That night was quiet. The rain that had fallen since afternoon had stopped, leaving behind the smell of damp earth and a chill that slowly seeped through the corners of the house. In the small kitchen, still warm from the stove that had just been put out, two beings sat across from each other.
On one side, a chubby cat with golden-orange fur was staring intently forward. On the other, Hana, her hair tied up carelessly, wearing a thin, worn-out pajama, was stirring a cup of hot tea with the tip of a small metal spoon.
Between them lay a piece of grilled salmon.
"I'll put it here," Hana said casually, setting down a small plate of salmon in front of Mathien. "It was on discount."
Mathien didn't reply. His gaze fixed on the salmon, but he didn't eat it right away.
Hana raised an eyebrow. "Are you… sick?"
Mathien only let out a soft snort, then slowly leaned closer to the salmon. He inhaled deeply, letting the salty, oily aroma fill his nose. The magic in his body seemed to respond—but only faintly. Too faint. Like a coal barely touched by the tip of a twig.
Mathien's brow furrowed.
Then he turned.
His small nose, without a sound, moved slowly toward Hana.
Hana frowned. "Eh? Chiro?"
Mathien kept going. He sniffed her arm. Slowly. Then her neck, her shoulder, even the tips of her hair. A warm scent, fresh, and… something else. Like morning sunlight piercing through dew, like flowers that hadn't yet bloomed. But that wasn't what made Mathien freeze.
The pulse of magic inside him suddenly thudded.
Not from the salmon.
Not from the expensive foods he had once praised, not from the processed power of the royal palace.
But from this girl. From the fragile body of a human girl who didn't even know that she carried the very thing Mathien had been desperately searching for.
Magic.
Strong. Warm. Flowing endlessly, like a spring that never dried up.
Mathien stepped back. His eyes widened slightly. "Impossible…"
Hana was still staring at him, puzzled. "Why are you sniffing me?"
Mathien didn't answer. He glanced at the salmon, then back at Hana. Then at the salmon again. And in just seconds, everything became clear.
All this time, when he thought his magic increased after eating, it wasn't because of the expensive fish he had worshiped.
It was because of Hana.
Because the girl's energy had always been near him. Clinging. Flowing. Seeping silently into his weakened body. His magic hadn't been growing from food. But from someone's existence.
Hana was the true source of power.
"…Damn," Mathien muttered under his breath, half in disbelief.
"Eh? What?"
Mathien turned his face away, trying to calm the pounding in his chest from that unexpected conclusion.
If the enemy knew… if anyone knew… that this energy came from Hana, that this girl could refill a prince's magic just by existing—
He didn't want to imagine it.
And when Hana smiled softly while sipping her tea, looking at him like she always did, Mathien could only stare back—while a new wariness grew alongside his concern.
Hana put her cup down, looking at Mathien, who was still staring at her… too deeply for a cat.
"What? Do I have tea crumbs on my face?" she asked, rubbing her cheek in confusion.
Mathien snorted and turned away. "You're too careless to notice if you had a whole bucket of tea stuck to your face."
"Ha—hah? What bucket—" Hana frowned. "By the way, what was that expression just now? You looked like you sniffed the future."
Mathien pretended to scratch his ear. "Your future is a mess. Your hair's tangled, your pajamas are covered in fainted rabbits, and you just gave away an expensive fish… like that. Stupid or naive?"
"Not naive…" Hana leaned against the wall, pulling her blanket closer around her shoulders. "I just felt sorry for you, eating dry food every night."
Mathien narrowed his eyes. "I'm a noble being. I can live three days without food."
"But not three hours without throwing snarky comments, huh?" Hana grinned teasingly.
Mathien opened his mouth, ready to retort, but fell silent instead. The girl chuckled softly, then leaned her head back against the wall again. Her eyes half-closed, her face peaceful, though it was obvious how exhausted she was today. School, housework, and everything else… yet she still made time to prepare fish for a chubby cat who never really thanked her.
Silence lingered.
Mathien leapt down from the chair. He padded slowly to Hana's side, then—with reluctance—placed his paws on her lap.
"Eh?" Hana startled. "Chiro?"
"Quiet. Your body is warm. I'm assessing your function as a royal cushion," he said flatly.
"Whatever, Your Highness," Hana muttered, chuckling, her hand unconsciously stroking his head. Her movements were slow and rhythmic, brushing through the fine fur around his ears.
Mathien said nothing.
But inside, his magic flowed again. Warm. Steady. Calm. Like a drizzle tapping against freshly cleaned window glass.
"Chiro," Hana murmured drowsily, half-asleep. "If you were a real human, you'd be so cool, huh?"
Mathien opened one eye, staring at that drowsy face. "I'm not cool. I'm majestic."
"Hehe…" Hana's laugh was barely audible. "Yeah, yeah, a majestic and chubby prince."
"Don't think I've forgotten about my salmon earlier."
Hana squirmed, laughing. "I already gave it to you! And you didn't even eat it right away."
"Because I was analyzing its quality. And you disturbed the process with your stupid face."
Hana pinched his cheek. "Shhh. Chubby, noisy cat."
Mathien sighed inwardly. But didn't move. He let Hana stroke his head again. And as her shoulders slumped and her breathing slowed, he watched that calm face for a long… long time.
No magic light. No crown. No palace.
Just an ordinary human girl in a small kitchen, in a small house, with a cup of tea and a thin blanket—unaware that she was the sole source of life for a prince from another world.
Mathien took a slow breath.
And that night, without a sound, he swore in his heart.
"I will protect you."
No matter what happens.
And outside, the night kept flowing gently.
The sky hung heavy—not just dark from the rain, but as if wrapped in something deeper. Thick clouds covered the stars, not a single moonlight piercing down to earth. Lanterns in every corner of the village glowed faintly, as if drained of power.
Plants began to wither faster. Leaves lost their green even before the seasons turned. The air shifted, colder, but not the usual cold. This cold bit deeper, quiet, sneaking into small homes without warning.
Villagers began to tire more quickly. Children fell sick more often. The laughter that usually filled the streets in the evenings… was heard less and less.
No one fully realized it.
But slowly, the colors of this village—of this world—were starting to fade.
And above it all, the gray sky lingered. Waiting. Watching.
While in the small house at the edge of the village, under the fading glow of a dying stove, a cat and a human girl still slept. Unaware that their world… was about to change.
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