TYND 40

TL: Motokare

House Falsen, like all Northerners, had a long tradition of hunting—that of course, took place deep in the forests. But unlike forests located in the central and southern parts of the continent, northern woods were treacherous, as they were places where demonic fiends lurked. 

Because of that, families living in the north kept hunting dogs brave enough to face those fiends, and the Falsens were no exception. 

The hunting dogs bred by House Falsen were a breed called Wolfesain, with glossy black fur, sleek sturdy build, sharp fangs and claws. Loyal to their master to the end while chasing pretty until the kill, making them ideal for hunting fiends. Since they weren’t a gentle breed and grew almost as big as Rothy, they were never left with children without supervision. 

“That’s why you must never come to see them without me.”

“They’re so adorable.”

“They’re predators, that’s why a trainer must always be nearby.”

“Look, Your Grace! They’re so tiny and wriggly…”

“…Speak comfortably.”

“They’re small and cute.”

Rothy was completely smitten with the puppies. His eyes were glued to the wriggling puppies in the cradle, his fingers twitching with the urge to pet them. Theon turned to the trainer, who was watching with amusement.

“Is it fine to pet them?”

“They’ve started teething, but their bites won’t hurt. It’s fine to pet them.”

“Rothy, you heard that.”

“Yeaaaah…!”

Rothy cautiously placed his hand on the back of the puppy with the darkest fur. Carefully, he stroked its fur, and the puppy let out a soft whine, kneading its feet. Then he moved to the brown one next to it, giving it a gentle pet before sucking in a breath. Finally, he stroked the white one, his fingers trembling slightly. 

“Theon, come touch them. Puppies feel absolutely incredible.”

Rothy grabbed Theon’s large hand with both of his and made him pet the puppies. The tiny creatures whimpered, making noises like sleep talk, while squirming. They were born just when Rothy had arrived at the estate, making them only three weeks old. The trainer explained that while they were quiet now—having just been fed and were napping, they were actually quite energetic pups. 

“They’re not soft and squishy, but rather firm, aren’t they?”

“That’s right.”

“That’s so strange. Chi-chi was soft even when it was a baby.”

“Is that so?”

This is the first time I’ve felt such firm babies. I thought all babies were soft…”

“I see.”

Even this young, they showed the traits of hunting dogs, befitting their lineage cherished by generations of the archduke’s family. 

“I’ll give you whichever you want as a gift. Which do you prefer?”

Rothy looked up at Theon.

“I don’t trust myself to care for one…”

“The trainer here will care for it. You just need to visit often and give it love.”

Rothy pondered for a moment before asking

“Then they won’t be separated from their family?”

“That’s right. They’ll all live here in the estate for life, just like you.”

Rothy turned his attention back to the cradle. He stroked each puppy once, moaning again about how adorable they all were. Just then, Chi-chi stretched out from Rothy’s arms, scurried over to the cradle, and crawled over the puppies while sniffing them.

Scree

Chi-chi stopped above the blackest pup and tapped its small back with its tail. 

“Chi-chi seems to like this one…”

So it seems.”

Theon signalled to the trainer, who then lifted the black puppy. From the back, it was hard to tell, but from the front, its pink belly was plump and round. When the trainer handed it to Rothy, Rothy held it the same way he held the weasel, then looked up at Theon in surprise. 

“This is so fascinating. It’s body doesn’t stretch…”

“They’ve a sturdy and stocky body.”

Theon helped Rothy hold the puppy properly. While he cradled it awkwardly, it woke up from its nap. It looked at Rothy with eyes like black pebbles and made a whining sound while wiggling its bottom.

“Hiiiiiing, so cute~” Rothy whined again. 

The onlookers—Ultje, the trainer, and the knights—felt the same. The puppy was cute and Rothy was cute, and this combination of cuteness with cuteness made it impossible to hold back their soft ‘awwww’. At the same time, they wondered how Theon managed to keep his composure even in this situation. 

“Yes, very cute indeed.”

But when he said this while staring blankly at Rothy, they realised—even the duke was barely holding on.

“Rothy, you should give it a name.”

“How about Hee-hee? Since it makes that sound.”

“That’s a splendid name.”

