The Cat Who Weeps in the Dark - Chapter 96

“No. This child is the second one.”

“Then where is the first?”

“Over there, in the crowd…”

The woman turned her head to look at the gathered throng. The mass of people was immense. There was no way she could spot a small child in that sea of bodies.

“Oh dear. Shouldn’t we go look for them?”

“It’s fine. The child is clever and healthy—they’ll know how to wait patiently.”

“Bring the child to me.”

At Helion’s command, Edward vanished into the crowd. Moments later, he reappeared, holding a boy of about seven or eight in his arms.

With practiced ease, he carried the child over to Helion.

“I’ve brought him, Your Highness.”

“Closer.”

Edward presented the boy before Helion. Taking the child into his arms, Helion brushed aside the boy’s hair and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

“Grow strong.”

The onlookers erupted in cheers. Thunderous applause and deafening shouts poured forth.

The child’s eyes sparkled, his face alight with awe. In contrast, the woman holding the newborn wore an inscrutable expression.

She had asked for a blessing for her second child—not the first, who was already healthy and needed no such favor.

Helion dismounted and gently set the boy down. As he strode toward the mother, she—who had been staring at him blankly—hastily bowed her head.

He leaned close, his whisper brushing her ear.

“Instead of the second child, who could die any day, take better care of the first—the one strong enough to survive birth.”

Outwardly, it sounded like tender advice. But beneath it lay a razor’s edge.

His burning golden gaze shifted to the infant. This man is dangerous. The woman’s maternal instincts screamed. She shielded the baby, tucking its face against her chest.

“Th-thank you, Your Highness. Our family will treasure this blessing forever.”

“…Hmph.”

There was no fun in chasing prey that had already surrendered. Helion turned away, his boredom plain. Only then did the woman release the breath she’d been holding, her body prickling with lingering tension.

With fluid grace, Helion remounted his horse.

As the procession resumed, Cheche urged his steed alongside him.

“There it is. I almost believed you’d done something purely kind.”

“Weakness deserves extinction. That’s nature’s law.”

“Right, right. Of course.”

Helion’s words were irrefutable—a universal truth. Yet Cheche glimpsed the warped intent beneath them.

He glanced back. The delegation, now trailing the procession as it entered the palace gates, was too busy scanning their surroundings with hostile eyes to notice.

According to Helion, their primary goal was his elimination. Ending the war? Just a secondary benefit.

“Remember, Cheche. They’re outlaws here to destroy my truth. Regressionists who’d kill the thriving firstborn to coddle the inferior second.”

Cheche’s brown eyes darkened. The hopeful anticipation for peace that had swelled in him days ago deflated like a punctured balloon.

“Yes. Understood.”

He steeled himself. The delegation no longer deserved a welcome. Before him now stood only reapers, scythes in hand.

* * *

Preparing for a banquet was a tedious and complicated affair. For the first time, Katie genuinely felt admiration for the nobility.

‘How on earth do they endure such embarrassing routines?’

She already knew nobles relied on maids and attendants even when bathing. But knowing something intellectually and experiencing it firsthand were entirely different things.

Now, she sat naked in the bathtub, surrounded by impeccably dressed maids.

Mortifying. If not for the flower petals floating on the water, she might have suffocated from sheer shame.

Today, Katie wasn’t Helion’s guard knight—she was his partner. The difference was staggering. By afternoon, a flock of maids had swarmed in, determined to scrub her spotless.

“Goodness, your skin is so smooth! Do you use special treatments?”

“No. I sweat a lot from daily training—that’s probably why.”

“Heavens! No wonder your body is so toned.”

“Oh, hush. Of course it is! Lady Katie is His Highness Helion’s personal guard!”

After the recent bullying incident, most palace servants had been replaced. The new staff treated Katie with deference, sometimes bowing so deeply it bordered on excessive. Rumor must have spread about why their predecessors were dismissed.

“Let’s wash your hair now.”

“Ah, I can handle my hair myself.”

Katie refused with an awkward smile. She had to dye her hair regularly—but she couldn’t exactly leave the palace daily to buy more dye. As a workaround, she used a special ink-laced soap, though its effects barely lasted a day. To keep her natural color hidden, she had no choice but to use it daily.