Chapter 15

“I’ll finish disposing of it before it’s too late.”

Gerard left at sunset, leaving only Kain and me in the chamber.

He was draped in a richly embroidered robe, gold filigree glinting at the hems—yet I barely noticed it.

Because all my attention was fixed elsewhere.

Not even a single scar…

His pale skin stretched smooth and flawless over his chest, muscles rising and falling with every steady breath.

I was staring when a low murmur cut the air:

“Pervert.”

Wh—what?!

My head shot up, and only then did I realize I’d been blatantly ogling his bare chest.

No, no, it’s not what you think!

I shook my head furiously, but Kain only drew his robe closed with a faint scowl.

“Chrr…”

So now, on top of thief and would-be escapee, I was branded a pervert.

Could my reputation sink any lower?

“Didn’t think you’d look at me with eyes that lewd. I’ll have to be more careful.”

“Chrrt!”

No, don’t be careful! That’s not what I meant at all!

I clutched at my head in frustration. Overhead came the soft sound of laughter.

What’s so funny, lizard?!

I glared up at him, but a large hand descended and covered me whole.

“Chrrt!”

Hey! Too heavy!

I wriggled free, only to find myself nearly at his eye level—he had flopped down on the bed, face buried in the mattress.

“Weak little thing.”

Mocking me again?

I bared my teeth, ready to prove the might of an omnivore’s bite, when—

“I like you.”

The words stopped me cold.

“Chrr?”

Why?

I tilted my head, forgetting my vow to stay defiant.

Kain only smiled, as if my squeaks meant nothing, but the smile wasn’t false.

Why would a duke lie to a squirrel?

Why… like me? Just because I’m weak?

I couldn’t stop the questions from circling. My own father had called me useless. My gift—reading thoughts, hearing animals—was so pitiful I couldn’t even wield it against stronger people.

Why would he say he liked me?

Yet there was no deceit in his face.

Timidly, I tapped the back of his hand. Say it again? Please?

Kain’s eyes softened, amused.

“See? You understand me. You’re clear about what you like and dislike. And…”

He trailed off, lips pressing together.

Thinking. Debating whether to say it.

“The last reason… I’ll hold back. Not certain yet.”

With that, he set me gently onto a tiny bed of my own—crafted by the fortress’s master carpenter, lined with fabric finer than any noble’s sheets.

Hmm. Cozy.

I sank into the blankets, the warmth enveloping me.

“Good night.”

His voice rumbled low, and not long after came the slow rhythm of sleep.

So much for Gerard’s warning about how alert Kain was at night.

If anything, he drifted off too easily now.

I slipped from my little bed and padded to the window. Still he slept, breathing deep.

Everyone must be worried by now…

I slumped by the sill, gazing up at the moon. Thoughts of my companions on Bear Mountain filled me.

Dragged here without so much as a goodbye—had they prepared for winter yet?

Sure, clever Doctor Rabbit would handle things, but still.

I never intended to stay in the Black Dragon Fortress forever.

Only until it’s safe.

Escape would be easy enough. The window wasn’t even locked.

Yet something held me back.

What was he going to say?

That last reason, the one he’d left unsaid.

Why had he really brought me here?

And why—just for a moment—had I turned human again?

The questions gnawed at me, long into the night.

***

The scratch of a pen filled the ducal study.

“You seem in good health of late, my lord.”

“Do I?”

Gerard ventured carefully as Kain signed the last document.

The heirs of Kreutz usually vanished for a week or more when the Madness struck. This time, Kain had returned in less than half that, looking steadier than ever.

And this morning, he had even left his chamber… smiling.

Gerard, who had served him since boyhood, felt shivers run down his spine.

Why?

He could guess the cause—but not the reason.

And so, unusually, he dared to ask directly.

“My lord… did something good happen?”

“Good?”

“You keep… smiling.”

Kain’s pen halted.

Smiling? Me?

Even he found it strange. Dukes had little to smile about: endless disputes between houses outside, endless responsibilities within.

Boring, thankless work.

Yet lately… mornings began with a whip-like tail thumping him awake.

Can that be called a good thing?

Despite himself, he chuckled faintly. The image of a tiny creature kicking at his blankets warmed him.

Gerard looked horrified, but Kain ignored it.

“There were pawprints on the window.”

“What?! Then the thief tried to escape again? Perhaps we should fetch a taxidermist—”

“It didn’t look like an escape attempt.”

No scratches. No force. Just a few tiny handprints, like autumn leaves pressed on glass.

“Maybe he was just… enjoying the night air.”

Kain snorted. A squirrel, admiring the moon. Ridiculous.

“I’ll warn him again,” Gerard sighed.

He had reason to worry. Since boyhood, Kain had suffered brutal insomnia. The Madness, the assassins that stalked him nightly… he’d never slept easily.

All his guards knew to hold their breath outside his chamber.

No wonder Gerard had panicked when Kain declared he’d keep a strange squirrel by his bed.

But now—

“No. I didn’t wake,” Kain said flatly.

Not last night, nor any night since the squirrel had been with him.

Just like that first meeting…

He remembered the mongrel mercenaries. How he had driven himself into collapse, on purpose, to bleed off the symptoms.

And then—

“Chrrt!”

A squirrel, no bigger than his fist, had clung to his leg and shaken him awake.

Had even tended his wounds. Fed him medicine with tiny paws.

He still didn’t know what that medicine was.

But the act itself… strange, foolish… had felt like warmth.

As if telling him, don’t die.

In a world where weakness meant death, it had been his first taste of kindness.

And, impossibly, it had let him sleep.

Of course he had searched the mountain at dawn. Of course he had found that albino squirrel with cherry-red eyes.

The palace had ordered him to deliver any such creature at once.

But why should he?

Mine, Kain thought now.

No one would take it from him.

Not the palace. Not anyone.

No matter what it really was.

“Have lunch sent up again,” Kain said.

“Yes, my lord. And for the thief?”

“Everything. The finest. He especially likes southern fruit—send for more. Maybe acquire an orchard there.”

“…At once.”