She’d planned to casually ask why they’d crawled their way into the Basilian County as well.
That’s why she had come to where they were supposed to be…
“So this kind of place really exists, huh.”
She had ended up in the underground prison.
Though she had secretly marked Morgan as prey behind Ishuel’s back, the mark must have been damaged—she couldn’t pinpoint the exact location.
It seemed she was close by, so she’d have to look for them herself.
The pitch-dark prison had torches here and there, but visibility was still poor.
Cheshire, glancing around, wrinkled her nose at the acrid smell of blood.
She took out a butterfly and placed it on her head, then bit down on a flower bloom with her mouth.
The butterfly cloaked her presence, while the flower purified the air.
Breathing became much easier with the floral scent.
Holding the flower in her mouth, Cheshire toddled off in search of Morgan and the one-eyed man.
“Ugh…”
As she trudged on, she let out a small, disgruntled noise.
The deeper she went, the stronger the stench became.
It wasn’t just the smell of blood anymore—there was also the reeking stench of rotting flesh.
Grrrrhhh…
A faint moan drifted through the air like wind.
It came from someone imprisoned in the dungeon.
The moan, soaked in pain and despair, instinctively stirred fear in anyone who heard it.
If it had been any ordinary person, they would’ve sensed the hell etched into that moan, trembled all over, and crawled away on all fours in terror.
But of course, that didn’t apply to Cheshire, the brave fairy.
After walking diligently for some time, she finally located her targets.
Confirming their presence through the prison bars, Cheshire’s mouth dropped open.
The flower she had been holding between her teeth fell to the floor with a soft plop.
“What the heck! My prey!”
She had come all this way to teach them a lesson, and yet the targets had already been reduced to mere hunks of meat.
Cheshire scowled deeply as she looked over Morgan and the one-eyed man.
They were so mangled, there wasn’t a single intact spot on them.
The blood still oozing from their unhealed wounds had pooled on the floor.
Whoever interrogated them must’ve had a particularly cruel disposition.
She suddenly wondered if the one-eyed man’s remaining eye was still intact, but there was no way to know unless she forced him awake.
“They’re worse off than me.”
Muttering curses at whoever was more wicked than a witch, Cheshire pouted her lips.
She briefly considered casting a fairy illusion, but gave up.
They were already out of their minds, so even if she used an illusion for interrogation, she wouldn’t get anything meaningful.
Should’ve come sooner.
Letting out a deep sigh, Cheshire lamented her late arrival.
She thought she might as well give up and head back.
That was when it happened.
“…!”
A chill ran down her spine.
A voice whispered right next to her ear.
“Smells like flowers.”
So startled, she jumped on the spot.
Cheshire turned around in a flash, hair standing on end.
There was a boy crouched down, knees bent.
His curly hair was a wild mix of red and gold.
His eyes, slanted like a cat’s, gleamed red.
Just from those symbolic eyes, she immediately recognized who he was.
The second son of House Basilian—Karha Basilian.
But when did he get so close?
She hadn’t sensed him approach at all.
While Cheshire stared at him with wide, flustered eyes, he kept sniffing the air.
The sharp canines barely visible between his slightly parted lips were unusually pointed.
Karha twitched his nose and muttered again.
“What is this? It really smells like flowers.”
Still sniffing, he reached out a hand.
His groping fingers stirred through the air.
Every time his hand brushed close, Cheshire dodged with sharp, swift movements.
She opened her eyes wide.
He shouldn’t be able to see anything.
But he reached toward her exact location.
The way he moved as if he could see her made her heart pound violently.
It was pure animal instinct.
After flailing his arms a bit, the boy suddenly stopped.
“…Oh.”
Karha picked something up from the floor.
It was a yellow gerbera flower.
A fresh and vibrant bloom that didn’t belong in a dank underground prison.
Karha picked up the flower, tilted his head, and sniffed it.
‘Ack!’
Cheshire screamed internally.
She had dropped it after holding it in her mouth earlier—and he had picked it up.
Thankfully, he didn’t seem to suspect an intruder.
Karha, puzzled for a moment, simply put the flower into his pocket.
