Syl Argent
"Pleased to meet you, little fox girl. My name is Syl Argent."
The moment that name reached her ears, Piel's heart sank with a thud.
Syl Argent.
One of the four official heirs of the Argent Family whom Lucas had repeatedly emphasized to avoid encountering at all costs if possible.
Among them, the one he'd called especially dangerous.
Piel's ears instinctively perked up straight, and every strand of fur on her tail bristled.
'Oh no...!'
But something was off.
According to her master, the official heirs of the Argent Family were monsters devoid of both blood and tears, yet the blonde girl before her eyes... looked like a princess straight out of a picture book.
Her golden blonde hair sparkled in the sunlight, her eyes were a deep sapphire blue, and even the blue rose pin was delicately pinned in place.
Her outfit was an extravagant dress that screamed "ballroom exclusive."
And yet she moved with such grace that her feet barely seemed to touch the ground, her expression always smiling, her tone transparently kind.
"These ears are so cute... your cheeks are so soft... oh, the tail's alive too?"
At first, Piel had been startled by the sudden face-squishing, but even now, Syl was just peering at her with an excited face, like she desperately wanted to be friends.
A noble lady using polite speech even with a slave like her.
Could this person really be a "bad person"?
It was impossible to comprehend.
She even wondered if her master had exaggerated.
Piel hugged the tray tightly to her chest and tilted her head slightly in thought.
'Maybe... master misunderstood something?'
It was then.
"Fox girl?"
"Y-yes!"
"Hehe. With that cute little mouth of yours... could you introduce yourself to me? I think it'd be even better to hear it straight from you."
Syl Argent didn't so much as flinch at the sight of the slave collar.
She asked for Piel's name with perfect courtesy, as if speaking to a friend she'd just met for the first time.
Piel swallowed hard for a moment.
But she soon realized this was her chance.
Lucas's first slave.
The perfect moment to show just how outstanding the slave her master had raised was!
Her master had never taught her etiquette, and he'd often said she could live comfortably, practically leaving her to her own devices.
But Piel hated that.
It felt like a burden.
How could she tarnish her master's reputation as his one and only slave—the man who had saved her, cleaned her, fed her, and made her laugh?
So Piel had secretly pored over etiquette books every dawn and mastered the basic greetings of a noble maid.
And now, she poured everything into it, offering a graceful greeting despite her small frame.
"Pleased to meet you, Lady Syl Argent. My name is Piel. I am the maid serving Young Master Lucas Argent."
"Oh my... oh my my my!"
One foot elegantly crossed behind the other, she lightly lifted the hem of her skirt with both hands and bowed softly at the waist.
Syl's eyes sparkled like fireworks the instant Piel finished her greeting.
Before Piel could even straighten up, she rushed forward and enveloped the fox girl of her own age in a hug.
"What do I do! There's such a cute child in our house?! You're too pretty!"
"E-eek...?!"
Syl's embrace was warm.
No, warm didn't even begin to cover it—it was an obsessively tight hold.
Like she was desperately clutching a treasure she'd just discovered, determined not to let anyone take it away.
It would be a lie to say it wasn't overwhelming.
But instead, a small spark of joy bloomed in Piel's heart.
'My first greeting... it worked! I saved master's face, right?!'
With that thought, Piel let out a small laugh while nestled in Syl's arms and accepted the hug.
And then—
She caught sight of the people standing behind Syl over her shoulder, and her mind went blank.
All of them wore slave collars... but instead of ragged slave scraps, they were dressed in fancy gowns like Syl's.
They looked every bit the noble ladies from head to toe, yet identical iron collars to Piel's gleamed around their necks.
'Huh? If they're wearing slave collars, they must be captives like me... but why are they all in such pretty dresses?'
Syl burst into giggles upon seeing Piel's dumbfounded expression.
"Aha! Piel must have noticed my 'playmates' too!"
"Play... mates?"
Maid? Slave? It was a completely different vibe.
Syl gently pulled away from the hug and gestured with her hand.
She showed off the line of girls in extravagant dresses behind her, speaking brightly as if bragging to a friend.
"Yes, that's right, Piel. These are all my playmates. They comfort me when I'm feeling down, come to my side whenever I call... they're all such good, precious friends."
Piel's eyes sparkled.
"Wow... I see!"
A noble lady's "friends."
Her fun "playmates."
Back in her slave days, the hunters and trainers had always drilled it into her head.
"You're nothing but consumables. Even under a master, don't expect to be treated like a person."
She'd heard it so often it was carved into her very bones, yet the scene before her eyes was the complete opposite of those memories.
Syl slipped naturally into the midst of the collared girls, took their hands, and smiled at eye level.
That sight... was so beautiful.
'I don't know about the other heirs master mentioned... but at least Lady Syl Argent is definitely a good person!'
