Night fell slowly, slipping through the window cracks and hanging softly on the ceiling. In the kitchen, the oil lamp glowed dimly, casting orange shadows that danced gently across the walls. The cold air left from the afternoon rain made the house feel quieter than usual.
Hana sat on the thin carpet, tucking her legs under a small blanket, with a bowl of warm rice and omelette resting on her lap. She blew gently before taking a bite.
Beside her, Mathien in his cat form sat with his tail curled neatly. His eyes followed every movement Hana made, occasionally sniffing the aroma of the steaming eggs.
"Don't just stare, Chiro. You already ate, right?" Hana chuckled, glancing at him.
Mathien let out a soft huff. "I'm merely ensuring nothing spills. Cleanliness is part of discipline."
"You hoping I'll share, huh?" Hana teased.
"I never beg," he replied sharply, though his eyes never left the food in Hana's hands.
Hana stirred her rice slightly. "You were sulking at the supermarket, weren't you?"
"Who was sulking?"
"Well… when you were called fat. Then you rubbed your belly and immediately sat with your back turned to that cashier lady."
Mathien turned his face away. "I was just… strategizing an attack. If I transformed there, all humans would panic. I was actually saving the world."
"Wow, so you're a hero?" Hana stifled a laugh and then took a bite of the remaining egg. "Thanks, Your Highness, World Savior Prince."
Mathien merely sneered, but the tip of his tail twitched gently, as if quietly laughing along.
For a while, they just sat side by side like that. The dim kitchen light, the insects outside the window, and the aroma of freshly brewed mint tea filled the small space with an unseen yet tangible warmth.
Hana turned to him. "Chiro."
"Hm?"
"If one day you go back to your kingdom… will you forget me?"
Mathien didn't answer immediately.
He looked at Hana with a different gaze—calm, deep. Then silently, he moved closer, sitting directly on Hana's lap.
Hana froze. "Eh—"
"I don't know what will happen later," Mathien said softly. "But tonight… I'm here. And so are you."
The sound of crickets grew louder outside. Hana sighed gently, burying her face into Mathien's soft, warm fur that smelled faintly of firewood.
"Okay. Tonight is enough," she murmured.
Some time passed, and the bowl in Hana's lap now held only a spoon and a few grains of rice sticking to the edges. She leaned back against the kitchen wall, rubbing her full stomach with a satisfied little smile.
Mathien still sat calmly on her lap. His eyes glanced at the remnants of food in the now-empty bowl.
"I have a question," he said suddenly.
"Hm?" Hana turned.
Mathien looked at the empty bowl. "What's so great about eating only eggs?"
Hana paused for a moment, then shrugged with a smile. "Well, nothing special, I guess. But it's good. Especially when the rice is warm."
Mathien frowned slightly. "At the palace, breakfast usually consists of honey-buttered wholegrain toast, slices of smoked meat, soft cheese, and fresh fruit. That's a proper breakfast."
"Wow," Hana widened her eyes. "You eat fancier than a seven-star hotel."
"Yes. Because I am a prince." Mathien lifted his head slightly, his tone a bit proud. But moments later, his gaze softened. He looked at Hana differently—slightly hesitant, but honest. "And you eat just rice and eggs every day?"
"Sometimes instant noodles," Hana replied casually. "Or fried tempeh if I have extra money. Grandma used to make pumpkin soup too, but now she can't cook for long periods."
Mathien lowered his head slowly. For the first time that night, his expression darkened slightly.
"I don't understand how you can smile living like this."
Hana chuckled softly. "Because I have Chiro."
Mathien fell silent.
The words were simple. But they reached his ears like a strange, undeniable spell.
"You're not angry at the world?" he asked softly. "Or at fate for giving you a life like this?"
"Sometimes," Hana admitted. "But life isn't about what we have, right? It's about who we have."
She stroked Mathien's head again, and this time her smile was far calmer.
"And now I have you."
Mathien closed his eyes, letting the touch sweep over his fur. In his chest, something stirred—not because of salmon, not because of magic.
But because of something he had never felt before.
Warmth.
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The next morning, dew hadn't completely evaporated from the leaves. The air was still cool, and the sunlight filtering through the clouds felt warm but faint.
Mathien sat at the edge of the porch, his tail curled lazily beside him. He was neither asleep nor fully awake. His eyes followed a figure standing at the doorway—Hana.
The girl busied herself with tidying her worn bag. Her uniform was slightly faded, the top button undone, and her hair left loose without a ribbon or the cosmetic touches typical of noblewomen that Mathien had seen in the palace.
Hana's skin… pale, but not perfectly maintained. There were darker spots around her wrists from frequent sun exposure. Her fingertips were rough, slightly peeling.
She was far from the word 'graceful'.
Very different from the women of Valtherion, whose skin was as smooth as silk, hair always neatly combed, scented with magical flowers, and adorned with delicate jewelry.
Yet still…
Mathien couldn't stop looking at her.
He didn't know when it started. But now, his eyes always searched for Hana whenever she disappeared from his sight.
"Chiro, I'm heading out!"
Hana's cheerful voice snapped him out of his reverie.
Mathien gave a slight nod—or rather, twitched his ears as a reply.
"Take care of the house, the plants, and yourself too," Hana continued, slipping a slice of bread into her bag. "Sorry, no salmon this morning."
Mathien only huffed. But silently, something restrained his urge to say: be careful.
Hana's footsteps started to fade.
Mathien remained seated. His gaze followed her small back down the village path, bathed in the soft morning light.
And for some reason, he couldn't bear to look away. He wanted to follow her wherever she went.
But he didn't move.
He just lowered his head slowly, exhaling deeply, and said in his heart,
"Stop making me care."
Mathien had just about to close his eyes when his ears twitched.
A sound.
Not Hana's voice, nor the wind. But—
Rustle… scuffle…
He opened one eye. Lifting his head slowly.
A branch snapped. The earth was slightly disturbed. Leaves moved swiftly, as if a small creature didn't know the rules.
Mathien turned.
And there it was.
A wild black cat, sleek fur, thin tail, and narrow, lazy eyes. Its body was thin, bones prominent, and it dug into the ground with fervent energy.
Mathien immediately stood. His tail flicked slowly, eyes narrowing sharply.
"What are you doing in my territory?" he muttered in a low, threatening tone.
The black cat glanced briefly, then went back to digging near Hana's mint plant.
Mathien walked forward slowly, full of authority, like a palace guard confronting an intruder in the sacred hall.
As he approached, the black cat stopped.
It turned quickly.
And crouched.
"How dare you!" Mathien leapt swiftly, landing right beside it. "Dare to—LEAVE YOUR WASTE—in my yard?!"
The black cat glared, then panicked and leapt over the wooden fence.
Mathien sniffed the almost-soiled ground. Then let out a soft click of disapproval.
"Impudent. Not even an hour after Hana left, and someone's already trying to disrupt the kingdom's order."
He sat there, guarding the pot as if it were his throne.
And from inside the house, a gentle breeze carried faint sounds from the kitchen—the lid of a bottle left ajar, Hana's hurried footsteps earlier, and the lingering scent of instant noodles in the air.
Mathien took a slow breath. He turned toward the road Hana had gone down.
"Hope her exam goes well."
Then he lowered his head, resting his chin on his paws, staring at the yard—unconsciously beginning to guard the little house as if it were his own kingdom.
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