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~Chapter 17~
Before Sera even picked out her own clothes, she was already choosing mine first?
“Of course — I’m just picking them out, though,” Sera said with a groan.
“I couldn’t decide because everything looked like it would suit you, so I took a little break… but if I’d known, I should’ve hurried.”
Elodie, still dazed like Sera had been earlier, looked over the clothes lined up before her.
Then she noticed the common theme.
“They all have fur.”
The pajamas weren’t made of ordinary fabric but looked soft and fuzzy, like they had fur.
The coat had a fur collar and cuffs.
Even the evening dress had a touch of feathers — not too much, just enough to accent it.
“You lived your whole life thinking you were a field mouse until recently, right? I figured losing all your fur overnight might feel strange.”
I thought it might be some comfort for your lost fur.
“Was that meaningless?”
Sera smiled shyly.
“…No.”
Of course it wasn’t meaningless.
Because of you, I have yet another moment I’ll never forget.
“Joa. (I like it.)”
Sera was always like that — she gave back love so generously, even to Elodie, who already felt fulfilled just by giving it.
Each moment overflowed with warmth, making Elodie wish time would stop forever.
“Hmm, maybe this would be best for now.”
Sera picked up a hazelnut-colored checkered dress to layer over a blouse, along with a beret and lace socks.
“You know, I’ve wanted to do this for you ever since you turned human…”
She said her wish had come true sooner than she expected, and, excited, sat Elodie down to dress her up.
Her flushed cheeks alone showed how delighted she was.
Elodie looked down at the outfit she was wearing.
‘Something a five-year-old would wear.’
After spending ten years in the royal palace, where parties were held almost every day, Elodie had picked up at least a sense of fashion, even without much interest in it.
‘Cute and lovely design.’
And Elodie naturally realized —
‘I’ll probably love this kind of thing for the rest of my life.’
Elodie stepped into the hallway and steadied herself against the wall.
She waddled forward, step by step, grunting with each movement.
Squirrel kept flailing his arms, reaching out every time Elodie wobbled, then pulling back again, all nervous energy.
“Sh-shall I fetch a walker for you?”
“It’s not that bad!”
There was no such thing as a walker for a five-year-old anyway.
Elodie, who had been quietly proud of how well she was doing, suddenly shouted,
“If I hold the wall, I can walk fine!”
“But if you fall—”
Then I’ll fall. So what.
“That’s how you learn — by falling.”
“Miss… you’re so strong.”
That emotional face — as if he were proud of her just for walking — made Elodie’s cheeks burn red.
She had never in her life been the center of such excessive attention.
It was unbearably embarrassing.
She wanted to yell, ‘Go away!’ — but deep inside, a quiet voice whispered:
‘Say that again.’
To a tiny field mouse who’d always been pushed around, being called “strong” was the highest compliment imaginable — one she’d want to hear every day.
For reference, the second-best compliment was “cool.”
“Okay, watch carefully.”
Elodie braced her legs, ready this time to earn that “cool” compliment — when she saw tall figures approaching from the distance.
A man nearly two meters tall, with perfectly slicked-back white hair, dressed in a crisp, military-straight suit that screamed discipline —
It was Aizen, leaning on a cane engraved with his family’s crest as he walked toward the child, chatting with his aide behind him.
‘Wow, even the duke is huge…’
And yet his aide was a full hand taller.
With those giant silhouettes looming closer, it felt like standing in the shade of a great tree, looking up at the sky.
“What are you still doing here?”
“Guh… walking practice…”
“I heard you were going out an hour ago.”
He glanced between Elodie and the door they’d just come through.
“So, you’ve managed about twenty steps, then.”
“…”
Are you kidding me? I walked more than that.
About thirty-five, actually…
Elodie pouted and muttered her small protest inside.
Seeing her expression, Aizen gave a short laugh, then suddenly said,
“I didn’t expect to run into you, but since I did, let’s take care of this together.”
Take care of… what?
Me?
Before she could make sense of it, he suddenly lifted her up.
“Ah!”
“You said you wanted to play doctor, didn’t you?”
Aizen slung the child over his shoulder like a sack and started walking.
“Sorry, but this old man’s busy. With those short legs of yours, you’d never make it before sunset — so we’ll travel like this.”
He called my legs short.
He said I couldn’t make it before sunset…!
I will remember this.
Dangling helplessly, Elodie vowed revenge against the insufferable duke.
Even though Aizen limped from an old leg injury, his physical strength was impressive — he walked perfectly fine with Elodie over his shoulder.
And before long, they arrived.
‘Here…?’
Aizen set Elodie down on a sofa, then went straight to a desk piled high with papers and began working as if nothing had happened.
The room was silent except for the occasional scratch of his quill.
Unable to take it anymore, Elodie asked,
“What are you doing?”
“Work.”
“The doctor game…?”
She hadn’t actually planned to pester a busy man to play, but what was the point of talking about a game and then ignoring her?
And he had brought her to his office — a place utterly devoid of toys.
“You said I should thoroughly inspect everything that goes into my mouth.”
“…”
“So, watch what I eat.”
Ah, right — he’d mentioned planning his diet.
Apparently remembering what she said in the carriage, he added,
“Write down the meal plan when you’re done. I’ll pass it along to the head chef.”
“…”
“If you do a good job, I might even stamp it ‘approved.’”
Elodie said nothing, and Aizen added magnanimously —
…This is what he calls a game?
‘Play with him twice and the kid will run away screaming,’ Elodie thought.
Though he was good at empathizing with children and didn’t seem uncomfortable around them, he clearly wasn’t used to actually playing.
Kids probably found his brusque kindness charming at first — but quickly grew tired of it.
Maybe he just didn’t have the concept of “play” in his workaholic brain.
Still, since Elodie wasn’t really a child, she did as he said and quietly observed his meal.
‘Does he always eat in his office?’
He never lifted his eyes from the documents, never left his desk.
Of course, his meals consisted of quick, simple food like sandwiches.
Watching him, Elodie suddenly had a thought.
‘Could the duke’s cause of death have been… overwork?’
Maybe she’d gotten it wrong.
She’d assumed poisoning — since that’s what you think when a healthy person suddenly dies — but perhaps he’d simply worked himself to death, exhausted beyond recovery.
If that were true, there was nothing Elodie could do to help.
She couldn’t take over his duties, after all.
Nor could she tell a man with such heavy responsibilities to “take it easy.”
‘Should I push the work onto Edmund?’
But that boy’s only fifteen…
Ugh.
As Elodie racked her brain for an answer, a familiar scent drifted to her nose.
‘Hm?’
She sniffed the air again.
‘That’s… Sindora tea leaves?’
Her nose followed the fragrance — a maid was filling the teapot’s strainer with the leaves.
Sindora tea was a rare specialty, known for its ability to clear and sharpen the mind.
Elodie had seen it a few times at the royal palace — in meeting rooms where people argued all day long, or at the Mage Tower, where scholars stayed up all night researching.
Even at fancy balls, where nobles had to chat, smile, and dance for hours, she’d seen people drinking that tea.
‘But drinking it too often isn’t good…’
