[Whether of low status or not even human, what does it matter? When it inflames the night with such heat. The knight supports the mistress’s waist and…]
Thud!
“What kind of book are you reading?”
“…Nothing.”
Carol put the book back and quietly sat beside the Duke. Her face felt unnecessarily flushed.
Carol leaned her face against the back of the sofa. The cool sensation of the sofa felt nice.
Soon, Carol turned her head towards the Duke, her gaze directed above his head.
Noah had boastfully recounted everything he did when Carol wasn’t around, asking if she knew.
She had thought the effects of the wine wore off, but making such impulsive remarks suggested otherwise.
“Can I touch them too?”
“…Touch what?”
“The horns. Noah boasted that he got to touch them earlier.”
Sounding a bit dejected, the Duke lowered his head towards Carol.
“You have the right to touch them anytime, teacher.”
“…You shouldn’t carelessly say things like that.”
“It’s not a careless remark. I said it because you’re the teacher.”
“You still shouldn’t say such things to me so easily.”
“It’s not something I said easily either.”
“……”
She didn’t understand why he would so easily make remarks that could be taken the wrong way. She realized it meant he trusted her that much as his teacher.
She should be more than touched that a student trusted her words, yet somehow it felt unsatisfying.
But feelings aside, actually touching was different. Carol reached out her hand.
Tap.
Her fingertips met the horns.
The horns, which looked sturdy and solid, were a bit colder than expected.
She had touched them as a sparrow, but the sensation of the horns on human skin was quite different.
She could vividly feel the texture of the horns.
“You in particular should be careful about carelessly saying you want to touch things elsewhere.”
“…I don’t say such things elsewhere either.”
“Just to me then?”
For some reason, Carol couldn’t stand it anymore and quickly pulled her hand back.
“That’s…”
“I’d prefer if your answer was ‘Yes, just to you.'”
The density of the air grew heavier. This really was troublesome.
Each time the dense air filled her lungs, her chest felt tighter.
[Do you…like the Duke?]
The question Louis had posed to her came back to her.
And she didn’t know why this question suddenly surfaced.
“…What do you think about beastmen, Your Grace?”
“Beastmen?”
For a brief moment, she had forgotten how poorly beastmen are viewed, due to the people around her who think well of them.
How could she have had the naive, foolish thought that the Duke would view beastmen positively?
“What do you mean by that?” The Duke’s sharp response made Carol belatedly explain herself.
“They say beastmen can turn into humans.”
Her face felt hot.
It implied that she held the key to the method of transforming into a human.
But it felt like she was appealing to him that she was acceptable.
However, the Duke seemed to understand it differently.
“I see.”
“You knew?”
“There was an attempt generations ago to forcibly interbreed humans and beastmen.”
“…Huh?”
It was an ugly history of treating those with ducal titles worse than livestock.
“It was due to the thought that the offspring may eventually become human.”
“……”
“But as you can see, it failed.”
This was not mentioned in the novels.
“…That’s not what I meant…”
She simply wanted to ask what he thought of her.
“No, I don’t suppose so,” he muttered, not elaborating further, not wanting to make the atmosphere heavy.
“I simply dislike it.”
He simply did not wish to become a mere stud to continue such a lineage.
The Duke hoped his meaning was conveyed to Carol.
The reason he disliked being told to treat Margaret well, and disliked the question about beastmen, was because of his feelings for Carol.
Carol stood there frozen.
Unable to understand the Duke’s true feelings, Carol took his words in completely the opposite way.
‘So he means he dislikes beastmen.’
The word “dislike” pierced her painfully. Carol’s chin trembled.
In truth, she had noticed it. She had just desperately wanted to deny it.
‘When did developing feelings also mean getting rejected!’
There were countless reasons why she shouldn’t have feelings.
Because there was already a male and female lead in the original story.
Because he was a Duke and she was a commoner.
Because they were teacher and student.
She had enumerated the countless reasons it couldn’t be, but only now realized that the very act of listing those reasons meant she had already fallen too deep to simply keep her distance.
