Chapter 112
Chapter 112
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 112
Chapter Title: Sleepy Wildcat
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"You okay?"
"Yeah."
"...Doesn't seem like it."
"Yeah."
Cold sweat trickled down Sir Evan's back. The wildcat wasn't angry. He was just... a little off.
"For now..., get some sleep. If anything happens to His Highness, wake me."
Sir Evan decided to put the wildcat to bed first. Maybe he'd be back to normal after waking up.
He clearly hadn't gotten proper rest lately, so his head must've gone funny for a bit.
It was well past bedtime anyway, and His Highness had stabilized, so Sir Evan picked up Nihil and laid him down next to the prince.
But the kid had no intention of sleeping. Instead, he started pinching and prodding at His Highness's cheeks. With no other choice, Sir Evan picked him up again...
"Wildcat..."
"Yeah."
"Wanna pinch more."
"Yeah."
Sir Evan sighed as Nihil toyed with his face, pinching his cheeks and tugging at his hair. No matter what he asked, the answers were only "yeah" or "why."
Watching Nihil stretch his own cheeks wide and respond on reflex, Sir Evan felt like crying.
What the hell was wrong with the kid?! Was it the 'overdose'? A curse? A talisman? It wouldn't be permanent, right?
Whatever the cause, he just wished the boy would sleep quietly before his cheeks were ruined for good!
He couldn't set him down on the bed—the kid would just crawl over to His Highness and start pawing at his face again. Leaving him alone in that bleak, chilly room crossed his mind, but Sir Evan knew it'd nag at him endlessly.
His cheeks and scalp were starting to sting, so he began rummaging through the room for something else to distract Nihil's hands.
First, he handed him a cube made of dice, each row rotatable a full 360 degrees. The boy played with it for quite a while, twisting it this way and that. There was no sign of him trying to match the colors, so Sir Evan let out a relieved sigh, thinking he'd finally get a break.
But his big mouth always got him in trouble.
"So, when are you gonna match all the colors? Try getting one side at least."
He'd mocked the boy like that. But he shouldn't have said anything. He hadn't realized the kid was just fiddling with it for fun, not actually trying to solve it.
Only realizing the proper way to play too late, Nihil matched every side perfectly in mere seconds and handed the cube back to Sir Evan.
Sir Evan took it with trembling hands, scrambled it messily, and gave it back. But no matter how thoroughly he mixed it, the cube was solved again in seconds and returned to him.
"...Wildcat, wanna do something else?"
"Yeah."
Sick of endlessly scrambling the cube, Sir Evan tossed it aside, scooped up Nihil, and resumed wandering the room in search of toys. There were several strategic board games like chess, but he skipped them since he didn't know how to play.
He spotted the puppy—Robert Lewis de Almond II or whatever—sleeping belly-up, nice and plump. He considered handing it over, but seeing how Nihil had immediately gone back to tormenting his face after the cube, he passed. He'd end up witnessing animal abuse.
'...Wait, isn't this already animal abuse?'
The kid always called him "woof-woof," so it was basically puppy abuse at this point. The poor woof-woof was on the verge of losing all its fur and having its cheeks stretched to oblivion.
"Wildcat, you're not bullying the woof-woof, right?"
"......"
When he said it with mock seriousness, Nihil—who'd been about to yank out a fistful of hair—froze and stared blankly at Sir Evan.
That confirmed it. The kid really did see him as a "woof-woof."
Evidently not wanting to bully the puppy, the wildcat climbed down from his arms and picked up the discarded cube. Then he just kept solving and scrambling it by himself.
Sir Evan felt a brief wave of relief at being free of Nihil's grasp, but after watching him repeat the same action for dozens of minutes, worry crept in.
It was well past midnight, and in the dark room lit only by a single candle, the sight of him solving the cube alone was eerie and heartbreaking. On top of that, perhaps to avoid bullying the "woof-woof," he didn't approach or bother Sir Evan anymore.
"Wildcat."
"......Yeah."
His response came slowly, too focused on the cube.
"You should sleep too. It's too late. Look, it's past 1 a.m."
"......"
"Good wildcats go to bed early. Even accounting for how naughty you are, shouldn't it be by midnight?"
"......"
"Wildcat?"
No reply even to the joke, so Sir Evan called out carefully again. After a long pause, a faint, mumbled "yeah" came out. Then his stiffly upright white head lolled forward, and the cube slipped from his hand with a clack onto the floor.
"You, what're you—?!"
Catching Nihil's head on reflex, Sir Evan quickly checked him over. The boy's eyes were a bit unfocused, but the moment he saw Sir Evan, he reached up and started pinching his cheeks again.
His hair got grabbed too in the process, but there was no strength behind it—no risk of losing any strands.
"......?"
Sir Evan ventured carefully, half-disbelieving.
"You... sleepy...?"
Blink. Blink.
No verbal reply—just his heavy-lidded eyes blinking slowly open and shut.
Sir Evan laughed in hollow disbelief.
"If you're sleepy, then go to sleep!"
"......"
"You're not some newborn..., what, bedtime tantrum...?"
If this was a tantrum, it was unacceptable. Good thing it wasn't some overdose side effect, but if all the torment so far was just from sleepiness, that was too unfair.
