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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 10
Chapter Title: Fussing Over the Prince
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Sir Evan had been in a complete frenzy from the previous night straight through until dawn. He visited the kitchen to ensure no stimulating foods made it onto the breakfast menu—only thin, soft dishes were allowed—and he'd even gathered ample supplies of various medicines just in case the fever spiked again.
And if that wasn't enough, he stuffed so much firewood into the fireplace that it seemed overkill, then poked at it relentlessly with the poker to make sure the flames wouldn't die out.
Thanks to him, the fire blazed with enough vigor to last a lifetime.
"You're driving me crazy!"
Unable to take it anymore, Nihil hurled the pillow he'd been using right at Evan, who was bustling around the bedroom like a man possessed.
After exchanging a few words with Evan overnight, Nihil had unwittingly slipped back into his old-man grumbling tone without realizing it.
Evan snatched the incoming pillow midair with one hand, then hissed in a lowered voice—but it was still a full-on yell.
"How can you sleep with His Highness the sick prince right beside you!"
"The fever's gone down, so there's no problem. Quit making a fuss and just sit still for once."
Sure enough, thanks to that ferret fetching medicine right after the prince fell asleep, the fever hadn't risen too high. What His Highness needed now was plenty of rest.
Regaining just a sliver of his senses, Evan clutched Nihil's pillow to his chest and flopped onto the sofa.
The prince's fever had been unavoidable. After the ordeal at the duke's mansion, he'd been mentally exhausted, and then getting pelted by sleet on top of crying his eyes out—who wouldn't come down with a fever?
His Highness, with his frail constitution, always suffered for days once he fell ill: two at the shortest, a full week at the longest. Just thinking about how long this bout would last filled Evan with mountains of worry.
"Give me back my pillow."
...Damn that ferret. He wouldn't even give him time to brood.
Evan glared at Nihil as he tossed the pillow back, then lay down on the sofa. He'd done everything he could for now. All that remained was notifying the princes' instructors of His Highness's absence once the sun rose.
Normally, he'd leave it to the butler, but right now, he couldn't afford to let word slip that the prince was ill. And the reason for that was the damn ferret lurking nearby. But honestly, there was an even bigger issue.
The princes' lessons.
His Majesty had arranged for the 1st Prince and 2nd Prince—who were the same age—to receive identical education from the same teachers, insisting there be no discrimination in their learning. As a result, their sweet, tender-hearted prince had to face the 1st Prince constantly. Especially under the swordsmanship instructor, Tesaurus Duke, whose favoritism was blatant—His Highness had shed so many secret tears no one could count them.
The prince, who fell ill so often, already struggled to keep up with lessons, but he'd poured in so much effort just to avoid falling behind. There had even been a time he'd attended class despite being sick and collapsed on the way back.
Even if the prince missed class due to illness, the lessons marched on without pause. There was no such thing as adjusting the curriculum for a single absence in a joint class.
And that 1st Prince brat, born prematurely, was ridiculously sturdy—not a single sick day. His tongue was sly as a fox, too; whenever Evan, fed up with the subtle bullying, suggested splitting classes, the prince would wheedle His Highness out of it with clever excuses.
If he fell behind in lessons this time, it would only deepen their baby kitten prince's anguish.
His head throbbing from these swirling thoughts, Evan yanked at his own hair in frustration.
A few unfortunate strands of ash-brown hair couldn't withstand the force and came out tangled in his fingers, but their owner callously shook them off and rolled over.
He could see the prince's bed.
That damn ferret was probably sleeping comfortably inside the canopy.
Thinking of him reignited Evan's fury. Then, a brilliantly devious idea flashed through his mind—one that could turn the ferret to his advantage.
What if he used the ferret as bait? The prince might finally agree to separate classes.
"Don't you want to take lessons with your ferret friend? Studying with a close companion would be more fun. But a commoner can't join the 1st Prince's class, so you'd need to split up."
Perfect.
Evan was so proud of himself for coming up with it that he nearly patted his own back.
The ferret had to earn his keep, right? After devouring all that meat. And here he was, offering free access to the princes' elite education—who could refuse?
Their kitten prince, so fixated on that ferret, would jump at the chance without a second thought.
Having an undereducated, dim-witted ferret—surely dumber than the prince—sitting beside him would slowly rebuild His Highness's confidence.
With that settled, Evan sprang up from the sofa and murmured to wake Nihil, who had likely drifted off again.
"Hey, ferret."
"...It's been less than ten minutes since you shut up. Are you insane?"
Evan bristled.
The sharp rebuke, devoid of any sleepiness, made him want to lunge over, grab the ferret by the scruff, and shake him like a lunatic—but since he needed to use the guy, Evan magnanimously decided to forgive him this once.
