The Half-Seal Doesn't Want to Live with the Princess and the Grand Duchess (1)
The letter in question arrived that afternoon: a single envelope the villa's butler brought in upon a silver tray.
The wax bore the seal crest of the Grolent ducal house — his father's own hand. In other words, a letter written personally by the head of the family.
While Nox's fingers picked the seal apart, two pairs of eyes pressed in from either side. Elena leaned over his shoulder; from the opposite direction, Calien tilted her head. It was precisely the posture of two cats looking down from above.
The letter read as follows. Duke Grolent's hand was, as ever, round and unhurried.
To Nox.
Son. Yesterday, and the day before that, I received letters from Her Imperial Highness the Princess and from the Grand Duchess.
Both of them wished to stay at our family's villa, and of course I approved. When such precious persons of the imperial house and the grand ducal house cherish our boy, what greater honor could there be?
Oh — and while you're at it, try to get over that predator trauma of yours. It pains your old man to watch you jump every time you so much as look at a carnivorous beastman, and I think this is a fine opportunity.
They're both from excellent houses, so don't fret, and look after them properly. I'll send extra for the villa's upkeep. Ah, and I've ordered plenty of fish.
— Your father
The hand holding the letter trembled like an aspen.
"......A letter? Father gave his permission? They're staying at the villa?! What is all of this..."
Elena's tail swayed left and right in pure triumph, a bright smile baring her canines.
"Fast letter, right? I sent a courier yesterday."
"I sent mine the day before."
At Calien's flat remark, Elena's ears pricked — then folded sharp.
"....You dare say you were a day faster than I was?"
"I sent it before you even thought of coming here."
Elena's red eyes narrowed to a dangerous slit. Calien gazed out the window as if she felt nothing at all. Only her snow-leopard tail moved, slow and side to side — an unmistakable signal of self-satisfaction.
Nox set the letter on the table and pressed the back of his hand to his forehead.
"No... when on earth did the two of you decide to write my father a letter like this?"
"If you're going to the house of someone you like, you get permission first."
"Asking the head of the house before you stay in someone else's home is simple courtesy."
The instant the two predators' answers locked together without a seam, the world in front of Nox went dim.
So the whole truth of this wasn't about me at all. They went after my father first and wrung visitation rights out of him...!?
How is this possible. This is betrayal.
My dad sold me out!
"Overcome my trauma? Don't be ridiculous..."
If it were something I could fix that easily, I'd have fixed it ages ago. Aigoo, I could tear my hair out.
Nox's voice climbed an octave. Elena leaned forward and peered into his face, close enough that a single fist would have filled the gap.
"Don't worry. Your father asked something of me, too, so while I'm staying here, I'll get you used to it. Slowly."
Warm breath touched Nox's forehead. The red eyes showing through the golden mane were softer than they had ever been. His heart pounded in a rhythm he could not sort into fear or into something else, and his limbs locked stiff. Is this how a mouse feels in front of a snake? It was fear. Unmistakably.
Calien took one step closer from the other side. Cold fingertips settled over the back of his trembling hand.
"My temperature runs low. It should feel less like a predator, so grow accustomed to me first."
"No, Your Grace, that doesn't follow at all—"
Elena struck Calien's hand aside with a sharp smack. A forepaw swipe — the reflex of a cat throwing a punch.
"Don't make me laugh! Cold is a selling point? Warm is better! Nox, take my hand. It's warm."
Two hands reached for him at once. Warmth, and cold. Nox gathered both of his own to his chest and drew them back.
Not a chance. He was caught at once. Fingers laced through both of his hands, and Nox let out a shrill scream and fainted dead away.
And so—
The empire's two greatest predators took up residence in two guest rooms on the second floor of the Grolent Ducal Villa. Nox's peaceful life as a dropout at leisure shattered four days into his leave.
Crash.
That day, Nox's world came down.
The first morning of living together began with the half-seal's scream.
Nox opened his bedroom door, and Calien was standing in the hall — back to the wall, arms folded, in her nightclothes. The snow leopard's ears flicked straight toward him.
