Chapter 52

Isaac gently shoved the cat’s muzzle away as it continued to rasp its tongue against the back of his hand. “I would if I could. And for heaven’s sake, stop. It stings.”

「It stings? But why? There isn’t a scratch on you.」

“Cat tongues are essentially sandpaper. My skin happens to be incredibly delicate, you know,” Isaac muttered, catching the creature’s pink tongue between two fingers.

Hiss!

The startled cat jerked its head back.

As the cats had claimed, Isaac’s injuries had completely vanished. He had staggered home the previous night, his body a ruin of shredded flesh, burns, and heavy bruising, only to collapse into total oblivion. Evidently, the cats had spent the night licking his wounds clean, because by the time he roused in the afternoon, both the deep gashes from the blade and the angry burns had faded without a single trace.

However, because the felines had been so relentless in their ministrations, his skin now felt raw and sensitive, as though it had been scrubbed with heavy-grit sandpaper. To ensure he did not draw any unnecessary suspicion, Isaac had wrapped his arms and legs in bandages for the sake of appearances. It was thanks to this ruse that he had been able to return to Blue Shadow Palace without revealing he was perfectly healed.

With the new moon looming, his physical constitution was at its peak; he felt neither fatigue nor illness. The cats had a way of saying the most infuriating things, yet they possessed a strange, undeniable charm. Isaac offered a faint, tired smile at the creature returning to groom his fingertips.

「This one has a rather savory flavor. Quite salty and rich,」 the cat abruptly announced.

Another, currently preoccupied with washing its face, offered a solemn nod of agreement. 「Occasionally, one stumbles upon an unusually delicious human. His father was said to have been particularly delectable.」

「Kali had originally approached the man with the intention of devouring him, but she became hopelessly entangled with him instead, eventually producing this child.」

「Indeed. Truly. If the ingredients are fine, the resulting dish is exquisite. As the old adage goes: beans beget beans, and tasty children are born from tasty parents.」

“…Huh?” Isaac’s jaw went slack as he blinked, his mind reeling. Did I just hear an incredibly shameful secret regarding my own parents?

More pressing, however, was the fact that all three creatures were staring at him, drool beginning to pool at the corners of their mouths.

“You three have incredibly suspicious glints in your eyes right now.”

Slurp.

“…They say cat meat is remarkably effective for treating neuralgia.” Isaac narrowed his eyes, challenging them. The cats flinched, immediately arching their backs and yowling in indignant protest.

Shameless little monsters. They were permitted to contemplate devouring him, yet he wasn’t allowed even a passing thought about eating them? Isaac kicked out toward them from his seat in the grass, though naturally, not a single one of the trio was slow enough to be struck. They simply retreated beyond the reach of his boots and continued to hiss.

Isaac flopped back onto the grass between them. The sky was bleeding into a deep, bruised red as the sun sank slowly over the western mountains. A moonless night was nearly upon them.

Apparently, the prince had yet to wake. Judging by the pallor Isaac had witnessed earlier, Kaiyan looked capable of sleeping for three days and three nights straight. Following the prince’s instruction to report in during the afternoon, Isaac had risen late, consumed a quick lunch, and arrived at Blue Shadow Palace well after three o’clock.

He had relieved the guard stationed outside the prince’s chambers. The man’s face had been ashen with dread, and after offering Isaac a look of profound, chilling sympathy, he had fled the post with frantic haste. It was the night of the new moon, and anyone unfortunate enough to linger within the prince’s line of sight risked death. No one wanted to be anywhere near that bedroom.

Even Aunt Natasha, who arrived with the afternoon refreshment tray, had trembled as she asked, “Is Lord Kaiyan awake?”

“I suspect he’s still sleeping. I haven’t heard a sound from within,” Isaac replied.

“I see… Still, the water pitcher must be refreshed.”

Natasha stood before the heavy door, her skin ghostly pale. She hesitated for so long that Isaac finally sighed and offered, “Would you like me to take it inside for you?”

Her expression brightened with immediate relief as she handed him the tray. Even if Kaiyan was fast asleep, entering that room must have felt like stepping unarmed into the lair of an apex predator.

