"He didn't bite me."
I had worried he might bite again or run away, but this time, he accepted my touch without much fuss.
Somehow, it felt like we had grown a little closer.
As I stroked Duren's small, delicate back, a line of dialogue drifted through my mind.
It was from the original story—when Vera insisted Duren was like a puppy, one young lady chimed in with this:
[Now that you mention it, I saw it too! Ears like a dog appeared on his head. And even a fluffy tail!]
'No way, how could ears sprout on a person's head?'
It was an impossible thing.
At the time, I had assumed she lied just to win Vera's favor.
But right now, before Estelle's eyes, that impossible thing was happening.
'…What the heck, are those dog-like ears?'
At some point, a pair of triangular, folded ears had appeared on top of Duren's head.
And that wasn't all.
From his lower back swayed a fluffy black tail, gently flicking from side to side.
Estelle blinked.
But Duren's ears and tail did not vanish.
He was, without a doubt—like a puppy.
After Duren finished his meal, Estelle carried the empty bowl out.
The first to greet her was Pippin.
"My lady, did you succeed?"
His face was tense with anxiety as he asked.
"Of course. Naturally."
Estelle nodded and held out the dish, now spotless as if freshly washed.
"Good heavens."
Pippin's eyes welled with tears, worn thin from all the worry.
But as Estelle looked at his overwhelmed face, she couldn't help but bring up something that would dampen the mood.
"But for now, giving him a proper bath is impossible. I think it'll take a day or two more."
"A day or two?"
"Yes… is that too long?"
But this really was the best she could do.
When Estelle's voice wavered with unease, Pippin hurriedly shook his head.
"Not at all! I was only surprised because that's far too short!"
The servants had spent weeks trying to coax Duren, yet hadn't managed to so much as touch a single strand of his hair.
And yet, Estelle—who hadn't even known him for a full day—had already succeeded in getting him to eat bread.
If the staff, who had grown more worried with each passing day, heard of this, they would surely be overjoyed.
"But he's still very wary, so for now, I plan to keep looking after his meals myself. I'll need to stop by the main manor's kitchen every day—will that be all right?"
"Of course! You may come and go from the manor as you please!"
There had been a standing order from Lennox not to allow Estelle into the manor unless necessary, but Pippin disregarded it without hesitation.
Lennox had suddenly brought a child, claiming him as his son, only to neglect him afterward—while Estelle had taken it upon herself to care for the boy.
Between the two, Pippin knew whose side he wished to take.
"By the way, my lady… did the young master really eat those cookies you baked with that mold? If so, you needn't trouble yourself—just have the head chef prepare them instead—"
Hearing that, Estelle gave a hollow laugh.
"The cookie-cutter plan was a complete failure."
"…Eh?"
"I wasn't interested, really."
Any ordinary child might have been curious, but Duren was no ordinary child.
"And yet you succeeded? Remarkable, my lady!"
What clever trick had she used?
Pippin's eyes shone with admiration, his respect for Estelle growing even deeper.
But when Estelle found herself under the weight of that intense gaze, she quickly changed the subject, asking something that had been on her mind for a while.
"By the way… is Duren truly the child's original name?"
"No, it was given by the duke."
No wonder he hadn't responded even when she kept calling his name. She had thought it strange—but it turned out not to be his original name at all.
"In order to prepare the adoption papers, a name was needed. At that time, His Grace personally asked him."
[What is your name?]
Back then, Duren had just been through another round of being scrubbed down, utterly exhausted.
Fortunately, he still had enough strength left to mumble a faint whisper in reply.
Du… du…]
[Dudu? Is that some sort of nickname?]
The hesitation was brief, the decision swift.
Lennox informed Pippin:
[The child's name shall be Duren.]
[Eh? But just now, didn't he say "Du," not "Dyu"?]
[Same difference. Dudu, Dyudy—what does it matter?]
*[…] *
[Once he becomes a member of Winterren, he'll live a new life. Giving him a new name is only proper.]
Pippin had endured many baffling moments while serving under Lennox, but never before had he felt as dumbfounded as he did then.
It was so absurd that he could recall every word of that exchange without a single slip.
"'Dyu' must have come from the child's own utterance, and 'ren' was likely taken from Winterren."
"Most likely."
Inwardly, Pippin thought, What a terrible sense of naming.
"Then… what is Duren's original name?"
"I don't know."
