Chapter 14
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 14
Canna, bullied by Evangeline, was wiping away tears alone in the garden when she heard a rustle in the bushes. Startled, she stood on guard, only for a wounded wolf to appear. This is usually how it goes. The wolf is escaping from family enemies or the threat of slave traders.
The kind-hearted Canna would nurse the wolf back to health. And since she thinks it’s just an animal, she’d probably shower it with physical affection, right? I mean, I’m constantly smothering Pudding with cuddles myself. They would spend time together, the wolf would eventually recover, and Canna would release it back into the wild.
Then, n years later, after she’s all but forgotten, a handsome man returns to repay her kindness. What would his lines be? "You said I was cute back then." Something like that? Suddenly, my romance fantasy excitement was overflowing, and I couldn't contain it.
I stared intently at the wolf. In its current state, it was completely a wolf, so I couldn't tell if its original human form was handsome. If he was good-looking, he was a guaranteed second male lead. Or was Gabriel the second lead and this wolf the main lead? Since this is an older work, maybe it was even a reverse harem. This unexpected development threw me into a state of confusion.
Wait. On top of Gabriel, was I also going down the werewolf route? Once was enough. But twice?
“…Please save me.”
The wolf spoke feebly, its tail tucked between its legs as if terrified. Why did he say "save me" twice? I was momentarily flustered before realizing I had just been staring at the wounded animal without doing anything.
I did feel a little bad. Honestly, I had briefly considered pretending I hadn't seen him and fetching Canna instead.
But it wasn't like I was going to ignore a wounded animal. I was planning to bring Canna here to treat him. I just figured that since his true form was likely human, he could probably endure the pain a little longer.
Still… since he went as far as to beg for his life, just walking away would be a serious blow to my conscience.
“Then come with me.”
When I reached out my hand, the wolf hesitated for a moment before placing its front paw firmly in my palm. Its squishy toe beans felt soft.
I wasn't asking for his paw! I meant for him to transform and take my hand to stand up, since I knew he was human! I wasn't trying to violate his rights or anything.
“What’s your name?”
Still, I graciously accepted the offered paw. I asked for his name while fiddling with the soft pads, but the wolf didn't answer. Did he not have a name? That couldn't be right.
It seemed he was just reluctant to reveal his identity to me. Well, in these stories, they usually don't reveal their true identity to the female lead until much later anyway.
In that case, I’ll just give him a name to use for now. Let’s see. Since he has such cute little beans…
“I’ll call you Jelly.”
The wolf looked dissatisfied but didn't protest. It didn't matter if he disliked it. If he was that offended, he could just tell me his real name.
* * *
I was wondering how I’d carry this heavy guy upstairs, but in the blink of an eye, we were in my room. What? What just happened?
“Did you do this?”
“Yes!” Jelly answered spiritedly.
So, beastkin can use magic here, too. To think the first mage I’d meet in this world would be from another race. Ah. Or are beastkin considered shamans?
But aren't werewolves usually physical brawlers? Where were the sharp claws? Why was he using magic? I felt a bit disgruntled, but then I reflected that this was a rather speciesist way of thinking.
Anyway, I was glad we got up here so easily. Now I had to treat him, but I couldn't tell how bad the wounds were beneath all the fur.
“This is inconvenient. Transform into a human.”
Before I could even blink, Jelly had turned into a man. I thought he’d look sharp and intense, but he surprisingly had a kind face. I was worried he might be naked, but it seemed fantasy logic applied, as he was fully clothed. Even though his clothes were practically rags, it was better than being bare.
Once he was human, his condition looked much worse than I’d thought. I couldn't tell when he was covered in fur, but his entire body was covered in cuts and punctures from something sharp. Had he just come from a sword fight?
I was only planning to give him first aid, but it didn't look like that would be nearly enough. I was debating whether to call a doctor or a priest when Pudding appeared out of nowhere and coughed something up. The ornately carved bottle was familiar.
“Holy water?”
It was holy water. Pudding let out a meow as if to confirm it.
That’s right. We had holy water! I thought we had used it all, but there must have been some left. He probably swiped it from the Count’s room. He brought holy water to treat a friend, not even wary of a strange wolf?
My cat is such a genius. When I stroked his head, Pudding rubbed his face against my hand.
I was melting at Pudding’s cuteness when a sudden, uneasy thought struck me. Until now, I had brushed it off because I didn't think there were beastkin in this setting… but isn't our Pudding a bit too smart for a cat?
No way. It couldn’t be, right? Pudding, please don't tell me you’re a beastkin!
I looked at Pudding anxiously, but he just let out a cute series of meows. It can't be. Come to think of it, Pudding has never spoken human words. Right. If he were a beastkin, would he have endured this long when communication was so difficult?
But a part of me was already convinced Pudding was a beastkin. Dammit! If I had known this was a world with beastkin, I would have kept my distance.
Just in case, I’ll ask Jelly later. For now, I’ll put that aside and deal with the patient in front of me.