Isaac eased the bedroom door open without a single creak. Heavy curtains had rendered the room an abyss of dim shadows, and the silence was absolute. Craning his neck, Isaac peered toward the bed from a distance. The prince lay motionless, not even seeming to breathe.

For one horrifying heartbeat, Isaac wondered if he was dead. Kaiyan lay with his eyes closed, so perfectly still that he seemed more inanimate than asleep. Isaac stood frozen for a long moment before finally moving with careful, muted footsteps to approach the bed. He set the tray on the side table.

After swapping out the water pitcher and glass, he looked toward the bed once more. The prince’s face was dark, appearing utterly drained of any vitality.

Isaac clicked his tongue in a silent, mournful protest. Witnessing the severity of the prince’s deterioration with every passing new moon left him deeply unsettled. Isaac’s own body always grew heavy and sluggish during the full moon, but that fleeting discomfort paled in comparison to this.

If only he had never been cursed. It was a hex he had never earned or deserved. It was unspeakably cruel.

Isaac sighed. Though he had made no sound, Kaiyan’s eyes abruptly snapped open as if he had heard the very weight of that grief.

Isaac nearly jumped out of his skin. He had been staring down at the prince’s features when those eyes suddenly locked onto his. His breath hitched, and his entire body seized.

Kaiyan blinked slowly, his vision clearly unfocused, his gaze drifting aimlessly toward the ceiling. His eyes were clouded, as if consciousness were struggling to claw its way back to the surface. After two sluggish blinks, his irises shifted sideways. Isaac could almost hear the sound of those hard, blue beads rotating.

Their eyes met. It felt as though ice-cold water had been poured directly into Isaac’s heart. There was nothing recognizably human in that predatory gaze. Isaac stood frozen, returning the stare in total silence.

Kaiyan blinked once, then twice.

“You…” The prince’s voice scraped from his parched lips, as dry and rough as if it were tearing through raw tissue.

“Yes, Lord Kaiyan,” Isaac answered softly.

Kaiyan continued to stare at him, blinking several more times. Then, the immense strain vanished from the eyes he had seemed to be forcing open. His lids descended again, as though he had finally been reassured by Isaac’s presence.

“There you are,” the prince murmured.

“Yes. I’m right here. Is there anything you need?” Isaac asked, but that was the extent of Kaiyan’s communication. The prince’s eyes remained shut, and he sank back into the abyss of sleep as though losing consciousness entirely.

Isaac stood there for a long time, watching him, before finally retreating from the bedroom. He left very quietly, and nothing else occurred for the rest of the day.

As evening descended and his rest period began, Isaac consumed the quiche and tea Aunt Natasha had prepared, then wandered out to the outer garden. The guard covering his shift hadn’t called for him, which meant the prince had not yet awakened. Kaiyan had slept the entire day.

According to Natasha, this was standard behavior during the daylight hours of a new moon; she believed his instincts forced his body to conserve every scrap of strength in preparation for the immense, agonizing energy drain that would consume him once night fell.

“If only he could sleep soundly through the entire night without waking,” Isaac murmured to himself. If only Kaiyan could remain in that slumber until the new moon passed, sparing him that horrific, tearing pain.

「He cannot. It hurts,」 one of the cats whispered, having somehow understood his internal musings.

「Could you sleep if someone were repeatedly stabbing you with iron skewers?」

「No. It probably hurts far more than that.」

Their words only deepened the ache of sorrow in Isaac’s chest. He sighed quietly, remembering how he had stood vigil beside the bed just hours ago.

“At least my blood can help him.”

「Listen. Muddlehead is spouting utter nonsense again. There is simply no cure for that fool.」

Shuffle.

Around him, the cats huddled, their heads bowed in conspiratorial whispers. Isaac seized their tails, gave them a firm, vigorous shake, and hauled himself to his feet. He glanced up at the darkening sky, brushing the clinging dry grass from his clothes.

“I should head back inside.”

The cats, undeterred, scrambled up and began trotting circles around his ankles. The sun was dipping below the horizon. It was a new moon—their night. The creatures chattered with a manic, sharp energy.

Though his body pulsed with a strange, unnatural vitality, Isaac’s heart remained a leaden weight in his chest. He exhaled a long, tremulous sigh.

“Now then… my wish for this new moon is…”

***