The flickering candlelight illuminated the guest room where Ahin was staying.
It was a night with not a single star in the sky. Scratch, scratch. Ahin’s pen, which had been wandering over the documents, suddenly stopped.
Everine, who was working at a makeshift desk, asked without lifting her eyes from the papers.
“Are you waiting for a messenger bird? As far as I know, there are no letters you’re expecting.”
There was no answer to his question. Everine, who belatedly found the answer, looked up.
“Ah, you told Lord Rabbit to write a letter before leaving the mansion, didn’t you? You must be waiting for that.”
“-Not really.”
Then why do you check the window every minute? Everine’s expressionless face twitched slightly as he faced Ahin’s aloof demeanor.
‘Vivi, make sure to write a letter once a day.’
Ahin had instructed Vivi just before boarding the carriage, but Vivi, like an old rabbit who had lived for a hundred years, probably let it go in one ear and out the other. Concluding that they would never receive the letter, Everine added.
“I’ll keep an eye out for the letter, so why don’t you start getting ready for bed?”
“I don’t want to sleep alone.”
“Shall I sing you a lullaby like in the old days?”
In his younger days, Everine had been an eager and passionate budding assistant. Ahin, recalling the days when he would sing sweet lullabies at his bedside to wrap up the day’s schedule, rested his chin on his hand irritably.
“You’re tone-deaf.”
“Occasionally, I manage to sing well.”
“Then sing it for Vivi next time.”
Ahin, smirking crookedly, fiddled with his pen. As he tilted his head, his silver hair slipped down over his skin.
It had already been more than half a year since he started sleeping with Vivi every night without fail.
Vivi’s absence meant that the faint healing pheromones that had soothed Ahin’s nights for the past few months were also gone. The immense pheromones he had suppressed now slithered through his body like a snake.
He pressed down on the pain that began throbbing in his chest, spinning the pen in his hand without any real interest.
Everine, who had been watching the seemingly bored Ahin, turned his gaze to the window. The vague shape of a bird appeared against the night sky.
“It seems the rabbit hasn’t disappointed your expectations, Ahin.”
Ahin jumped up and flung open the window. With a flutter, the messenger bird landed on the windowsill.
‘Hilla?’
A small doubt flashed in Ahin’s eyes. Although the bird had a letter pouch tied to its leg, it was Valence’s eagle owl, not Quinn.
“Where’s Quinn?”
The eagle owl blinked its bright yellow eyes and tilted its head.
‘Did Mother send the letter on her behalf?’
Since Vivi was likely spending day and night with Valence, it wasn’t particularly strange.
Putting aside his small doubt, Ahin took out the letter. Judging by the neatly stamped paw prints at regular intervals, it was clear that no one but Vivi could have written it.
“……”
He unfolded the letter and stared at it for a long time, as if nailed in place.
Curious, Everine glanced over his shoulder at the contents and gasped. The short word encapsulated the suppressed feelings that Vivi had harbored all this time.
[Lunatic]
A ripple spread across Ahin’s otherwise calm eyes. It was a slang term that no one had ever dared to utter to his face.
Blinking slowly, Ahin read and reread the letter several times.
“…Is this a roundabout way of asking to be devoured?”
Everine carefully covered his trembling lips with his hand. He found the situation both amusing and pitiful, as his master’s subtle anticipation had been completely shattered.
“Well, at least the wait was worth it. It’s a letter that offers you some valuable self-reflection.”
“Your mouth.”
“Yes.”
Ahin folded the paper and tucked it back into his inner pocket, then settled at the desk. It didn’t take long for him to write a reply.
With a flutter of wings, the eagle owl carrying Ahin’s reply soared across the night sky.
“Then I should live up to expectations.”
Determined to show his full “lunatic” side when they reunited, Ahin watched the owl disappear into the distance.
At the same time, inside Rune’s carriage.
Unaware of these developments, Vivi suddenly stood up on two feet. An animalistic instinct was sending warning signals.
“Why are you trembling all of a sudden? Are you cold?”
Rune handed a handkerchief to Vivi, who was looking around anxiously.
Perhaps it was due to the chilly weather. Vivi burrowed into the handkerchief, curling up and trembling with unease.
‘Something feels ominous.’
It was an unusually cold and foreboding evening.
* * *
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