He couldn't even get revenge for the plucked hairs.
"For now..., sleep."
Saying so, Sir Evan tried to lay Nihil on the bed. But for some reason, the boy clutched tightly at his clothes and wouldn't let go.
"Hey, hey, you're stretching my clothes."
"......No."
"No what? Go to sleep already."
"No."
"You're driving me insane."
"Yeah."
"......"
What was this? Was he just supposed to lose his mind? He wasn't seriously going to wrestle with this kid all night, was he?
"Why won't you sleep?"
"......"
"You only say whatever you feel like."
"......"
"Sleep, please!"
"Later."
"Later when?"
"......1:27."
1:27? What was with the precise time?
Sir Evan glanced at the clock. It was exactly 1:07—still 20 minutes left.
"You sleep at 27?"
"......Yeah."
"Haa..."
With no choice, Sir Evan resigned himself to being a toy for the remaining 20 minutes. His half-curly hair had been fiddled with so much it was matted into a bird's nest. The kind a real bird might mistake for home and fly into.
Even while tormenting him like that, the boy nodded off several times. Forcing himself to stay awake was downright pitiful.
"Wildcat, time's up. Now sleep."
The moment 1:27 hit, Sir Evan laid Nihil on the bed. But he immediately sat back up and reached for His Highness, so Sir Evan smacked the back of his hand.
"You said you'd sleep. No bothering His Highness—go to sleep."
Nihil stared at his slightly reddened hand, then at Sir Evan's face. Then he turned back to Lianus, pressed a kiss to the bridge of his nose, and flopped over fast asleep.
Sir Evan, who'd witnessed the surprise smooch, stood there dumbfounded before finally grasping what happened and twisting his face in dismay.
"......Damn wildcat."
Wide awake.
Waking up, Lianus wondered if it was dawn or evening. His memories were fuzzy, but he'd started napping right after violin lessons ended, not long ago, so it was probably evening. So why did it feel like dawn?
He wasn't hungry, but he needed to make sure his dear friend got dinner, so he sat up. His dear friend was sleeping like the dead right beside him.
Sorry, Nihil, but whenever he saw the boy sleeping, Lianus always felt an urge to wake him. It felt like if he didn't, he'd sleep forever.
As Lianus stirred, a large shadow rose from the sofa. It was Sir Evan, who'd been dozing.
"Sir Evan."
"Did you cough, Your Highness?"
"Yeah, but what's with your hair?"
Lianus eyed Sir Evan's bird's-nest hair dubiously. Sir Evan shot a glare at the soundly sleeping Nihil, muttered it was nothing, and struck his heels together sharply, aiming to heat the kettle.
Beside the kettle was a tool—tongs with heat stones clamped at the tips, probably for easy heating—but it looked so sloppily attached that it seemed shoddy. Wanting to try igniting it without the tool anyway, that's what he'd done.
But his brief mockery of the crude tool was short-lived. He soon realized just how impressive Nihil was and ended up borrowing the tool's power after taking an emotional hit.
Steam rose quickly from the kettle.
"Heat stones are convenient, huh."
"Yeah, they are."
Lianus stared blankly at the boiling tea water before asking Sir Evan,
"Sir Evan, what time is it?"
"Not even 5 yet. You can sleep more."
"Evening...?"
"No. Dawn."
"How long did I sleep?"
"About 13 hours. You woke up midway yesterday for dinner and medicine—don't you remember?"
"Uh..., no, I don't."
Sir Evan continued as he prepared the tea.
"You had a fever fluctuating all night. Even if you don't feel sick, your condition won't be great."
"Really?"
Lianus took the teacup Sir Evan offered and touched his own forehead. He couldn't tell if he had a fever. He sipped the tea instead—and frowned. The taste was off.
"Sir Evan, is this medicine tea?"
"Pardon? No, just regular black tea."
"......"
"What's wrong?"
"...I'll brew next time."
Lianus thought to himself: My knight's strong and handsome, but he really can't make tea.
"...Is it that bad?"
Sir Evan mumbled awkwardly that the wildcat had drunk it fine. Come to think of it, the kid ate coal cookies without complaint, so of course he wouldn't fuss over slightly botched tea.
"What about morning swordsmanship class?"
"Hmm..."
Normally, Lianus would've gone without hesitation, but thinking Nihil might still be recovering from the 'overdose,' he shook his head.
"I'll skip swordsmanship. I'm not sick, so I don't really know how I am."
"Wise choice. Afternoon classes as scheduled?"
"Yeah. Handle it."
"Then, I'll step out briefly. Shall I call the servants?"
"No need. I'm fine—go ahead. On your way back..., uh, tidy your hair a bit..."
"......Yes, sir."
Sir Evan awkwardly patted down his messy hair with his palm and left the room.
Lianus drained the not-so-tasty black tea and flopped back down beside Nihil. His friend was still sleeping soundly, tempting him to doze off again, but having slept too much, his mind was wide awake.
Lianus poked Nihil's cheek, touched his snowy-white hair and lashes, inspected the palm where the wound had healed clean. Then a faint squeak drew his attention—he turned to see 'Robert Lewis de Almond II' whimpering.