The baron was utterly defeated.
Elizabeth's sharp wit and the twins' cheeky remarks left him grasping for control. Though he wanted nothing more than to see at least one of his daughters married off, forcing the matter would only backfire.
In hindsight, Elizabeth's suggestion wasn't entirely unreasonable. Rather than pouring resources into debuting her in the capital's cutthroat social scene, it might be wiser to find a skilled knight nearby and bring him into the family as a consort.
As he began to entertain this alternative, the atmosphere shifted. There was tension brewing, and the baron couldn't shake the unease that had begun to gnaw at him.
Turning to Michael, he asked, "When will you be moving to the castle?"
"Two or three days should be enough to prepare," Michael replied with a calm confidence.
At least his last remaining son was cooperative, even if the baron knew that cooperation had co at a steep financial cost.
Once the baron and his family returned to the castle, Clara eagerly helped Michael pack.
Knowing she and Henry would be accompanying him, her excitent was palpable.
She humd a light tune as she folded clothes and organized belongings, her joy infectious.
Michael couldn't help but smile at her enthusiasm. This ti, returning to the castle would be different. No longer an outsider, Michael was the heir—and the family's investnt in securing his goodwill extended to those he cared about.
The morning's funeral and Alfred's cryptic words echoed in his mind: "I'll ensure you claim everything that's rightfully yours."
Moving into the castle with his aunt and uncle was the first step in realizing that promise.
Once packing was done, Michael grabbed his sword and bow to head outside.
Strength and skill were paramount, especially now. In a land rife with territorial disputes and tribal skirmishes, an heir who couldn't defend his claim would be devoured.
Determined to excel, Michael practiced until his muscles ached and his breath ca in gasps. The effort left him proud, the satisfaction of improvent radiating through him.
As he returned to the house, he was greeted by an unexpected sight: Clara playing with a kitten in the living room.
The tiny black cat, adorned with a red ribbon, batted at its own tail with playful enthusiasm.
"Where'd the cat co from?" Michael asked, intrigued.
"I found her while hanging laundry. She wobbled over to , poor thing, so I gave her so milk. She was so hungry! I think she's just a kitten and might have lost her mother. Isn't she adorable? I thought we could keep her."
The kitten, as if understanding the conversation, tilted her head and let out a soft ow.
"ow?"
Michael laughed. "She's a cute one, all right. Can I hold her?"
Clara handed over the kitten, who fit snugly in Michael's hands. Her fur was impossibly soft, like silk, and her weight felt oddly substantial for such a small creature.
"She's so light," Michael said, stroking her gently as she stretched lazily in his arms.
"Have you nad her yet?"
"Not yet. Would you like to?"
"How about Nyangnyang? She ows so much, it seems fitting—ow!"
The kitten, as if offended, extended her claws and scrambled up Michael's shoulder.
"She likes it!" Michael declared, laughing as the kitten perched and purred.
"Look! She's wagging her tail. That ans she's happy, right?"
Clara hesitated. "I think... I've heard cats wag their tails when they're annoyed..."
Michael shrugged. "She's just playful. Aren't you, Nyangnyang?"
Despite her doubts, Clara didn't press the issue. If Nyangnyang brought Michael joy, that was enough.
To her surprise, Alfred welcod the kitten as well. He even instructed them to feed her at and fresh milk daily.
Nyangnyang quickly made herself at ho, following Michael wherever he went. At night, she curled up at his feet, her warmth a comforting presence.
While Michael slept, Nyangnyang slipped out to find Alfred.
Her erald eyes glinted in the moonlight as she confronted him.
"You heard him!" she hissed.
Alfred, calm as ever, rely raised an eyebrow. "Heard what?"
"My na! He dared to call Nyangnyang!"
Alfred's lips twitched, but he suppressed his laughter. "It's a charming na."
"Charming? It's humiliating! Tell him my real na or I'm leaving!"
Alfred's expression hardened. "You signed a contract, Sphinx. Or have you forgotten the at, milk, and gold you've received?"
The kitten, bristling with indignation, hissed again. "It's Neferteri Hatshepsut Sphinx, not Nyangnyang! Do you understand how degrading this is?"
"And yet here you are, owing. It suits you."
Her hissing turned into a full-blown snarl. "That's a racial trait, not my choice!"
Alfred's rare chuckle echoed in the quiet forest.
As the moon hung high, Michael slept soundly, blissfully unaware of the drama surrounding his new companion.
The next day, Michael entered the castle with a black cat perched haughtily on his shoulder. Attempts to remove the feline were futile, as it bared its claws and growled threateningly whenever disturbed.
Clara and Henry accompanied him. They had agreed to use the castle's basent for their work when necessary. Since the previous executioners had also conducted their tasks within the castle, no special preparations were required.
Arriving at the castle in their carriage, they were greeted by the butler and head maid, who guided them to their respective rooms. Michael's accommodations were better than during his previous visits. Located on the third floor, his room overlooked the training grounds and had multiple windows, making it both spacious and well-ventilated.
After inspecting Clara's and Henry's quarters and finding them satisfactory, Michael nodded with approval. It was clear that the treatnt they received had noticeably improved.
Soti later, the butler escorted Michael to the baron's office. The baron stood with his hands clasped behind his back, gazing out the window.
"You've arrived just in ti. But what's with the cat?" he asked.
Michael explained the situation, prompting the baron to add, "Well, keeping a pet is fine, but don't let it interfere with your training. Now that you're fully imrsed in the noble world, there are so things you must keep in mind. The political situation within and around our castle is very complicated. You're aware that our territory, along with five others, recently separated from the Earl of Barkley, aren't you?
Reviews
All reviews (0)