Chapter 3
“Hmm? Why are you standing in front of the door?”
It was Allen, the pitiful aide of Duke Redmond.
“Ah!”
Allen let out a small exclamation as if he had realized something.
“You also want to run away after realizing His Grace’s cruelty, don’t you? Sorry. If I tried to save you, I’d be dead. Still, no matter how cruel His Grace is, he wouldn’t go that far with a cute little cat.”
I glanced at the door behind Allen and turned away.
He didn’t seem trustworthy at all for being the duke’s aide, but if I got caught trying to leave, the cruel duke might harm me.
I’ll have to sneak out later.
“Still, don’t lose hope, kitty. You’re the first one who’s seen His Grace’s blood and survived. Usually, people die before they even get to see it, but, well…”
I decided to pretend I hadn’t heard Allen’s rambling.
He might look incompetent, but there had to be a reason he was the duke’s aide. Saying such terrifying things so nonchalantly proved it.
“Oh right, aren’t you hungry? I brought food and water.”
— Food?
“Meow?”
Now that I thought about it, I hadn’t eaten all day, just ran around endlessly. My stomach even seemed to growl.
Looking around, I quickly strode ahead.
“Um, kitty? That’s a bit…”
When I hopped up onto the tea table, Allen made a troubled face.
He seemed displeased that a cat wanted to eat on the duke’s tea table.
But what could I do? I was a noble lady, after all. I had dignity. There was no way I could eat off the floor.
When I stubbornly stared at him, Allen eventually gave up.
“Well, since His Grace brought you here himself, it should be fine. Besides, cats usually climb all over anyway.”
Allen forced himself to rationalize as he set a plate on the table.
— Ugh!
But when I saw what was inside, I jumped back in horror, covering my nose.
“Meow! Meow!”
On the plate was a heap of food scraps all mixed together.
Just the sight made me gag, and I glared at Allen.
“You don’t want it?”
— What, you expect me to eat this garbage?
Though only “meows” came out, I scolded him to show my rejection.
— Even for a cat, giving food scraps? Do they feed the duke’s horses trash too?
Allen frowned, listening intently.
— Horses must get high-quality hay, right? But the duke’s cat is supposed to eat garbage? How does that make sense?
After my sharp meowing, Allen nodded and opened his mouth.
“So you’re not hungry… maybe you’re bored? Oh no, I can’t play with you though, I’ve got work to do.”
He grumbled about being buried in the endless tasks His Grace gave him, complaining while disguising it as a rant.
Come to think of it, every time he opened his mouth, it was to insult Artif.
— Forget it. Clean food and water… sigh, it’s useless to say more.
As I let out a sigh, Allen made a strange sound.
“Hoohhh~ even your sighs are cute!”
I felt more nauseated than when I saw the food scraps and turned my head away.
Allen, eyebrows drooping in a creepy smile, suddenly began petting me all over.
— What are you doing?!
Startled, I belatedly slapped his hand away. But Allen was relentless, finding openings to stroke me again.
— Can’t you take your hands off me?!
“As expected of a cat, so picky. My cat’s the same way, very aloof. I’ll introduce you two sometime—maybe you’ll be friends.”
Despite his casual tone, his hands were annoyingly quick.
“What if you two fall in love at first sight though? I don’t want to become His Grace’s in-law.”
Allen muttered nonsense, staring at me with a weird gleam.
“But a kitten between you two would be so cute. The fur color is so unique… just like Lady Charlize’s hair.”
— …!
I froze at the sudden name, forgetting to resist.
Even in this wretched state, that bumbling aide had recognized me immediately.
“When I first saw her, I was stunned by her beauty. Her face literally glowed, you know?”
— Ahem, well, I have heard that before.
I was used to compliments about my looks, but they never got old.
Allen, after buttering me up, briskly ran his hand over my fur again.
“Haa… I should go. My tyrant of a boss makes me work overtime every day.”
At last, after endless whining, Allen left the room and shut the door.
‘Good. Now I can head to the library…’
I was about to jump down from the tea table when I spotted the food scraps again and scowled.
Maybe I should raid the dining room first instead of the library.
It was well past midnight when Artif returned to the mansion.
“You’ve returned, Your Grace.”
Allen quickly followed after Artif, who was heading straight to his bedchamber.
“Did she eat?”
Artif’s voice was flat, indifferent.
But Allen was deeply moved even by those casually thrown words.
‘His Grace is worried about my meals…!’
The sting of being thrown out of the carriage that morning was still fresh.
But with such a warm remark, all resentment vanished in an instant.
“Heh, I ate something simple since I had so much work. Honestly, I don’t know why I’m busier when Your Grace is back.”
Allen bubbled with lighthearted grumbling. But Artif’s cold reply shattered his brief joy.
“Not you. I meant Shasha.”
“S-Shasha? Who’s… Oh! You mean the cat you picked up?”
“Yes.”
Allen’s lips pouted in disappointment, but he dutifully reported.
“I gave her food, but she wouldn’t eat, so I left it there.”
“She lived on the streets—she should’ve been starving. Why didn’t she eat?”
“Probably not hungry. Usually cats eat when they’re hungry if food’s left out. I’d know, I keep a cat myself.”
Allen puffed up proudly, lording his “expertise” over the novice owner.
Artif, ignoring his boasting, thought for a moment before giving a curt order.
“Call a veterinarian tomorrow.”
Back in his chamber, Artif for once went straight to his bed.
“Shasha… where is she?”
Though he walked in a rush, Shasha was nowhere in sight.
“What?”
“Shasha. Where is she?”
Allen peeked his head in and glanced at the bed.
There were silver hairs scattered across the rumpled sheets, but no Shasha.
“Uh… maybe she’s hiding somewhere? Cats do that a lot.”
Flustered, Allen lifted pillows and peered under the bed.
“Shasha~ where are you…!”
He called desperately, sweat dripping down his back.
‘If she doesn’t show up soon, I’m dead!’
While Allen fought for his life, Artif, a Sword Master, sharpened his senses and searched for her presence.
He strode toward the sofa by the window.
Under the moonlight streaming in, a small ball of silver fur gleamed.
“Shasha.”
At his soft call, Shasha remained curled up, lost in dreams.
Her little pink nose twitched as she purred faintly. Artif, without thinking, reached out. When his finger brushed her damp nose, he flinched and withdrew.
But Shasha, exhausted from the day, didn’t stir at all.
He gazed at her quietly, then tapped her nose again. Still no reaction.
This time, he tugged out the paw she had tucked under her body and gently kneaded it.
“Myaa…”
Annoyed, Shasha stirred and mewed in her sleep.
Artif found himself smiling faintly without realizing it.
“Your Grace! Maybe we should send men to search for Shasha—oh, she’s here? You should’ve told me…”
Allen, who had rushed over pale with fear, pouted at being left out.
“Be quiet.”
Artif, forgetting he had just been teasing her, scolded Allen before carefully lifting Shasha in his arms.
So small and frail—light enough to fit snugly in both hands.
He thought again how fortunate it was that he’d passed by that street earlier today.
As he turned to lay her on the bed, his eyes fell on the tea table. His expression instantly darkened.
“What is this?”
Allen peeked nervously from behind.
On the tea table sat the food Allen had given Shasha earlier.
“It’s Shasha’s meal. I gave her all the things cats usually like.”
His eyes begged for praise: See? I did well, didn’t I?
“You mean to tell me… you fed my cat a pile of food scraps?”
But expectations are rarely rewarded.
