TSROTRATBP Chapter 14

At those following words, my forepaw—gripping his finger—slipped, and I let go with a small, involuntary plop, and let out a sigh. Startled by the lion's sudden appearance, I'd forgotten entirely that Ahin was a black panther with a screw loose.

"Not clinging more?"

As if it were a shame I'd stopped clinging, the humor drained from Ahin's red eyes. His eyes narrowed slightly at the corners—exaggerate it a little, and it could have passed for hurt.

Like you'd want to cling to him. As I edged backward, the toe of the lion's shoe touched my body. My rear bumped it, quite unintentionally, and I whipped my head up in alarm.

The lion, eyeing me like I was something contemptible, soon curved his mouth into a sly, teasing shape. A smile that looked bland, almost bored—precisely the kind of laziness particular to lions.

"Seems the rabbit prefers the dirty lion to Lord Grace."

"…That can't be—"

Ahin's expression hardened terrifyingly as he closed the distance without hesitation. The air was ready to snap at the slightest touch—even the guards around them stiffened harder still.

Against my worry, he stopped right in front of the lion and simply picked me up by the scruff, lightly. Examined up close, Ahin's face wasn't angry.

……?

Whether to call it grave or call it hurt, it was a face hard to sort into any single category.

"Flirt."

Dropping that one reproachful word, Ahin tucked me into his pocket.

"Not that I'm worried, mind you—but dual marriage is forbidden, here in black panther territory."

Why on earth he was announcing that like it was a matter of grave importance, I couldn't fathom. Before I could grasp his intent, he'd already turned his steps back toward the estate.

Struggling my way out of the pocket, I managed to cling, just barely, to Ahin's shoulder. Right then, the lion, stretching behind us, muttered.

"…Still a crazy son of a bitch, that one."

Hearing it perfectly clearly, I found myself nodding along in agreement without meaning to.

Right, I don't really know what goes on in his head either, if I'm honest. I think it's about the most accurate description there is.

After delivering the baby rabbit back to the bedchamber, Ahin returned to his office and brought a hand to his shirt collar. Loosening the cravat that had been choking his throat, he caught an unfamiliar scent near his fingers, and his mood soured further still.

Rune Maniuntz. That irritating lion had gone out of his way to rub his own pheromone scent onto the rabbit. Rune had clashed with Ahin over every little thing for years now; he'd almost certainly noticed Ahin's scent lingering on the rabbit and pulled this stunt out of pure mischief.

'This is a nuisance.'

Seated at his desk, he flipped through the paperwork.

Over the past few months, the wolf clan had steadily begun poking its head up more.

Judging it no bad thing to prepare against a possible war, Valens, sovereign of the black panther clan, had sent an alliance letter to the lion clan's sovereign.

Sure enough, the lion sovereign had sent back a favorable answer at once. Given the wolves had long been thorns in his side, the matter had naturally moved quickly.

As the one entrusted with the current alliance business, Ahin's schedule had been packed since morning.

More than that, his temper had already been low from how badly he clashed, every time, with the lion sovereign's son—Rune Maniuntz—who kept showing up for each round of negotiations. And now that Rune had gone and entangled himself with his rabbit, the urge to grind him into paste had only grown.

"Lord Ahin."

Iverin, entering the office, came and stood close.

Tap, tap. As Ahin's fingers drummed the desk, a thin sheaf of paper was held out to him.

"The investigation report you requested. I surveyed the entire body of nobility across Rabbit Territory. No missing family members or children exist among any noble house. As a supplementary measure, I also surveyed merchants of good bloodline—but taking the date on which Lord Ahin brought Miss Rabbit here as the baseline, no one has gone missing."

The report listed the personal details of the nobility and merchants of Rabbit Territory. Flipping carelessly back and forth through the stack, Ahin let out a hollow laugh.

"A genuinely suspicious rabbit."

His manner didn't look disappointed, even having failed to turn up any particular information. Watching his relaxed reaction, Iverin ventured, carefully.

"This is only my own view, but… is it possible Miss Rabbit isn't a beastman at all, but some other species entirely?"

"A different species?"

"Yes. At first I thought perhaps she was a beastman moving between her true form and a human form, but a full month has passed now, and she remains a rabbit throughout."

"True—she hasn't grown, either. Still the same shape. Though she's put on some weight, at the sides."

"Thanks to Matriarch Valens, she's grown plump and round. Perhaps now is precisely the moment for roasted rabbit."

The rabbit, for whatever reason, had won Valens's favor, and had been growing rounder by the day on a steady supply of fine hay and treats gathered from every corner. Recalling the plump, cotton-ball-like rabbit rolling about on the bed, Ahin rested his chin on his hand.

'Not a noble, then.'

Unlikely, that. Nearly all noble titles across the continent were held by beastmen with pedigreed pheromones. Given that, it was more than a little odd for someone bearing so strange a pheromone not to be a noble.

Iverin hadn't yet felt it directly, but the scent that occasionally leaked off the rabbit was, without question, a beastman's own particular pheromone. The more her tears fell or her emotions ran high, the stronger the scent grew.

'That ability, surely….'

Half-lowering his red eyes, Ahin's hand drifted, unthinking, to the sutured wound on his back. The scent the rabbit gave off especially during deep sleep was too subtle, too particular, to belong to any herbivore beastman.

