Chapter 55
Wishid stood up, saying he would call Nana, and walked toward the door.
The moment he opened it, Kaiman was waiting.
“Bring Nana. And tell her to bring along a dress suitable for an adult woman.”
“Yes, understood.”
Meanwhile, Luna lifted her hands up to her eyes. She curled her fingers one by one, from her left pinky to her right, then stretched them straight again, turning them this way and that.
Even when she grabbed a fistful of her own hair, she couldn’t quite believe she had become human.
Laughter slipped out of her lips.
She had finally achieved the transformation she had dreamed of so desperately. She felt so thrilled she wanted to roll across the floor, then cartwheel, and finish with a handstand.
“Are you happy?”
“Of course! When I was a chinchilla, the only ones I could talk to were you and Geumdong. It was so inconvenient. Ah—Geumdong! Where’s Geumdong?”
Luna hurriedly glanced around.
Geumdong had been curled up in one spot on the bed since she woke, eyes gleaming as he watched her.
“Geumdong!”
Luna rushed to hug him tightly, then gently placed him back on the bed.
“Look, Geumdong. I can walk like this now—ah!”
She pushed herself up energetically, only to stagger immediately.
“Careful.”
Wishid caught her just in time, frowning.
“Did you injure your legs?”
“No, it doesn’t hurt… it just feels weak. Like I can’t put in strength properly.”
“It seems your leg muscles haven’t fully adapted to your human form yet.”
“Hold me—I want to try walking.”
Luna gripped both his hands and stood up again. But her legs wouldn’t obey her will. They felt stiff and unsteady.
She broke into a cold sweat as she forced herself to take one step.
“Ah!”
She moved too hastily and tripped over herself.
Wishid steadied her firmly by the waist.
“Luna. I told you to be careful.”
Unable to reply, Luna gave him a sheepish grin.
At that moment, the door burst open.
“Lord Wishid, why are you suddenly asking for a dress…?”
Nana stepped in—and froze in her tracks.
“Nana!”
Still leaning slightly backward in Wishid’s arms, Luna waved both hands toward her frantically.
Wishid pulled her upright.
Luna bounced lightly in place, tugging on him to move faster.
“All right.”
He lifted her and set her down right in front of Nana. Luna immediately threw her arms around the woman, who stood nearly a head taller.
“Nana, it’s me, Luna! Your little squeaker!”
“W-what?!”
Nana’s senses finally returned.
She looked Luna up and down in shock.
The soft white fur, now silver hair; the gray that deepened toward the tips of her ears and tail; the faint silver sheen at the ends of her hair; the golden eyes—the same golden eyes—and the gentle, round gaze.
There was no denying it. This young woman was the very Luna she had served until now.
“I always wanted to call your name properly.”
Luna gave a wide, silly grin.
Nana crushed her in a hug.
“Lady Luna! You’re too adorable! This level of cuteness should be illegal!”
“Uh, what?”
Luna blinked in confusion.
She touched her own face.
Come to think of it, she had never actually seen her own human face. A spark of hope flickered inside her.
Maybe I’m pretty? Like… really beautiful?
She wanted to look in a mirror immediately, but Nana’s embrace was strong, and even when she asked to be released, Nana was too busy muttering to herself to listen.
With no choice, Luna looked over at Wishid.
“Wishid. Am I pretty?”
“…What?”
“What do I look like? Am I cute? Pretty?”
“…”
What’s this? So it’s only in Nana’s eyes that I’m pretty?
No matter how she asked, Wishid gave no answer.
“…Yeah.”
“Huh? Didn’t you just say something?”
“…No. I didn’t say anything. The council will start soon, so practice walking with Nana’s help and change clothes. Understood?”
“Okay.”
Luna waved both hands energetically.
“Good luck!”
Persia Duke was tapping his foot anxiously.
Damn it.
Last night was supposed to be the night Wishid finally died.
But there had been no word since the last message that the operation was about to begin.
He hadn’t dared to act rashly, fearing he might leave evidence for Wishid to seize, so he had spent the entire night sleepless.
When he dozed for a moment, he dreamed of Wishid staggering toward him, drenched in blood—and woke in a fit, thrashing. In the dream, Persia Duke had burned to death in the same fire that had consumed his hair ten years ago.
He could still remember the agony of his scalp burning away.
Almost by habit, he touched his hair. The wig he had spent a fortune on gleamed with a sheen more natural than the real thing.
“Duke Persia, is something wrong?”
Duke Road asked, annoyed by his incessant fidgeting. It was really a way of telling him to stop shaking his leg, but Persia startled as if caught committing a crime.
“Wh-what? N-no, nothing at all. Ha-ha.”
He forced a laugh and hurriedly changed the subject.
“By the way, Duke Erkyl still hasn’t arrived. His Highness should be here any moment now.”
“Indeed.”
“Have either you, Duke Road, or Duke Ventes, heard any word? Perhaps he was detained for some reason…”
It was an odd question. Dukes rarely shared much private exchange, and of all of them, Wishid was the least sociable.
“I’ve heard nothing.”
“Nor I.”
“I see.”
Persia grew even more uneasy.
He resolved to contact the guild that had handled the matter once this council was finished.
Just then, the doors opened, and the Chief Steward of the Crown Prince’s palace entered.
“His Highness is unwell today, and so the council has been canceled. To soften your surprise, His Highness has prepared small gifts for you all.”
Attendants followed him in, carrying documents which they presented to Road and Ventes.
They checked them immediately—imperial permits approving petitions they had previously submitted to the Emperor.
“As for you, Duke Persia, His Highness wishes to deliver your gift personally.”
So Persia Duke followed the steward toward the Crown Prince’s quarters.
He thought hard about what he had done for the prince lately. Nothing beyond the usual gifts, nothing excessive.
In truth, he had already pledged himself to the Second Prince.
But what if the Crown Prince had learned of this and was trying to win him over?
Persia’s face lit up.
Among the Second Prince’s faction, his own power was the greatest. The Crown Prince would stop at nothing to steal him away. And the Second Prince would pay even more dearly to keep him.
Persia could simply play them against each other, amassing wealth and power, and then side with whichever showed the greater chance of victory.
Before entering the prince’s office, he straightened his clothes and cleared his throat.
“Your Highness, Duke Persia is here.”
“Come in.”
The door opened, and Persia stepped in with a triumphant smile.
“I greet Your Highness. What matter could be so urgent that you summoned me while unwell…”
He lifted his head from a bow—and froze.
He couldn’t believe his eyes.
For across from the Crown Prince sat Wishid. Alive and well.
