Chapter 63
“What’s wrong?”
Wondering if the letter had bad news, I asked, a little worried. Phaeton puffed out his cheeks in a pout.
“There’s a shop on this island that sells cat food, and apparently it’s completely sold out! Hmph, whatever!”
“…Cat food?”
“They say stray cats tend to gather around because they feed them well. That makes it easier to spot the shop, supposedly…”
He glanced at Sophia, clearly hoping she’d side with him and say they were too busy to detour.
But what met Phaeton’s eyes was quite the opposite—Sophia staring back with wide, sparkling eyes.
“Um… Sophia, your eyes are kind of sparkling. You’re not saying you want to go, right?”
“…Not really.”
She was just curious about cats. She’d never seen one before. There weren’t any around the castle, and her only exposure to them had been through drawings.
She didn’t say all that aloud, but her brothers understood exactly what she meant. Both Joshua and Benjamin placed their arms over Phaeton’s shoulders.
“What are you waiting for? Lead the way.”
“If Sophie wants it, how can we say no?”
Phaeton’s eyes welled up with tears. As a final hope, he turned to Loray, but the latter didn’t even meet his eyes.
Where was his ally in this cruel world?
“Then we’ll have to go the other way. Not Hussen Street, but Rosenpine Street.”
He reluctantly unfolded the crumpled note to double-check the address, then pointed in the opposite direction of where they’d originally planned to go—away from Hussen Street and its bustling central square.
Since they didn’t need to visit that square, Sophia nodded without hesitation.
That was her way of saying: Please, lead the way already.
As they walked, she started hearing murmurs behind them. Her hearing wasn’t especially keen, but focusing on certain words made the scattered whispers more distinct, filtering through the voices of her group.
“An evil god…”
“There’s one here too? There was one on Hussen Street as well.”
“Idiots. It’s just a similar hair color. Don’t take the doctrine so literally.”
“Right. That hair color isn’t even that rare. And if it really was the evil god, wouldn’t they be dragging around a pitch-black familiar?”
“Telling us not to take the doctrine literally… you sound just like Monet. Want to end up like him?”
It seemed Sophia was the only one who heard it. Neither Loray nor Phaeton nor anyone else reacted to the mention of an “evil god.”
Wait, there’s someone else who looks like her? The same hair color… could just be a coincidence.
But then she remembered what Loray told her yesterday.
“He had the same hair color as you, and eyes that resembled yours.”
“That person… is still alive?”
“…Yes.”
Why did the name Lang suddenly come to mind?
“So… um, miss?”
“Ah—yes?”
“Are you feeling unwell?”
She must have missed Loray’s question while she was lost in thought. He looked at her with worried eyes.
“I’m fine. Really.”
She didn’t want to cause unnecessary concern over what might just be her imagination. So she let the thought go.
And then, a few more steps later, they began to see more cats.
A cheese-colored cat basking atop a wall with its eyes closed. A grey one lounging in the shaded alley corner like a little person.
They were adorable. No wonder people liked them so much.
It felt like they were close to the destination. And sure enough, Phaeton stopped walking and pointed to a signboard.
“Here it is. ‘The Cat Cries Meow.’”
What a blunt name.
“The shopkeeper has no sense,” Joshua muttered bluntly, only to be smacked by Benjamin.
Phaeton grabbed the door handle.
The moment the door creaked open, a small figure shot out through the narrow crack before anyone could react. Then the door swung wide, forced open from inside.
A woman in a yellow apron burst out, swinging a broom.
“Damn rat—!”
Startled by the sudden motion, Phaeton stumbled backward. Sophia, standing closest to him, got caught in his flailing arms and also lost her balance.
Fortunately, Benjamin caught Sophia just in time.
“Are you okay, Sophie?”
“Yes… thanks to you.”
As she gave a small nod, a pair of resentful eyes glared at them—Phaeton, still on the ground after landing squarely on his rear.
He pushed himself up and spotted something familiar on the floor.
It was the necklace Sophia had carried yesterday.
“Sophia, isn’t this yours?”
“Huh? Oh—”
The necklace had fallen off when she nearly tumbled. She’d wrapped it around her wrist, and it must’ve come loose.
Just as she bent down to pick it up, a grey rat darted forward and snatched it in its teeth before scampering away.
“Ah!”
Sophia let out an involuntary cry, and everyone around turned toward her.
That necklace was meant to be returned to its rightful owner. She couldn’t afford to lose it now.
“Sorry, Grandpa. Go on ahead—I need to catch that rat!”
“We could ask one of the guards to—”
Phaeton didn’t finish before Sophia took off running.
There were guards shadowing them discreetly to avoid interfering with their trip. She could’ve easily asked for help.
But Sophia still wasn’t used to having guards.
She’d spent so much time alone.
She’d always acted and planned everything by herself, even escaping the castle.
So if the guards weren’t in her direct line of sight, she forgot about their presence altogether.
“Everyone, go after Sophie. Don’t leave anyone behind.”
Since the guards weren’t only protecting Sophia, a few hesitated. But Joshua’s command made them move.
Benjamin backed him up.
“Do as he says.”
Joshua and Benjamin were trained in various combat arts and could take care of themselves. But Sophia was different—a small girl who had never learned any of that.
Obeying the two young masters, the guards ran after Sophia—every last one of them.
But there was a problem.
The path Sophia had taken wasn’t suited for adults.
The rat darted through narrow alleys, ones only small children could squeeze through. And Sophia had vanished down one of those paths.
“…Find out where that path leads. Now!”
While her companions panicked, Sophia continued her chase, glaring at the rat far ahead.
It kept glancing back at her, like it was taunting her—running, then pausing, over and over again.
So annoying.
And the alleys were so narrow—it was hard just to squeeze through.
“…Just wait till I catch you.”
I’ll roast you to a crisp.
Fueled by vengeance, she resumed the chase. The rat slipped through a hole in the door of a workshop and disappeared.
This is someone’s property… should I really go in?
Maybe under normal circumstances she would’ve hesitated. But her mind was consumed with the need to catch that rat.
So without delay, Sophia pushed open the door.
The lights inside were off, with only sunlight streaming through the windows. Shelves lined the walls, and tables were covered with bottles of all shapes and colors.
The place smelled faintly like an old bookstore—musty and slightly sweet.
She stepped in further.
From one of the tables, the rat poked its head out and scurried across the surface.
Its movement sent carefully arranged bottles toppling over.
“No—!”
The bottles hit the floor with sharp crashes, spilling their contents.
It wasn’t just one or two—multiple bottles shattered, liquids spreading across the ground.
The air filled with an overpowering mix of scents. She gagged and covered her nose with a hand.
But worse than the smell was the realization:
If the owner walked in now…
“…They’re going to think this is all my fault.”
It was the rat’s doing!
Despite the mess, no one appeared. Maybe the shopkeeper was out. If so, this was her chance to end things quickly.
Catch the rat. Apologize later. Pay for the damages.
Before things got worse.
Sophia dashed forward again. But the rat was agile—too agile.
It felt like it was mocking her.
She reached out as it ran across the shelves, finally grabbing its tail.
And just as she did—
A bottle above her tipped and plummeted straight toward her head.