She felt that conviction solidify.
Above all, what captivated Piel's gaze were the excessively lavish, sparkling dresses—far too grand for slaves.
Lace embroidered with gold thread, silk that shifted colors in the sunlight, hair ornaments that looked like miniaturized ballroom gowns for noble young ladies.
Piel was a girl, after all.
She couldn't help but envy those dresses.
But—
'A slave like me saying I want something like that... it'd just be a burden on Lucas master, wouldn't it?'
Besides, children's dresses had far denser stitching and more lace than adult sizes, making them even more expensive.
She tried to tuck the thought away in her heart.
"Piel. You want a dress, don't you?"
"Y-yes?! N-no! That's not it at all—!"
Maybe she'd stared too obviously.
Syl smiled quietly and snapped her fingers with a light tok.
And then.
Click—
With a cheerful sound, several of Syl's slaves rushed over carrying a portable screen and child-sized beastkin dresses.
The colors and textures were almost identical to Syl's own dress.
"Here, Piel. Go on and try it on."
"Y-yes?! Me? N-no! I... I'm just a mere slave...."
Piel frantically waved her hands and stepped back.
This was extravagance.
A dream proposal she didn't even dare to hope for.
At that moment.
Syl spoke very softly.
"Hehe, it's okay, Piel."
And then firmly, yet oh-so-sweetly—
"From now on, Piel will be my slave."
"...Huh?"
"That means you'll be my friend soon, right? I just want to give a dress like this to a friend."
Her smile was warm, and at the same time... inescapably compelling.
"Become Lady Syl's slave... what does that mean exactly?"
"Just what I said. Piel, I like you. We get along great in conversation, you're cute, you're pretty... so isn't it only natural for us to become friends?"
Piel's lips quivered.
It all sounded perfectly reasonable.
She was smiling and saying she wanted to be friends, she'd held her hand, and now she was offering an expensive dress.
The wall of status was high... but did she have any reason to refuse someone so warm who wanted to be friends?
But the problem wasn't that simple.
Syl's words were less an invitation to friendship and more a declaration: "You're my slave."
Piel belatedly sensed the urgency of the situation and stammered out a response.
"Um, Lady Syl! I'm truly grateful for the kind thought... but I'm already Young Master Lucas Argent's slave...."
Syl tilted her head.
"And?"
"So... that means... I already have a master, so I can't become someone else's sla— b-but!"
Piel hurriedly added.
"Still, becoming friends with you, my lady... I'll definitely ask my master's permission!"
It was the best answer she could manage while trembling.
She worried if it was too presumptuous, if it might upset Syl—her tail drooped anxiously.
But then.
"Puh, fuhehe... hahaha... hahahaha!"
Syl started laughing.
Genuinely amused, clutching her stomach.
"Piel, really... how are you this innocent? That's too cute too! What, were you raised in the mountains?"
"Well... if we're being precise, I lived in a cabin with my parents...."
"Aha! I knew it. That's why you haven't got a speck of worldliness on you! That pure innocence trying to chase two rabbits at once... it's so lovable I could faint!"
It was the moment Piel began to relax.
Until that faint shadow crept into the lady's eyes.
"But it did make me a liiiittle upset."
"...Pardon?"
"But it's fine. My friends always 'handle' things like this for me. Right, Anette?"
"Yes, Lady Syl."
The girl in a dress standing behind Syl stepped forward.
Anette.
One of Syl's slaves whom Piel had thought was so pretty earlier.
But up close, the vibe was different.
There was a smile on her lips, but her eyes were trembling ever so slightly.
And in her hand... a neatly bundled cluster of needles.
As Piel blinked in confusion, Syl plucked one of the needles with a light tuk.
And then.
Puuk.
"Gasp...!"
She slowly pushed the needle precisely under Anette's fingernail.
"Kyaaak?!"
It reeked of familiar torture. Piel's body shrank back automatically, her breath catching.
But what was even more horrifying was that even as the needle burrowed under her nail, even as blood welled up... Anette didn't lose her smile, only a few tears pricking at her eyes.
"Ah... thank you, Anette."
Syl said it with a refreshed expression.
"Thanks to you, all my upset is gone. I love you, my friend."
"If it improves your mood, Lady... it's an honor...."
Anette was still trembling, but she kept smiling.
As if it were the most natural thing, as if she were happy about it.
Piel could barely breathe.
She couldn't even distinguish if the scene she'd just witnessed was intimacy, abuse, or affection.
And Syl approached Piel again, continuing in the sweetest voice in the world, as if nothing had happened.
"So, Piel. It's okay to become my slave now, right?"
The more beautiful that smile, the colder her spine froze.
"Ah! Refusing is fine too. I'll have plenty of friends to soothe my heart each time. So... I'll keep asking until you accept my feelings, Piel!"