TSROTRATBP Chapter 12

Hurrying over, he spotted me caught in Ahin's grip and his face relaxed with relief. Catching his breath, Iverin quickly returned to his usual blank expression and set his hands on his hips.

"Miss Rabbit, your running is no ordinary talent. I confess I never expected you to attempt an escape from a temple, of all places."

Even in a moment like this, the man's solemn nonsense never let up. I'd run so hard, and cried so much besides, that I didn't even have the energy left to glare—I hung limp in Ahin's grip. Ahin, studying me, turned his gaze to Iverin.

"She says the temple disgusts her."

I have no memory of expressing anything quite that extreme. Dumbfounded, I shot Ahin a flat, disbelieving glare. That was quite the leap.

"My. I had no idea. So Miss Rabbit is an impious little atheist."

"Guess so. It's a bit strange for a rabbit to have religion in the first place, isn't it?"

"Perhaps rabbits offer up the occasional prayer, even so?"

"Oh. Now that's interesting."

Somehow, a conversation that nobody could possibly find interesting continued. Rubbing his chin as though pondering something, Iverin offered:

"Then let's return to the estate."

That's it? That's all it took? I let my jaw drop, half in disbelief. Ahin looked down at my stunned expression and, only then, wore the familiar unreadable smile again.

"Right. Let's return, then."

Return. After such a desperate flight to avoid the priest, it was a strangely simple, and strangely bewildering, conclusion.

"Miss Rabbit."

Not knowing in the slightest how absurd this felt to me, Iverin drew close to Ahin's side, where I still hung. He reached out and carefully smoothed down my ruffled fur.

"This Iverin is not a warrior but a civil official. I would therefore prefer to decline any further sudden running, if it's all the same."

"Iverin, don't chatter so close to her."

"It is precisely this cold, curt manner in my lord that I admire so."

"Mouth."

"Yes."

Iverin, finally managing to zip his mouth shut, led the way ahead. Glancing back and forth between the two beastmen actually walking toward the carriage, I suddenly felt drowsiness wash over me. The word 'return' had, somehow, left my whole body languid.

Where…?

When I opened my eyes, darkness had fallen outside the window. Must've dozed off in the carriage back, then. Shifting on the white bedding, I rubbed at my eyes.

Guess it's from collapsing on the temple floor and bawling that long—my eyelids are heavy, my eyes gone dim.

Feels like I slept plenty, and still I'm tired.

Looking around the cozy bedroom—so different from the temple's cold air—I quickly pretended to be asleep again.

It was a quiet night. But one problem had come up. Ahin—robe on, chin propped on one hand—was staring straight at me, unblinking.

Surely not….

His face looked stiff, even at a glance—no doubt about it, he meant to rip into me for bolting from the temple. Fear struck immediately, and my closed eyes clenched shut all on their own.

Not that this was new—I faced it every night—but the firm chest showing through the gap in his robe was still a lot to deal with.

His face alone was trouble enough to look at—getting used to him looking that disheveled was still asking too much.

Whatever I looked like, I was a grown, healthy adult who'd been through her coming-of-age ceremony. That defenseless black panther clearly had no clue what a dangerous woman he had on his hands in this Lady Vivi.

"Hey."

The call grated on my nerves, but I had no intention of opening my tightly-shut eyes. If he thought a provocation that small would work on me, he was sorely mistaken—

"Crybaby."

Damn it. Temper flaring, I sprang up and drove a paw-punch straight into the back of Ahin's hand.

He blocked my triumphant strike without even trying, then flat out shoved my head down, again and again. Do that wrong and you'll snap my neck. Stop it, you reckless beast.

Oops—!

Eyes blazing at him, I locked gazes with those trademark red panther eyes, and scrambled straight back into playing asleep. A sound like escaping air suggested he found this ridiculous.

"You know."

After a brief silence, a cold shiver ran up my spine. Ahin's finger had begun tracing slowly across my back. There was no threat in the gesture whatsoever, and yet, somehow, a chill crept through me anyway.

"Know what?"

His voice carried the kind of pull that could lure a beastman in, like a siren's song. I don't know, and whatever it is, I'd like to never know. As I clung to that thought, his cool touch reached my back again.

"They say beasts of prey have a nasty hunger to own things. Whatever it is."

Slid. His finger repeated its path across my back, over and over. It was slow, and even in pace. He'd rubbed my back like this plenty of times before, but tonight it felt off in a way that crawled under my skin.

"Sometimes, when that hunger gets out of hand, they say the thing gets wrecked."

Coming from a predator himself, the words fell with the flat ease of someone discussing an unrelated matter entirely.