"You're awake."
A current ran down Nox's spine.
"Y-Your Grace!? Why are you outside my door!?"
"Trauma-overcoming training. We repeat it until you can open your eyes in the morning, see a predator at once, and not startle. Every day, from now on."
Calien meant it. There was not a shadow of a joke in those pale eyes.
"I-I understand this is your idea of treatment, Your Grace, but isn't the method a little extreme—!"
"Oh? You actually want the truly extreme version?"
"I am deeply grateful for Your Grace's kind consideration."
What a spectacular about-face.
Nox folded at the waist in a full ninety-degree bow. This one, at least, was sincere.
The villa's breakfast table had once been a quiet place that began with Nox alone, one cup of tea and a single piece of bread.
That quiet was torn apart without mercy on the second day they lived together.
What Elena set upon the plate was a roast mountain hare she had hunted herself. Morning sun spilled through the strands of gold, and the lion's red eyes shone with confidence.
"The first step of overcoming trauma is sharing a table with a predator. Here. I caught it, so eat without worrying."
"Your Highness, fish is more than enough for me—"
Before he could finish, Calien lifted a lid from the opposite side. Steamed fish, steam curling up in soft threads — precisely the white-fleshed fish Nox favored.
"Sea bass. The kind you like. I caught it at dawn, so I can vouch for the freshness."
"Your Grace caught it yourself?!"
"I went into the lake and came back out."
Elena's eyes narrowed.
"Then I'll catch fish tomorrow, too."
"Your Highness hates the water."
The observation left Elena without a reply. It stung.
"That's mean."
She tapped the back of Nox's head in play. It was the same force as a lion cutely batting a ball with her forepaw — and a lion's forepaw can snap the spine of a zebra at a run.
Thud!
Nox pitched forward as he was, and his face planted itself in the salad plate.
Hnngh.
The third day of living together.
Elena attached herself to Nox's left as he set out for a morning walk, her golden mane blazing in the morning light.
"Nox, hold my arm."
"Why."
"This is trauma training, too. Getting used to a predator's arm."
Nox's stride slowed by half a beat.
"Your Highness, that isn't trauma therapy. That's linking arms."
Elena's lion ears folded with perfect innocence.
"Isn't it basically the same?"
"In what way."
In that moment a cold wind came from behind. Calien drew up on Nox's right, and the snow leopard's plush tail brushed, quite naturally, across the small of his back. Goosebumps rose. He shoved it away in a hurry, hands shaking. Huh...? The feel of it is... better than I thought. No. No!
"Your Grace, your tail is touching my waist."
"This, too, is adaptation training."
Pinned between the two kinds of body heat closing in from left and right, Nox let out a short sigh.
Two predators have me boxed in on both sides. I've lost my mind.
Fear had him trembling, a long, thin chill, as if an autumn wind had found him.
One week into living together. Evening.
Nox was reading in the library. Into a room where only the turn of pages sounded, something heavy came down on the desk with a thunk.
He looked up. Elena stood with her arms crossed, and on the desk sat a fine box engraved with the imperial crest.
"...What is this."
"A cashmere blanket. It feels like my mane. Get used to this first, and later you'll be able to touch the real thing."
Nox's hand stopped on the page. Wait. What?
"Your Highness, don't tell me you're asking me to touch your—"
The library door opened. Calien came in, five boxes in her arms.
"I prepared blankets as well."
"Five of them!?"
Calien set the boxes down one by one and spoke as if it were nothing.
"Sorted by thickness. Begin with the thin ones and work up to the thick. By the end, being held in my arms won't frighten you either."
"Why do both of your conversations always slide in that direction."
Elena's red eyes swept the five boxes.
"You always overdo it."
"Better than too little."
The two predators' gazes struck each other in empty air.
The wretched little half-seal simply curled smaller and smaller.
The law of nature, in a filthy food chain. Honestly.
Father, if you're watching me — give me the answer...!