Actually, the three puppies already had names. They were Leto, Prens, and Blaine. And now, Blaine had become Hee-hee. It was unlike any name the Falsen hunting dogs had ever had. Chi-chi returned to Rothy’s arms and licked the puppy enthusiastically, causing the small creature’s black fur to be covered in saliva.

“Did you name that weasel the same way?”

“Yup!”

“Why Chi-chi? Why wasn’t it Skee-skee?”

“When it was small, it made a ‘chi-chi’ sound while moving around on my palm. It was so cute… I wish you could’ve seen it…”

Chi-chi’s ears perked up at its name before returning to groom the puppy, as if convinced its black fur needed cleaning—it’d soon learn no amount of licking would turn the fur white.

“That weasel’s wary of humans but not animals.”

“Its usually wary. I guess Chi-chi really likes Hee-hee.”

Rothy petted the puppy again and raised his fingers.

“It’s wet…”

When Rothy looked at him, Theon took Rothy’s hand and wiped the weasel’s saliva with his sleeve. The thought of it being dirty never occurred to him. While others stared in disbelief, he kept cleaning Rothy’s fingers meticulously, and moved the puppy from his arms back to its cradle.

“It’s fine now because it’s still small, but Wolfesain grows fast. In three more weeks, it could easily bite through your thin wrist.”

“Really? That’s scary…”

“Always tell me when you want to see it. An adult must accompany you.”

“Yeah. I’ll listen to you. Don’t worry…”

“Good, I know you will. Let’s go now.”

“Where’re we going?”

“The reception room. Starting today, you’ll greet guests by my side.”

“……!”

Rothy clenched his fists.

“Finally! I’ve been working hard on my etiquette lessons. I won’t cause any trouble.”

“I know you won’t.”

Theon looked down at Rothy’s two small fists, which were so cute he wanted to pop them into his mouth and bite them. Worried he might actually do it if he kept looking, he quickly picked Rothy up, and the boy naturally settled into a comfortable position on his arm.

“So you introduced me to the cute puppies to help with my nerves about meeting people. You’re so kind, Theon.”

Rothy rubbed his face against him. His fluffy white hair tickled Theon’s cheek.

“If you ever feel too anxious or nervous, you must tell me. I don’t want to force you to do anything you dislike.”

“Yeah!”

“Things will get busier from now on. If you ever want to rest, just say so.”

“I like being busy. Now we won’t only see each other at night. I’m really happy…”

Suddenly, he could feel cold stares piercing the back of his head. He swallowed a sigh. As he’d said, Rothy became busy. As the archduchess, he’d to familiarise himself with the background of key nobles, merchants, and scholars, building his social connections. As the archmage, he identified and addressed various magical issues accumulated during the war. He also diligently worked to fill in gaps in his basic knowledge, studying history, society, etiquette, literature, art, and music. 

Rothy tried to appear mature when talking to people, but they often looked at him like a cute six-year-old rather than a dignified sixteen-year-old. Rothy blamed himself, thinking it was because of his still-childish way of speaking. But Theon’s aides didn’t blame Rothy. 

They blamed Theon. 

“Your Grace, don’t tell me, you’re planning to appear before people holding Lord Rothy like that again today?” Ultje asked, blocking Theon’s path.

Theon, holding a well-dressed Rothy in his arms, raised an eyebrow as if to ask what the problem was. 

“Lord Rothy may look young, but he’s sixteen. Not only that, but he’ll be receiving his dukedom soon. He’s the same age as Lord Aeruhen. Would you carry Lord Aeruhen around like this?”

“You can’t compare Aeruhen to Rothy.”

“If you want others to see Lord Rothy as a mature person, he needs to sit in a chair during meetings, not on your lap.”

“I’m simply making it clear to everyone he’s under my protection.”

“If you keep carrying him like this, it could lead to… misunderstandings.”

“What misunderstandings? Rothy’s already my consort.” 

“You know that’s not what I mean. People will question Your Grace’s… preferences.”

“Let them misunderstand. Then no one will dare to touch him.”

“It’s a matter of dignit—”

“I don’t care about my dignity.”

“I’m not talking about your dignity, Your Grace. I’m talking about Lord Rothy’s.”

Only then did Theon’s expression change slightly, showing a hint of concern.