Unbeknownst to herself, she must have thought ‘what if’, since the Duke was so kind to her.
But to the Duke trapped in winter, she was simply the sole flame, so he was just being kind.
She had inscribed in her heart that his affectionate words were mere lip service, yet gradually became immersed in that affection.
“Teacher?”
“…Yes.”
Her lips had stiffened, so her response was delayed.
“Isn’t it almost time for the lesson to end?”
Only then did the Duke’s words bring Carol to her senses.
“…Let’s head back now.”
It felt like ice cold water had been dumped over her. Her uplifted mood was instantly washed away.
She didn’t know in what state of mind she returned home.
****
She dreamed of when she stayed at the Duke’s Mansion, injured like a wounded bird.
I should leave once I can fly.
Since treating the injury costs money, I should leave once fully healed so it doesn’t fester.
But what if there are issues after healing? I should stay a bit longer.
She kept making more and more excuses to extend her stay little by little.
Staying at the Duke’s Mansion was comfortable. She could set all her worries aside.
Was that all there was to it?
After the Duke learned she disliked insects, Carol mostly ate dried fruit, but on the rare occasions fresh fruit appeared, Carol could happily sprawl on her back, drumming her belly with her wings.
Naturally, Carol began living in sync with his lifestyle.
Not because she deliberately tried, but because the Duke would be restless if she fell asleep while he was awake.
[Are you really sleeping?]
[What if the injury has worsened?]
[I should call the doctor.]
Seeing Carol sound asleep made the Duke anxious.
He would hold her close to his ear, poke at her beak to check if she was breathing, staying up all night checking if her injury had worsened – leaving Carol no choice but to wake up.
[Chirp!] (Quit it!)
When Carol would kick the Duke’s palm irritatedly with her legs, only then would the Duke settle down and put her back, reassured.
The Duke truly cherished his little friend. Thanks to his attentive care, she plumped up nicely.
No one ever came to visit the Duke, so the daily routine was monotonously dull. It didn’t take long for Carol to fully grasp the Duke’s every move.
The only ones who visited the Duke’s room were Mrs. Wells and Norman.
The Duke let out a languid sigh as he gently stroked the motionless Carol in his hand.
[It would have been nice if you were human.]
[……]
[No…then we may have never met.]
The dimly lit interior looked disheveled, as if uninhabited by humans.
The Duke lay on the only undamaged bed.
Carol, on her dedicated cushion beside him, stared at him before flapping her wings.
The Duke’s days were extremely monotonous.
With his beastly appearance, he could not go out, and being blind, he could not venture far.
His activities were severely limited.
Glancing outside, the sun had completely set.
[Chirp.] (It’s past time to get up.)
At Carol’s chirp, the Duke opened his eyes. He roused his unmoving body.
[Now that I think about it, I didn’t air out the room today.]
[Chirp.]
Though she didn’t ask for it, airing out wasn’t bad, so Carol chirped briefly and stayed still.
Now used to it, the Duke rose from his seat, cushion with Carol in hand.
Opening the window let the crisp night air rush in.
The one who needed the ventilation was the Duke himself, as the stale air was stifling him.
She looked up at the Duke, alone gazing sightlessly out the window. The Duke, staring blankly, seemed to sense Carol’s presence and gently stroked her head.
[Yes, another day passes like this.]
The Duke would often mutter to Carol, his sole friend.
[Chirp!]
Carol flapped her wings and playfully nipped at the dejected Duke’s fur with her beak.
[Trying to console me?]
[Chirp chirp!] (No!)
It was closer to scolding than consoling.
Though Carol had donned a human guise, she knew far more monstrous humans.
Humans who carelessly conducted searches when lives were lost, claiming it was too much trouble. People who knew the family patriarch could not easily quit, so they deliberately mistreated him.
To Carol, those were the truly monstrous beings.
Knock knock.
Lost in recollecting her past experiences at the Duke’s Mansion, Carol was jolted from her reverie by the knocking sound.
The only ones who could enter this room were Mrs. Wells or Norman, but on rare occasions, another servant like Mary would come to the door.