Valens, having risen to a high level of mastery, had picked up on it at once and turned her attention to the rabbit. The higher-bred a predator, the more sensitively they could pick up on pheromones or other such scents.

And if his suppositions held true, the rabbit's ability was of precisely the kind every beastman on the continent would covet.

"Lord Ahin."

A voice, resolved, rang through the office. Ahin lifted his gaze, curious, and found Iverin, wearing a rather grave expression, clenching his fist.

"I will personally press Miss Rabbit for the truth of her origins."

"Do that and she might genuinely start to hate you."

"I suppose that's so."

Iverin's greatest current interest, without a doubt, was the rabbit. It seemed the rough reactions he got back, every time he teased her, brought him no small amount of pleasure. And so:

'Miss Rabbit. It would be best if you avoided the dining room, especially at mealtimes. You might end up on the table.'

'Miss Rabbit. However did you manage to overturn the hay bowl I so carefully prepared for you!'

'Miss Rabbit. The head chef tells me rabbit is best roasted whole.'

Such were his misdeeds, and the rabbit now bristled the instant Iverin so much as appeared.

More than that, not long ago he'd been carrying around a book called 〈Everything About Preparing and Cooking Wild Herbivores〉, and the rabbit upon spotting him, had flown into a rage and torn it to shreds.

That had been the first time Ahin learned the baby rabbit was capable of such violent action.

Recalling the flurry of furious paw-swats, Ahin's red eyes turned to Iverin.

"Iverin. You're quite twisted."

Now the rabbit huffed and puffed at the mere sight of him—he'd more than earned himself a spot as something she loathed. He shot him a sideways glance carrying just that meaning, and Iverin, for reasons unclear even to himself, felt wronged.

"I'd rather not hear that particular assessment from you, of all people, my lord."

"Say that again."

"Lord Ahin is to me the wellspring of all things—a being like light itself. Furthermore—"

"Mouth."

"Yes."

Satisfied at the silence that fell at once, Ahin sank deeper into his chair.

Gazing up at nothing, he found himself recalling, unbidden, the moment he'd first picked up the baby rabbit. Two beastmen, dressed in black clothes clearly worn by those with something to hide, had been carrying a basket.

'Well, that's a new one—ordering your own brat dumped on a pack of predators.'

'Y'know—there was that rumor about a bastard kid, wasn't there.'

'Has to be dropped this deep in, or there'll be trouble down the line.'

'Word came down she's to die by black panther hands—without fail.'

Leaving her to die at black panther hands—meaning, whatever this was, they'd already written her off as a lost cause. Recalling the conversation the two had exchanged, Ahin found his tongue sweeping across his lip without meaning to.

Watching that, Iverin tensed inwardly. A superior wearing that particular expression was never, ever up to anything good.

"My lord?"

Rousing from his thoughts, Ahin shifted his gaze from empty air to Iverin. A moment later, the corner of his mouth curled, mischievous.

"Iverin. If anyone should come looking for that rabbit."

"Yes."

Ahin reached out and tapped, tap, tap, at the map spread across his desk. Where his fingertip landed was the Border Forest, the stretch of land connecting Rabbit Territory to Black Panther Territory.

"Kill them—leave none standing."

The damp steam rising from the hot water thickened the air around us.

"…I'm sorry."

Maybe she still felt bad about the garden—Meimi, toweling me down, spoke up. She rarely did.

"Lord Rune Maniuntz is a high-standing figure who comes as the delegate every time negotiations with the lion clan take place."

Which meant, apparently, that this lion beastman, Rune Maniuntz, was not someone household staff or knights could freely restrain.

Negotiating with a figure like that—Ahin's family, then—a noble house wielding real power, even here in Black Panther territory. That much was certain.

"Going forward, it would probably be best to hold off on walks, on the days he visits."

Lion beastman. Rune Maniuntz. Negotiations. I turned the day's events over carefully in my mind, taking in everything Meimi told me, piece by piece.

Once the unusually long bath was finished and I returned to the bedchamber, the passing time made me grow steadily more anxious.

Ahin would be arriving soon, and however I turned it over, it seemed unlikely he'd simply let the garden incident slide. Especially given how displeased he'd looked, right up until we parted, muttering about the lion smell.

I need to hide.

Couldn't run—fine, hide, then. Least I could do. But most of the spots in the room seemed like places I'd be found in an instant.

Eyes darting everywhere, I felt this pointless surge of injustice—for no reason at all. I couldn't tell what lion smell even was, no matter how hard I concentrated my nose on the matter.

First the lion in the garden, accusing me out of nowhere of stinking like black panther. Now Ahin, muttering about lion smell, scowling at me. Predators seemed to operate on a whole different level of senses than herbivore beastmen.

Not here either.

Under the bed, beneath the sofa—those spots, sadly, seemed likely to be found in no time.

Dashing this way and that around the room, I pricked my ears up sharply.

Just then, the sound of armor scraping together came from outside. The guards had surely snapped to attention—meaning Ahin had arrived.

Greeeak. Thunk. An ominous sound rang out, the door opening and closing. Holding my breath, I strained to listen for the footsteps. Curled up tight with tension, I found myself furious that I didn't even know why I was hiding.

The nerve of that guy.