"What do you mean, you don't know?"
"I looked into it, but found no clues whatsoever. The child won't tell me either, so we have no way of knowing. For now, he's simply called Duren."
Hearing that, Estelle fell into thought—then finally voiced the question that had been circling in her head.
"Is Duren… a beastkin?"
"…Excuse me?"
Pippin's eyes went wide, as though wondering what on earth she was talking about.
Caught off guard by his reaction, Estelle hurried to elaborate.
"You know those old stories—about the 'beastkin,' a race that was half-human, half-animal? I wondered if maybe Duren was a puppy beastkin, since he seems like a mix between a child and a dog…"
"Beastkin, you say?!"
"…."
"Such beings actually exist?!"
"Y-yes! That's what it seemed like to me!"
Pippin cried out in shock, as if he had never heard the word before.
Flustered, Estelle raised her voice in reply without thinking.
She had expected Pippin to know something about it—yet in the end, she was the only one left startled.
"Well, this is the first I've heard of it. May I ask why you thought that in the first place?"
"I only suspected it because his behavior seemed closer to that of a puppy than a human. But while feeding him, I actually saw ears and a tail appear—like a dog's."
"Ears and a tail… appeared?"
"Yes. They vanished once the meal was over, but they were definitely there. I don't have any proof right now, but I can swear I'm not lying."
"There's no need to swear. I believe you. My lady has no reason to tell such a far-fetched lie."
Up until now, he had thought it was simply a matter of the child struggling to adapt to a sudden change in environment.
But after hearing Estelle's explanation, all those vague oddities began to click into place.
"I've never heard of beastkin existing anywhere. And when His Grace brought the young master, he said nothing of the sort."
"..."
"The surest way would be to have a physician examine his condition… but—"
Duren only allowed Estelle near him. Calling a doctor would be useless.
"I'll do my best to grow closer to Duren as quickly as I can."
"My lady…"
How could someone like this exist in reality? She was nothing short of an angel.
"There is truly no one like you, my lady."
With his nose stinging, Pippin made up his mind.
"Then I shall also ask His Grace directly if there are any… peculiarities about the child."
And while he was at it, he resolved to include a few pointed words of reproach toward Lennox in the letter.
One day, Duren opened his eyes and found himself in an unfamiliar place.
It was so dazzlingly bright that it hurt his eyes.
As he sat there bewildered, strangers began to approach.
Scary.
Who were they, and why were they trying to touch him?
Trembling with fear, Duren slipped away and hid himself in the shadows.
Grandma, where did you go?
Grandma, I miss you.
"Grandma…"
Tears welled up and spilled over.
But his grandmother never returned.
Instead, as he sat in the darkness crying and waiting for her, those unfamiliar people kept drawing near.
[The young master will be formally entered into the Winterren ducal house.]
Winterren? Entered? What does that even mean?
[It pains me to say this, but your other family members must have perished. Not only your family, but no living beings remain in that region. It would be best to begin preparing your heart…]
What nonsense was that?
For Duren, family meant only his grandmother. And they were saying his grandmother was dead?
Impossible.
He wanted to see her so badly, yet these strangers kept trying to touch him.
[Young master, you need to change clothes!]
[It is time for lunch. If there is anything you dislike, please feel free to say so.]
[You really must bathe soon…]
He ran away from their grasping hands, refusing to let them touch him. If they tried, he would snap and bite.
But—there was one person who was different.
At first, he had been just as wary of her as he was of the others.
But then—
[Freshly baked bread, still warm, soft, chewy, and fluffy—my bread!]
[No one's going to take it from you, so you can eat slowly.]
She always shared delicious things with him, and her gentle hand as she patted him was so kind—it reminded him of Grandma.
A good person.
And she was even pretty, too.
Though it was strange how she kept calling for "Duren," as if searching for someone by that name.
One day, that person crouched down to meet his eyes and said:
"Duren."
Am I Duren?
But… I'm not Duren.
"Duren, what was your original name?"
Name?
Not knowing what a name was, he only blinked at her.
"It means… what did people call you?"
If that was all, then it was simple.
"My…"
Searching his memory, Duren opened his mouth.
"My baby."
"Cute. Pretty."
"Our puppy. Our baby."
"..."
"Dudu."
"..."
"There were so many."
That's what people would call him while looking at him.
"Oh! There was also 'Oh my, oh my!'"