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Chapter 31.
The next morning, Ted came to my room and widened his eyes when he saw the little animal sleeping on my blanket.
“A silver fox cub.”
“That’s right. The duke brought it to me, saying it was found during a search of the forest.”
“Is it the same fox cub whose mother was said to have been killed by a sorcerer?”
When I nodded, Ted looked as though he were pondering something.
“Have you given it a name yet?”
“No. I don’t think I can raise it myself, so I plan to entrust it to someone else.”
“Why would you give something so precious away?”
Ted’s expression turned unusually serious.
“Each silver fox possesses its own unique ability, and the way it’s raised determines how that power develops. They’re prized not just for their beauty but for their abilities—though few people understand that.”
That was news to me.
“From what I’ve heard of your encounter, the mother fox in the forest must have had the ability of protection.”
“Protection?”
“Yes. You said the mother’s body vanished due to magic, yet the cub survived. I believe the mother used her power to shield the cub before she died.”
I glanced down at the peacefully sleeping baby—who would have thought such a creature carried such a history?
“That barrier of protection is incredibly strong—enough to withstand most magic or mana attacks.”
“I see.”
The silver fox cub blinked its round eyes, as if realizing we were talking about it.
“And silver foxes, though rare, also possess a degree of holy power. Keeping it near you will benefit your health. You should raise it yourself.”
“Holy power…”
Humans had long valued mana, the opposing force to holy power, and as a result, holy energy had all but vanished among them.
Yet traces of it still lingered within people—it was the source of one’s natural healing ability.
Since Ted was half-fae, a race that still revered holy power, his words carried weight.
Even so, I still wasn’t sure I could care for such a young creature. I hesitated, and Ted, with a rare firmness, said flatly:
“Giving it to someone else—I absolutely forbid it. Just having the fox near you will lessen your need for Vitaline.”
Thanks to Ted, who looked ready to chase the fox down himself if I handed it off, I ended up taking in a pet I’d never planned to keep.
“By the way, my lady, the capital’s been in an uproar since the recent attack.”
“Really?”
“Yes. It seems neither the royal family nor the Duchy of Lysianthus has yet uncovered the organization known as Blue Bird, but it’s only a matter of time.”
Once the crackdown on the illegal gambling dens began, Blue Bird would inevitably surface—as Ted said, it was just a matter of when.
“Most of all, the courage shown by the Marquis of Reviang’s son and daughter in facing down the mysterious assassin has been attracting attention.”
“Don’t tell me you had a hand in spreading that story, Ted?”
“Of course I did.”
He exaggerated a shrug with mock pride, making me laugh despite myself.
“I’ve heard the young lady I serve isn’t exactly on friendly terms with the empress’s sister. The more shields you have, the better. A family with public favor is a wall even the empress’s faction will hesitate to cross.”
“Thank you, Ted. Thanks to you, I might finally get some rest.”
“I’m glad to hear it. Ah—about the message you asked me to deliver yesterday—it’s been done.”
That message was to tell Stella and Fony that I was safe.
“Good. I’ll rest for a while then. You’ve worked hard.”
After giving a polite bow, Ted left the room, and only the silver fox and I remained.
Following his advice that it was best to name it quickly, I began to think of names.
“Hmm… if I call you Rex, everyone will think of someone else’s nickname.”
I pondered it all through breakfast.
“They said they’re not even sure if you’re male or female. How am I supposed to pick a name?”
Even after taking a light walk—per the doctor’s recommendation—and being practically forced back into bed by Mother, I still hadn’t decided.
“Kyuu! Kkyuu!”
The little creature that had stayed in my room while I was out ran toward me the moment I returned, as if it had been waiting all along.
It ran surprisingly fast for its size.
“Kkyuuu!”
I was seriously considering naming it Kkyu-kyu when Cassie entered.
“My lady, you have a visitor.”
She hurriedly draped a shawl over my shoulders and tied a light scarf around my neck, then gestured for me to sit on the bed.
The silver fox quickly scampered up beside me, perching on the blanket.
A moment later, my mother appeared—with our guest following behind.
Catching sight of the familiar golden hair that could belong to none other than the Crown Prince, I had to suppress a sigh.
Of all days, I hadn’t even taken my Vitaline today.
“Then, I’ll leave you to your conversation. But please remember, Your Highness—Rosia is still recovering.”
“Of course, madam.”
“I’ll leave the door open. If you need anything, call.”
Unlike Father, Mother never forgot the proper etiquette for a lady receiving a male visitor, and I was grateful for that.
“Lady Reviang.”
With every step the Crown Prince took toward me, my heart thudded loudly in my chest.
“Kkyuuuu!”
The silver fox, sitting obediently on the blanket until now, bristled and bared its fangs at the prince.
“And this is?”
“I’m sorry, Your Highness. It’s still just a cub—it doesn’t yet know how to behave around people.”
Fearing the Crown Prince might harm it, I hurriedly petted the fox to calm it down.
“So this is a silver fox cub, I see.”
I tensed, worried he might ask for it. The duke had arranged for it to be delivered to me, but if the Crown Prince demanded it, refusing would be nearly impossible.
Just this morning, I’d been ready to give it away—yet the mere thought of him taking it soured my mood.
“Even among silver foxes, a cub is quite a rarity…”
The prince regarded the puffed-up creature with curiosity, but thankfully didn’t ask for it.
I exhaled quietly and bowed.
“Rosia of House Reviang greets Your Highness the Crown—”
“No need to rise. I know you’re unwell.”
He raised a hand, stopping me mid-motion.
Out of courtesy, perhaps, but I didn’t rise—and to my surprise, he didn’t mock me for it.
“I was delayed in visiting. I had to investigate what happened during the hunting tournament. How’s your health?”
“Much better, thanks to your concern.”
“I’m glad to hear it.”
So it was that time already—when the Crown Prince began to realize his feelings for Merina.
And the Emperor, noticing, must have ordered him to visit me.
His uncharacteristically calm demeanor said as much.
He used to lash out whenever he saw me, but he always obeyed his father’s commands to the letter.
He probably hadn’t wanted to come—so I might as well help him pass the time.
Knock, knock.
Perfect timing—Cassie came in pushing a tea cart, and another maid moved the tea table beside the bed.
While Cassie brewed the tea, the Crown Prince still showed no intention of sitting, and I made no effort to insist.
Once the maids left and the door closed again, it was just the two of us.
Then suddenly, the Crown Prince reached out, grabbed the scarf around my neck, and yanked.
The marks left by Blue Bird’s thug—dark handprints—were laid bare.
“Kkyuuuuu!”
The silver fox sprang up, barking furiously.
I held it close to calm it down and glared at the prince.
“What do you think you’re doing, Your Highness?”
I wasn’t shocked by his rudeness—only by his sudden movement.
The real problem was that he would tell Merina about the bruises on my neck, and she would spread the story through the social circles.
That kind of rumor could ruin a woman’s reputation—and the thought alone irritated me.
“Even as the Crown Prince, Your Highness should know such behavior is improper. Surely you’re aware of that?”
“Ha.”
His face twisted with disbelief.
As if he hadn’t once been the one to leave such marks on me himself—though of course, he remembered nothing.
“What on earth is this…”
He reached toward my neck again, but before I could even think, my hand flew up and slapped his away.
Smack!
The sound echoed sharply through the room.
The prince froze, his hand suspended midair.
Our eyes met—his full of surprise, mine calm.
“I beg your pardon, Your Highness. Since that incident, I’ve been easily startled. Please forgive the discourtesy.”
I clutched my chest and bowed deeply.
Thinking that wouldn’t be enough, I bent even lower—only to lose my balance and fall forward.
