PSITAC 11

“I honestly don’t know why things keep happening like this, but could you please manage Hisha properly?”

“What?”

Feeling unfairly treated, words started spilling out of my mouth like a broken motor. I snapped right back at Nael.

“What do you mean ‘what’? I’m saying Your Highness the Crown Prince isn’t managing Hisha properly! You’ve already lost him twice—why are you blaming me?”

“You… right now…”

Nael narrowed his eyes at me. The moment I met that flashing gaze, my heart dropped.

Could a look alone kill someone…?

His expression was dangerously sharp. If looks could kill, I might already be a corpse.

“Cough.”

After saying everything I wanted, my senses finally came back.

This wasn’t modern society. This was a medieval-based romance fantasy world where royalty could kill people if they felt like it.

I need to watch my mouth.

“So… I just mean you should take better care of Hisha.”

“Fine. I’ll make sure to take very, very good care of Hisha, as you say.”

It sounded like a warning.

A warning that if something like this happened again, he would not let it slide.

He probably meant to assign surveillance to Hisha, but I felt confident. No, seriously—there were already too many animals in this mansion. Why would I be obsessed with Hisha specifically?

Nael gave me one last glare, then left with Hisha on his shoulder.

When the sound of horse hooves finally disappeared, I called Emma.

“Emma, where’s the salt? Salt! There’s definitely something evil around here.”

“Pardon?”

“Sprinkle all the salt we brought!”

I was sure the salt we used earlier wasn’t enough.

“Yes, Your Grace!”

Let’s just not meet again like this!

* * *

Honestly, it was ridiculous.

After Hisha left, Merry looked a little gloomy, but there was nothing I could do.

“Merry, if you keep acting like this, we’re all going to die. I’m serious.”

“Kyiiiing…”

Merry rubbed his wet nose against my cheek.

“You’re upset?”

“Kiing…”

As he struggled to wriggle out of my arms, I felt a bit bad for him. He had finally met a friend he liked, and it just had to be a ticking time bomb.

But I had a miracle snack that could solve anything!

Dried sweet potatoes with a sugary aroma—that was the magic treat that could charm Merry.

Merry had a strong allergy to meat for some reason, so he mostly ate vegetables.

“Merry, how about we make up with this?”

As I walked over and turned my back slightly, Merry slowly turned his head.

His previously gloomy eyes sparkled again.

“Right? This is your favorite.”

A magical snack that even a sulking dog would come running back for—winter puppy fattening poison!

As the sweet smell spread, Merry suddenly turned toward me.

“Ooooh!”

Unable to resist anymore, he ran to me. I put the chopped sweet potatoes in a bowl, and he devoured them in seconds.

Heh. This little cutie.

Merry quickly forgot about Hisha and rolled over, showing his belly.

“Woof! Kiing!”

He waved his thick front paws, asking to be petted.

Watching him, I suddenly thought of Hisha earlier—those eyes looking down at me from Nael’s shoulder…

But then—

‘I don’t even like His Highness the Crown Prince anymore!’

Come to think of it… was that a bit too harsh?

I’d never directly told someone I disliked them before, so it kind of stuck in my chest.

“No, but Nael was wrong first! What, just because he’s the Crown Prince he can do whatever he wants? I’m the Duchess of Stadiun too! I’m rich too, okay?”

Ugh, what am I doing? No one’s even listening.

Only Merry blinked at me. Beside me, Jelly was curled up sleeping, and next to Jelly was Ttori, and next to that was a black cat.

It was basically an animal farm.

“Merry, can you tell them to go sleep in their rooms?”

“Woof!”

Merry rubbed his head against me happily.

Sometimes it really felt like he understood me. At this rate, he’d be speaking full sentences soon.

Wait. No, not in this world.

“Merry, did you just understand me?”

“Woof woof!”

He barked as if confirming it and tapped my arm with his paw.

“What, you want praise?”

“Kiing…”

I reached out and patted his head.

“Since you understand so well, can you go tell the Crown Prince something for me? That I don’t actually hate him that much.”

Ah, seriously. Agatha, keep your villain image intact.

Sighing, I hugged Merry and closed my eyes.

* * *

“Hisha, do you have any idea?”

Nael asked with a sulky expression. As his eyes lost their icy edge, Hisha revealed his true form.

A massive navy-blue wolf swayed its tail gently.

[I don’t remember anything. When I woke up, I was already there.]

Nael ran a hand through his hair in frustration.

If it had been before, he would have immediately suspected Agatha. Nine times out of ten, she was the culprit in situations like this.

But this time felt different.

Agatha’s wide violet eyes when she shouted at him… he almost wanted to believe her.

“Why is this happening?”

[I don’t know either.]

Hisha tilted his head innocently.

Nael stroked the giant wolf’s head and fell into thought.

‘I don’t even like His Highness the Crown Prince anymore.’

Why did that keep replaying in his head?

When Hisha disappeared, he had gone to search half out of doubt, half out of certainty.

But now… Agatha’s denial kept bothering him.

Agatha trembling while denying his words.

Agatha, who had spoken casually since childhood, suddenly snapping at him politely.

Nael removed his glasses and placed them on the desk, pressing his temple.

‘I don’t even like him anymore! I don’t know why this keeps happening, but could you manage Hisha properly?’

Why did that keep echoing in his mind?

It wasn’t a phrase he expected to hear from Agatha.

“Why do I keep thinking about it?”

Nael muttered in annoyance and shook his head.

But even as he did, the image of Agatha shaking her head came back.

“…She said she dislikes me?”

Nael frowned.

“Why suddenly?”

It didn’t make sense.

“She’s always like this. Everything is on her terms.”

Like and dislike, back and forth. As if others were meant to dance to her rhythm.

Even though he knew he shouldn’t be affected by it, he still was.

His thoughts tangled endlessly, and Nael closed his eyes.

“Your Highness?”

“….”

“Your Highness!”

Only on the second call did Nael finally look at his aide.

“You were asleep like this? You should’ve rested properly.”

Nael raised an eyebrow. The aide, understanding the signal, sighed.

“Well… Hisha isn’t eating.”

“What? Is he sick?”

“It doesn’t seem like it.”

Nael stood up.

When one thing went wrong, something else always followed.

Hisha’s existence as a divine beast—and the fact that he could speak—was a secret only Nael knew.

Nael left the room.

“Where is Hisha?”

“In the garden.”

Hisha was lying on the grass as usual, but refusing food was strange.

When Nael was finally alone with him, he heard something absurd.

[It’s tasteless.]

“What?”

[I said it’s tasteless.]

“Stop talking nonsense. Why aren’t you eating?”

Nael rubbed his temple.

He’d forgotten his glasses, which made everything feel sharper and more irritating than usual.

Yet Hisha seemed completely unbothered.

[It’s true. I can’t eat something that tastes bad. I already know better food exists. Why should I eat this? And it’s careless. Food should look good too.]

Hisha tapped the bowl with his nose.

Nael stared at him silently.

“Fine. Then tell me—who taught you taste?”

His voice was calm, like the edge of a storm.

Hisha tilted his head.

Then casually licked his paw and replied:

[There. At Stadiun. The food there was good. Looked nice too.]

A vein popped on Nael’s forehead.

It felt like a crack was about to form in the air.