"You—take classes with His Highness."
"No."
The refusal shot out without even a 0.1-second hesitation.
Come on, shouldn't a person at least hear you out when you ask?
He'd coldly rejected their cute, lovable prince's friendship offer, too. Clearly, the one with issues wasn't Evan—it was that damn ferret!
In truth, Nihil had refused purely because Evan's tone grated on him, without even considering the content. But Evan, whose "request" sounded more like an order, had no clue what he'd done wrong.
Evan just sighed, his head aching at the thought of persuading this feral creature. Was getting the prince into separate classes always this tough?
Ah, how to make him earn his keep?
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Nihil furrowed his brow.
His head was starting to throb. Sleep was the only way to recover, but being in an unfamiliar place with unfamiliar people had his senses on high alert—he couldn't drift off at all.
And the guard dog was partly to blame for his sleeplessness. He'd finally gone quiet, so Nihil thought the barking had stopped, but it started up again before long.
Stuff like "Who do you think you are to refuse?" or "Anything you learn can be useful," or "This chance won't come again," and even down to "Just sit there and occupy a seat."
Not caring to hear the details—none of which he wanted—Nihil buried his face in the bed, pulled the covers over his head, and clamped his ears shut.
The guard dog's yapping droned on for a good while after that, and in the meantime, the sun began to rise.
After a night of restless tossing from all the bustling footsteps and barking, Nihil glared at the rising sun, irritation surging.
So he made a vow.
Whatever scheme that guard dog was up to, he absolutely wouldn't give him what he wanted.
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Everything was dark and hazy.
Lianus barely clung to his foggy consciousness. Then, spotting black opal eyes gleaming with a mystical hue directed at him, he cautiously called out to their owner.
'Nil...?'
His ears rang dully, making even his own voice hard to hear. Or perhaps no voice had come out at all, Lianus thought.
He'd definitely been having a nightmare just moments ago, but staring into those jewel-like eyes, he couldn't recall a thing. The harder he tried to remember, the sharper the image before him became.
Snowy-white lashes fluttered a few times. White should have softened his impression, but against the surrounding darkness, they kept drawing the eye.
They'd only become friends recently, yet he was already appearing in dreams. It must mean Lianus really liked Nihil, he thought with a beaming smile.
Everything else blurred, but that gem shone vividly—surely a sign this was a wonderful dream, Lianus decided.
Later, he should gift Nihil a black opal mimicking his eyes.
Earrings or a hair ornament would suit him. Against that snow-white hair, it would sparkle even brighter.
His friend in the dream said nothing. Then, something warm trickled into his mouth. Parched, Lianus swallowed it greedily without thinking.
Suddenly, the black opal vanished from view.
As disappointment welled up at the dream's end, the radiant gem popped back into sight.
Lianus smiled unwittingly at its return. Then he felt something tapping his lower lip.
"Ah, it's open."
A flat voice reached him.
Ah, my voice barely registers, yet yours rings so clear.
Only then did Lianus realize this wasn't a dream. Warm soup flowed between his slightly parted lips. Thinner and blander than usual.
When did he prepare this? Would there be enough breakfast left for Nihil? He'd vowed just last night to ensure every meal treated him properly, yet here he was with mere thin soup.
He'd planned to seek His Majesty's permission for Nihil today, but now he'd be stuck hiding in this room because of him. Still, the annex was spacious enough—it should be fine. He'd have Sir Evan fetch some toys.
If his friend felt lonely, he could lend him Poofu. Holding the soft, fluffy bear eased loneliness a bit.
Since he'd used it so much himself, it was fine to yield it this time.
At that moment, something soft and plush slipped into his arms. He tried to guess what it was, but repeated sips of warm soup distracted him, and he forgot to think. The soup was tasteless compared to usual, but somehow delicious.
Lianus recalled his friend claiming he hated attending others. No, this wasn't attendance. You, so haughty and arrogant you'd tell status differences to shove it—why would you serve a mere prince?
You must have been roped in somehow, yet it feels like I've been chosen. Surely no illusion.
The final spoonful of soup entered his mouth. It tasted off.
A bitter tang stung his tongue, wrinkling his face instinctively.
The moment he tried to tell Nihil the soup was strange—too bitter—
"Now sleep again."
He couldn't speak.
No other sounds reached him, yet your voice echoed like divine revelation in his ears. Gazing into those black eyes emitting a subtle glow, he felt compelled to lie back down and sleep.
Sleep? Yes, if my friend says so, I should.
The bitterness lingered, making sleep seem impossible, but against his worries, consciousness swiftly faded once more.