‘Well, yeah, what kind of intruder would leave behind a flower…’
Cheshire broke out in a cold sweat as she began to back away.
Fairy magic is flashy.
With flowers, butterflies, and sparkles bursting everywhere, it wasn’t exactly suitable for stealth.
She needed to get out of Karha’s line of sight first.
Once she found a hiding spot, she planned to immediately use her powers to teleport to the bedroom.
But things didn’t go as planned.
Because Karha started stealthily following the retreating Cheshire.
Thus began a strange chase between Cheshire and Karha.
The underground prison had a peculiar spiral structure.
Shaped like a coiled snake, it was designed so that getting from the tail—the farthest end—to the head—the exit—took a long time.
Morgan and the one-eyed man were imprisoned near the body, close to the head.
The exit wasn’t far; if she had an adult-sized body, escape would have been quick.
But with Cheshire’s short legs, it took a while.
And during that entire while, Karha tirelessly chased after her.
Even after she finally escaped the dungeon and made it into the garden, the pursuit continued.
‘Aaaagh! Why is he so persistent!’
At this rate, there would be no end to it.
Wandering through the midnight garden, Cheshire looked around.
The Serpent’s Castle had a barren garden.
Unlike typical noble families who planted seasonal flowers, here the only plants were randomly sprouted weeds.
Only the green evergreens and carefully trimmed shrubs barely gave the impression that this was, in fact, a garden.
Cheshire picked up a small pebble and threw it in the opposite direction.
It landed in the bushes with a soft rustle.
While Karha’s attention was diverted, she quickly hid behind the fountain.
In a flash, she erased the flower scent and removed the butterfly from her head, revealing herself.
Karha, having searched through the bushes, tilted his head in confusion.
“Nothing here…”
Muttering to himself, the boy began walking toward the fountain.
Cheshire cautiously peeked out her head.
Karha’s eyes grew wide when he spotted the baby.
The gentle sound of water trickling from the fountain filled the quiet nighttime garden.
Water droplets splashing around the fountain sparkled in the moonlight like crushed jewels.
Beneath those glittering drops sat the small Cheshire, locking eyes with Karha.
“……”
Karha stared intently at Cheshire, not even blinking.
Then suddenly, the boy stepped in close and snatched Cheshire up with one hand.
“Gyaaah!”
Like grabbing a toy out of a claw machine, he held her up and brought her right up to his face.
“You’re a new little sibling, huh?”
He had looked dangerous from the beginning—and sure enough, he acted like a complete wild beast.
Cheshire tried to communicate with the wild cub.
“Hewwo. I’m Che-sha.”
The boy smirked.
His lips curled into a grin, revealing his sharp canines.
“Well, would you look at that. The tiny thing can talk?”
“Yes. I can tawk.”
“Go on, say something.”
Just like Ishuel, who always asked to see if her tongue was real—they really were twins.
Cheshire answered just as he wanted.
“Talk talk talk talk.”
Karha burst out laughing.
Amused by who knows what, he looked thoroughly entertained as he playfully shook Cheshire up and down.
“But why are you here?”
“I got wost.”
“Babies these days wander around alone at night?”
“Yes. I wanted to go to my woom but I didn’t know how.”
Swaying in his hand, Cheshire brazenly pretended to be a lost child.
Her excuse was a little flimsy, so she added something even more absurd.
“I’m a knight.”
Karha gave a low hmm and smiled slyly, as if he already knew everything.
He placed Cheshire down on the ground.
Then he fished into his pocket and pulled out the gerbera flower, now slightly wilted.
Tapping Cheshire’s head with the flower, he asked,
“This yours?”
Cheshire reached out her short arms and covered her head with her hands.
“Nope.”
“Really?”
“Really weally.”
While the two squabbled back and forth—
Karha’s red eyes flicked toward somewhere deep in the darkness.
“…What the.”
His face suddenly went expressionless.
Then came a cold voice, colder than anything Cheshire had heard from him before.
“Where’s that damn mutt smell coming from?”
No way.
Cheshire gasped.
Hata, Cheshire’s subordinate, was a beastkin of the dog tribe.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ✧: *. ꕥ .* :✧ﾟ. ───
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