Chapter 27. A Bunny Learns the Difference Between Loyalty and Ownership

Chapter 27: 27. A Bunny Learns the Difference Between Loyalty and Ownership

The afternoon crawled by in a haze of fever and bandages.

At one point I decided I was feeling better, and I swung my legs over the side of the bed and stood up.

The room immediately tilted sideways... I try to do one step, but fuck! My knee folded, and I would have gone down hard if Millie hadn’t darted forward and caught me under the arm.

She was a lot stronger than she looked, which I was still learning. She hooked her shoulder under my arm, braced her feet, and held me up with the determined expression of someone who has decided that the floor will not win.

"You are not allowed to be brave right now," she said firmly.

"I wasn’t being brave... I was just going to the bathroom."

"Then... I’ll help you go to the bathroom."

"Oh no! No, nope. nopety-nope! That is absolutely not happening." Well, it’s because my cock is hard right now, and she doesn’t see me peeing with that massive thing, right?

"Then you can’t go to the bathroom."

"Y-you don’t get it... I really... really have to!"

We stood there in a very awkward standoff until Marrow let out a croaking cackle from the corner. "She has a point, boy... Sit down before you hurt yourself."

I sat.

I didn’t say anything for a while, because I’d just remembered what shame felt like.

She fed me soup later, a thin, salty broth with chunks of root vegetable floating in it. I’ll be honest, it wasn’t very good.

It tasted like warm water that had once been introduced to a carrot. But every time I complimented it, Millie’s ears perked up straight, and she gave me a small, pleased smile that she tried and failed to hide.

"It’s delicious," I said around a mouthful of mush. "Seriously... Best soup I’ve ever had!"

"You’re lying..."

"A little... But it’s the best soup that any beastwoman has ever made for a human like me."

She went pink again and ducked her head, and I decided I could keep this up all day just to see how cute she really is.

At some point after that, I fell asleep...

When I woke up, the light in the window had turned golden, and Marrow was gone. Millie was sitting on the floor next to the bed with her head resting on the edge of the mattress.

She had fallen asleep sitting up, one hand still wrapped around a damp cloth, her white hair spilled across the blanket, and her ears twitching gently in her sleep.

I looked at her for a long time...

I thought about all the women I’d known in my old life... and how not a single one of them had ever fallen asleep on the floor next to my bed just because I was sick.

’Don’t screw this up,’ I told myself. ’Just this once, please, don’t screw it up.’

...

When she woke up, we talked.

It started out small, with Millie asking what my favorite food was, and I said fried chicken, and she wanted to know what that was, so I explained.

Then she asked what my old world was like, and I told her about it, the tall buildings and the roaring metal carriages and the glowing screens everybody carried in their pockets, a world with no magic but a hell of a lot of electricity.

I told her about the delivery truck full of stuffed animals, and she laughed so hard that she had to put her hand over her mouth.

"A carriage... full of plush toys," she gasped. "That’s how you died?"

She still doesn’t get what a truck really is, and so she called it a carriage. Like one of those carts where the horse had to pull it.

"I got flattened by a thousand teddy bears."

"That’s the saddest and funniest thing I’ve ever heard." She wiped her eyes, and her laughter slowly changed into something quieter and more fragile.

"Uhm... Leon?"

"Yeah?"

She slid off the chair and onto her knees on the floor beside the bed, folded her hands in her lap, and looked up at me with that terrible, trembling sincerity.

"I want to... fight beside you," she said. "I want to be strong enough to protect you, and I want to serve you for the rest of my life!"

"Please let me have this... I’ll do anything you ask." She lowered her head.

"I’ll even call you..." She swallowed. "I’ll call you master."

The word hit the room like a dropped plate.

What did she just say...?

I sat up so fast that the stitches in my side screamed, and I didn’t care. All the humor drained out of me in one cold rush.

When I spoke, my voice didn’t sound like mine at all. "No."

"A-ahh..." She flinched. "I’m sorry, I didn’t..."

"Millie, listen to me." I leaned forward and held her gaze, and I made sure my voice was steady and clear. "That word belongs to the people who put the collar on you!"

"I’m not going to use it, and I’m not going to let you use it on me either!"

"But I don’t know what else to..."

"Then we’ll find something else! Like a partner, companion, friend, you name it!" I smiled. "Pick whatever you want, or make up a new one."

"But make sure that it isn’t that kind of word!"

She stared at me, wide-eyed. Then slowly, tentatively, her shoulders loosened.

"I can call you... Leon," she said in a small voice.

"That’s a great name... Honestly my favorite." I said that with sarcasm, but then I nodded. "Leon’s good... it’s my name."

"But... I still want to fight with you," she said, and her eyes were wet and bright. "I want to follow you."

"I’m not saying it because I have to... I’m saying it because I chose to."

I let out a long breath. That was a different thing.

And that was the exact opposite of the thing I’d been afraid of.

"Then... I’d be honored to have you fight by my side," I said. "As long as it’s always your choice, and you can change your mind whenever you want if you decide to stop fighting beside me."

She nodded.

Then she hesitated, picking at a thread on her skirt, and added very quietly, "Leon, there’s something else..."

"Whenever I look at you... I feel something, and I don’t know what it is..."

What...? What now...? What is she going to confess to me other than her wanting to call me her master?!

"I want to figure it out... if that’s okay."

I should have said something smooth. I know exactly what the old me would have said, a perfect line, delivered with a smirk.

Instead I just smiled at her, and I said, "I’m really glad you want to figure it out for yourself, Millie."

She smiled back, and it was the best smile I’d ever seen.

Turns out... it didn’t end up like I thought it would.

That’s good. Progress... Character development for me.

...

Elsbeth found me on the porch of the stone house that evening, leaning against the doorframe and watching the sun go down behind the mountains. I was wrapped in a blanket and holding a mug of something Marrow insisted was tea.

And fucking hell... It tasted like a lawn. Or maybe matcha? I hate matcha.

She stopped at the bottom of the steps and looked at me for a while.

Behind me, through the open door, I could see Millie washing out the bandages in a basin, humming under her breath.

"Seems like you attract strays," Elsbeth said.

"Hey! That’s mean! She’s not a stray!"

"I did not say she was..."

"You literally said I attract them."

"Yes... You do."

"So, am I going to find out that you’re a stray too?"

She looked at me with those flat, red, and unreadable eyes. "I am the one who prevents you from dying... It is different."

"Sure it is."

"Do not smile like that."

"I’m not smiling... This is just my face."

She stepped up onto the porch and stood beside me, close enough that I could feel the warmth of her.

For a long minute neither of us said anything. The mountains glowed orange and violet, and a few lights were flickering on in the windows of the city below.

"The message to my clan has been sent," she said at last. "The messenger house here is run by a foxkin family who owe Magnara a debt."

"I do not expect a reply for several days."

"Are you worried?"

"I am always worried." She said it so calmly that it was almost a joke. "That is the nature of being a Wolfkin."

I wanted to say something comforting, but nothing I could think of was good enough. Elsbeth turned her head and looked at me sidelong.

"Magnara wants to speak with you," she said. "Do not be foolish... knowing you, try not to crack any jokes."

"Is it possible for me to be foolish on purpose?"

"You have been doing it for four days."