayla rushed to the window and flung it open.
Luckily, Aslan had caught hold of a branch, clinging to it with both arms and legs.
But he wouldn’t be able to hold on like that for long.
Sure enough, a groan of pain escaped him.
“Ugh…!”
“W-what do we do! Your Grace, do something!”
Pablo tugged frantically at Lloyd’s arm, pleading for him to act.
If the princess’s daughter were to get hurt here, who could imagine Minerva’s reaction?
Lloyd thought the same.
If Aslan were harmed, Minerva might blame the “Archduke” for letting it happen.
If that happened, she might be so disappointed in him that revealing his true identity would become impossible forever….
“Damn it.”
Lloyd bit his lip.
Politics had no place in this moment.
Saving the child came first.
He hurried to the window and pulled Ayla back.
“It’s dangerous. Stay away.”
“Y-yes…!”
Ayla nodded, teary-eyed but relieved, certain her father would handle it.
Lloyd gauged the height from Aslan’s branch to the ground.
Back at the Mente estate, Aslan had survived a fall from a chandelier without injury.
But this was nearly two and a half stories. There was no way he’d land unscathed.
Fortunately, the tree wasn’t far from the window.
Lloyd dropped his cumbersome outer coat to the floor, peeled off his useless silk gloves, and climbed onto the windowsill.
Taking a deep breath, he prepared himself.
He had to reach the tree without shaking it too much, or Aslan might fall.
Hoo…
Steeling himself, Lloyd leapt nimbly onto the tree.
“Wow!”
The tree didn’t sway a bit.
Ayla let out an awed exclamation before she could stop herself.
Climbing down toward the branch where Aslan clung, Lloyd extended his hand.
“Aslan. Take my hand.”