I, meanwhile, felt a chill strong enough to make me want to bolt upright. What Ahin was saying right now was not, by any measure, someone else's business.

Good lord.

Was he about to do that thing again, pretending to pop me in his mouth? Contrary to my worry, nothing further happened, thankfully.

Still, refusing to let my guard down, I strained my ears.

"You're the one I picked up, aren't you. That's the only reason you're alive."

After several seconds of silence, that flat, even voice came again.

"So that makes you my property. Isn't that right?"

Hearing the question, posed as though seeking confirmation, my mouth had gone dry.

It was, in its own quiet way, a warning: that rather than let me run off, he might break me instead. Somehow, the feeling crept over me that I ought to escape this estate as soon as possible. Was that only my imagination?

Between Ahin's mother—Lady Valens, that is—and myself, an unspoken bond had recently taken shape.

Teatime in the rose garden, held around the same time each day. There, once Meimi withdrew, something secret took place. It was practice in regulating my pheromones.

'Come to the rose garden around lunchtime, every day.'

Lady Valens had proposed that, since my particular pheromone was becoming more pronounced by the day, I should learn how to keep it contained.

That's right—the strange stirring I'd felt within my body once before had, in fact, been pheromones. In theory, this shouldn't have been possible at all, but perhaps it was the first step toward humanization.

Fired up with resolve, I looked forward to this hour every single day, and according to Lady Valens, I was picking things up quickly, improving by leaps and bounds.

Of course, I had no way to confirm whether the praise was genuine. She showed me a strangely disproportionate amount of goodwill, after all.

"Now, child, slow your breathing. Steady. Good."

Sitting on the table, I breathed evenly per her instruction, focusing on the current inside my body. The current spreading through me felt more settled than yesterday's practice.

"From there, gather it toward your dantian, like you're hiding the pheromone away again."

Hard. I had no idea what "hiding" even meant. Seeing my puzzled look, she—sipping her milk tea—spoke quietly.

"No need to rush. Take all the time you need."

Nodding, I focused on gathering the current the way she'd taught me.

Ten-odd minutes later, as the practice continued, fatigue set in without fail. Handling pheromones apparently demanded considerable stamina, enough that I could have used a nap on the spot.

"Well done. That's enough for today."

Gently stroking my head as I caught my breath, Lady Valens held out a book she'd been carrying. Puzzled, I looked up, and the corner of her mouth curved softly.

"This might be a funny question to ask a rabbit, but—do you happen to know your letters?"

Caught by that smile for a moment, I came back to myself and nodded.

I'd never actually written in the continental language myself, but thankfully, reading it posed no problem at all. Even after I turned ten with no sign of humanization, my mother hadn't given up hope, and had made sure I absorbed a beastman's education by eye and by ear.

"I'll have this left with Meimi separately, so read it whenever you have the time. It may prove of some use to you."

From the moment she'd sensed my pheromones, Lady Valens had stopped treating me as an ordinary rabbit.

Though, I supposed, it might have started even before that. Still, it was something of a relief that she hadn't taken any particular action on it, so far.

To begin with, it was hard enough to understand why someone who held the position of family head would spend her time on me at all.

〈Pheromone Theory.〉

I looked back and forth between the book and her, feeling a strange sensation.

After teatime, back in my bedroom, I had Meimi help me right away in propping the thick book open. She placed heavy marble weights on either end to keep the pages from flipping shut.

Good.

Wearing a serious expression, I pressed a paw to the book. Turning pages with a paw was no easy task, but there was no help for it in this rabbit form. For now, chasing after clues about pheromones was my only hope.

Definition of Pheromone.

A pheromone was an innate scent and energy unique to beastmen, manifesting as a distinct ability, or as a means of attack, or as a marker of dominance relations.

Rabbit-type beastmen apparently tended toward evasion-class pheromones, generally speaking. Was I one of those, too? No matter how I thought it over, speed didn't seem to be it.

Lost in thought as I read on to the next chapter, I found myself glancing around the empty bedroom, for no reason at all.

Pheromones and Sex.

This, too, was something beastmen were taught from a young age, but it was a chapter I would very much have preferred not to read alongside anyone else.

Beastmen on the continent underwent two coming-of-age ceremonies. There was the sexual coming-of-age ceremony at fifteen, and the formal, standard-mandated coming-of-age ceremony at eighteen.

Unlike humans, beastmen could use pheromones to charm one another, and so young beastmen were prone to being swept up by instinct. For that reason, it had been established as a norm that beastmen could only use pheromones in relationships with the opposite sex from the age of fifteen onward.

Hm….

Frowning, I skipped past this chapter without needing to skim it closely. It was a matter I already understood perfectly well, without any study.