TSROTRATBP Chapter 9

A crack split the air. The dummy in the training yard burst apart. A wood splinter, flung loose by the impact, grazed the back of Ahin's hand.

He hadn't moved to dodge it; a thin line of blood seeped from the skin.

"Might it not be wiser to forgo training today, my lord?"

Iverin, waiting off to the side, wore a look of concern. It had only been the day before that the wolf clan's attack took place.

The wolf clan, whose land was barren, had for generations eyed black panther territory like prey, waiting for its chance.

Crossing the border without leave was hardly rare, but of late, the wolf clan's incursions into black panther territory had grown noticeably more frequent.

In response, the sovereign of black panther territory had offered the wolf clan the chance to submit under their banner—an offer the wolf clan flatly refused, choosing instead to set its sights on the territory itself.

As a result, Ahin, as the sovereign's direct heir, found himself on the receiving end of sudden raids and assassination attempts more often than not.

"Excessive movement puts a strain on the body. You've taken a wound to the back."

Turning to face Iverin's attempt to dissuade him, Ahin licked the blood from the back of his hand.

"It's already healed."

"…Sir?"

"The wound."

"Indeed—Lord Ahin's remarkable recovery is something no one else could hope to match."

Iverin gave his usual flattering reply, but he couldn't quite hide the flabbergasted look on his face.

A wound stitched shut just yesterday, healed clean overnight—no way.

Concluding it was simply an excuse to keep hold of his sword, Iverin took a step back, obedient. There was never any budging Ahin once he'd set his mind—not from any distance.

'…He doesn't buy it.'

Grasping that Iverin had taken his claim of healing as a joke, Ahin slowly reached a hand back, brushing over the area where the wound had been.

He supposed even he, in Iverin's position, might have dismissed it as some kind of joke or nonsense. But the healing was no lie. It was fact.

Early that morning, oddly free of the pain he'd expected, he'd checked his back and found only a faint scar remaining.

Clank. Ahin sheathed his sword and turned to Iverin, a thin smile crossing his face.

"Iverin. Check the rabbit-territory noble houses—see if any family's lost someone dead or missing recently."

The rabbit territory's noble houses? Iverin, startled by the sudden, unexpected instruction, quickly grasped its meaning and bowed deeply.

Ten days had already passed since I'd arrived at this estate.

The whole time, my days looked exactly the same.

Meimi would arrive at a set hour and spend the day with me; come evening, I'd endure Ahin's teasing.

Every so often, his aide Iverin would show up and turn my composure inside out.

'Lord Ahin, you did say you'd have her roasted. Would you like her for breakfast?'

'No. Eating her now—on hold.'

'Congratulations, Miss Rabbit. Your life has been extended.'

Or:

'There she goes glaring again.'

'To glare at Lord Ahin—she is truly no ordinary creature. A valor surpassing that of most predator beastmen.'

'That impressive, is she?'

'Indeed. I see the spirit of a general in her.'

Exchanges like that, over and over. Through it all, Iverin had, by this point, been crowned the most hated black panther in the estate.

Now and then, when Meimi's attention slipped, I'd attempt an escape, but a flying dagger unfailingly put a stop to it, and even those attempts had grown rarer as a result.

My odds of survival outside the estate were slim enough as it was—I didn't need a dagger on top of that, threatening my life too.

Today, at the usual hour for the garden walk, something rather different from the ordinary took place.

Right now, seated at a tea table in the middle of a rose garden, I kept reading the room, nerves on edge. Across from me sat a striking woman who, at a glance, bore an unmistakable resemblance to Ahin.

Her silver hair, swept up; her narrowly curved red eyes—it was hard to see anything but a connection to him.

"So, Meimi. This child is Ahin's feed, is it?"

She opened her mouth, savoring a sip of herbal tea while watching me.

"…That's correct."

Hey, Meimi! I glared axe-eyes at her, but Meimi's gaze slid quietly away.

It wasn't a lie, exactly. Ever since Ahin had first tossed the word "future feed" at Meimi, there'd been no further clarification on the matter. Officially, "feed" was… accurate, I suppose.

"I'd heard a rumor about a marvelous rabbit that speaks."

"I regret to say the rumor appears to have been exaggerated, my lady. Though she is capable of understanding a fair amount of what is said to her."

"So it wasn't entirely false, then. I'd like to look this child over for a while—step back and wait."

"Yes, Matriarch."

Matriarch. At Meimi's final word, the composed expression I'd been trying so hard to maintain finally crumbled.

Of course—she resembled Ahin far too closely. Given the title "Matriarch," this woman had to be his mother, and the head of this entire estate.

"Little one."

Once she'd confirmed Meimi had moved out of earshot, the woman's smile deepened.

"Hold out your paw."

"Now the foot."

"Sit up."

Such peculiar demands. Just what was she even making me do.

But I wasn't in a position to refuse, so I followed her instructions—extending my forepaw, then a hind foot, sitting up, then lifting my haunches, over and over.

Watching me move this way and that, Ahin's mother stroked her chin, satisfied.

"…Aren't you a cute thing. So this is the taste of it—why Ahin likes keeping feed around."

That one line did it—from emergency rations at the time I was caught, to reserve stock now, fattened up to be eaten.

Ugh.

Forget making sense of any of this.

My legs gave out, and I plopped flat onto the table.

Gently stroking beneath my chin, she offered a warm smile.

"If you'd like to live a long life, don't be too obedient with Ahin. He may be my son, but he's got a screw loose, quite a considerable one. By nature, predators are prone to swallowing their prey whole the moment their interest fades."

Sweetly delivered advice, chilling enough to make one faint. Enduring being treated as prey already took some nerve—but if I trusted this and actually defied Ahin, wouldn't he really tear into me with his teeth?

Then again, ignoring it entirely felt unsettling too. Wanting to faint all over again, after only ten days here, I pressed a forepaw to my temple. My head was practically spinning.

"Little one, and—one more thing."

At the unfinished sentence, I, already wilting, lifted my head. Our gazes met, suspended in midair.

Afraid of the eyes that marked her as a black panther, I tried to look away, but couldn't quite manage to break the stare.

Ahin's mother regarded me steadily for a long moment, then let the words fall, offhand, as though they meant nothing at all.

"I sensed the faintest pheromone from you just now. Not anymore, though."