Jelly had been cowering in fear ever since Pudding appeared. Was he afraid of cats despite his size? Shouldn't the cat be the one afraid of the wolf?
Pudding, on the contrary, looked triumphant. Was there some kind of hierarchy between them that I didn't know about?
Or maybe he was afraid because Pudding was so small. You know how people with immense strength look at fragile things like baby chicks, terrified they might accidentally crush them. Thinking of it that way, it made a strange kind of sense.
“Drink.”
“Pardon? This?”
It seemed impossible to treat all his external wounds with one small bottle, so I figured drinking it would be more effective.
Jelly acted like a child at the dentist for the first time, whining that he didn't want to because he’d never seen holy water before. I eventually had to use force to pry his mouth open. He didn't even try to push my hand away, as if he were just playing hard to get.
“…You’re mean.”
After I’d poured the holy water down his throat and pulled my hand away, Jelly puffed out his cheeks and mumbled. Who does he think he is, acting all cute with that pout?
What a drama queen. I even fed him holy water, and all I get is resentment. I’m doing this for your own good. I wanted to give him a piece of my mind like a nagging elder, but I held back.
* * *
Night fell over the Rohanson mansion. All the employees had gone home, except for those on night duty.
The night staff’s routine ended only after they had drawn the curtains and extinguished the lights everywhere except for Count Rohanson’s office and the third floor.
The assigned areas rotated, and today it was Olive’s turn to be responsible for the fourth floor. A colleague who had gone up earlier encouraged her, saying it wasn't as scary as she feared and that Lady Evangeline didn't even come out of her room, so she just needed to focus on her work.
Why had her colleagues lied to Olive?
For a while now, the sound of someone gasping in pain had been lingering in her ears. Olive tried her best to ignore it and focus on her task.
She walked down the hallway, relying on the light from her lantern. As she moved forward, extinguishing the lights one by one, the sound grew closer. The groans mingled with the sound of a mass of liquid, writhing. When the noise felt like it was right beside her left ear, Olive slowly turned her head.
To her left, where she had stopped, was Lady Evangeline’s room.
Olive tried hard not to imagine what the sound was and started walking again. After taking a single step, she heard a splash beneath her feet.
When she shone her lantern down, she saw that the liquid leaking from under the door had formed a puddle. Convincing herself that its exceptionally dark red color was just a trick of the lantern light, Olive hurried her pace.
Now that all the lights on the fourth floor were out, her work was done. Olive breathed a sigh of relief and headed for the stairs. It was so dark that a single wrong step could lead to serious injury.
As Olive walked, her eyes fixed on the floor, a pair of shoes entered her vision. Her heart dropped. Startled, she stumbled, barely catching her balance by grabbing the stair railing.
“Are you alright?”
Startled again by the voice that followed, she raised her lantern. In the dim light, she saw the mansion’s uniform. The person seemed to be a maid on night duty, just like her. Olive breathed a sigh of relief.
“I’m sorry. You startled me.”
“That’s because you were only looking at the floor. The night is dangerous, so please be careful.”
The maid covered her mouth with both hands and laughed shyly. The sound of her laughter melted Olive’s tension. She had been so nervous, not expecting to run into anyone. Calming herself, she looked around and saw she was on the landing, just a few steps from the first floor. She really had been out of it.
The maid passed Olive and headed up the stairs as if she had business on an upper floor. Surely she wasn't going to the fourth floor? Olive considered going with her, but the memory of the groans that still seemed to ring in her ears made her swallow her words. No way. She was probably just going to the second floor.
When Olive entered the first-floor office, Lantana, who had been waiting, approached angrily and snatched the lantern away. She placed it on the desk and glared at Olive with sharp eyes.
“Why are you so late? Yours is the last one. I’m exhausted from waiting. I wanted to go home early!”
That couldn't be right. There should still be one person who hadn't returned their lantern. Olive recalled the name tag on the maid’s uniform. Although the embroidery was a mess, it had definitely said Canna.
“Hasn't Canna come back yet?”
“What nonsense are you talking about? You’re the last one. There’s no one named Canna on the night shift today.”
No one? Olive vividly remembered the maid laughing, covering her mouth with both hands.
Both hands? Come to think of it, when that maid passed her, she couldn't recall seeing her carrying a lantern…
“Were you dreaming? Don't say things like that, it’s creepy.”
A dream? Wondering if she really had been dreaming on her feet, Olive checked the soles of her shoes. The sticky traces of whatever she had stepped in remained, clear as day.
She wished it had been a dream. Lantana led the dazed Olive out of the office. Because she had waited for Olive, her shift had ended thirty minutes late.
“I don't know why the butler makes us do such annoying things,” Lantana grumbled, cursing the butler.
Olive felt bad for Lantana, who had waited all this time because of the lantern, but she now realized the instruction to carry one was the butler’s way of being considerate.
The things that wander the Rohanson mansion at night—the ones that aren't human—do not carry lanterns.