Chapter 387: The Cat’s Return

Chapter 386: The Cat’s Return

Lyria’s POV

I frowned.

My heart quickened as I turned towards the door, every muscle in my body tensing instinctively. The tap had been soft—barely more than the touch of a fingernail against wood—yet in the profound stillness of the chamber, it had sounded to me like a thunderclap.

Kathryn, however, remained composed.

She merely lifted her head, listening.

"There is only one scent beyond the door," she said calmly. "It is Phineas. I am quite certain of it. He has perhaps observed something that warranted warning us."

I nodded, though my heart continued to beat rather too quickly against my ribs.

The tap came again.

This time, there was a certain urgency to it.

Kathryn immediately began gathering her things.

She was remarkably efficient. The vial disappeared into her satchel, followed by the remainder of her instruments. She closed the clasps and drew her cloak about herself.

"It would appear," she said, "that our visit has come to an end."

I nodded.

Yet I did not move.

Instead, I watched her.

There was something I wished to ask, and I had the distinct impression that she already knew what it was.

"D-do you k-know?" I asked.

Kathryn paused.

For a moment, she merely regarded me.

Then the faintest smile touched her lips.

It was not an unkind smile.

"It is not particularly difficult to discern, Your Highness."

My stomach tightened.

Kathryn adjusted the strap of her satchel upon her shoulder.

"After all, I am your physician. The injuries were something of a giveaway."

I swallowed.

"I th-thought I h-hid it rather w-well," I admitted quietly.

"You did." Her answer came without hesitation. "Indeed, had I not been attending to you personally, I might not have noticed. But as a physician I notice what others may not."

"It takes you considerably longer to heal than one of our kind would require, even when provided external assistance. There are discrepancies in the manner in which your body responds to injury."

I lowered my gaze.

Kathryn continued, her voice gentle but matter-of-fact.

"The injuries beneath your skin have always been evidence of that. Your body does not recover in the manner it ought to." She paused. "Hence why I have repeatedly instructed Your Highness to take better care of herself."

There was a faint note of reproach in her voice.

I almost smiled.

It was rather strange to be reprimanded by someone who was presently helping me sneak through the palace in the middle of the night.

"Y-you always say t-that."

"And I shall continue to say it until you develop the good sense to listen."

I glanced at her.

Kathryn’s expression remained stern for a moment.

Then it softened.

"I must admit, however, that knowing this has not altered my opinion of you. You remain precisely the same person you were yesterday, Your Highness. You are still the young woman who works herself into exhaustion, and possesses a rather unfortunate tendency to throw herself into danger. Whether you possess a wolf spirit or not does not alter that."

My throat tightened. I did not know what to say to that.

Kathryn reached up and drew her hood over her head.

Another tap sounded at the door and she glanced towards it.

"We ought to go."

I nodded.

Before leaving, however, I turned towards the bed taking in my mother’s features one last time before turning away.

I crossed the chamber and opened the door.

Phineas was standing beyond it.

The moment he saw us, the tension in his shoulders eased.

"Your Highness," he breathed, lowering his voice. "I confess, I was beginning to fear something had happened."

"We are f-fine," I assured him. "Let us g-go."

Phineas inclined his head.

"Of course."

He did not question us.

He never did when discretion was required.

We moved swiftly through the corridor, keeping close to the shadows. Our footsteps were deliberately quiet against the cold stone floor.

The torches along the walls had burned low.

Their flames cast long, wavering shadows across the corridor.

We had just turned a corner filled with shadows when I heard footsteps.

I stopped immediately.

Phineas raised one hand.

We pressed ourselves into the darkness beside the wall.

A guard appeared at the far end of the corridor.

He walked directly towards the wing where my mother was kept.

I did not need to ask to know that this was why Phineas had warned us.

My heart began to pound again.

The guard looked exhausted rather than suspicious. His shoulders sagged beneath his uniform, and his expression carried the dull weariness of a man who had spent too many hours awake.

As he passed, he yawned.

He did not notice us.

Not once.

Only after his footsteps had faded into the distance did we quietly exhale before continuing on our way.

Even after reaching the wing where my chambers were situated, we did not immediately remove our cloaks. There was little sense in risking an unnecessary question from a servant or guard who happened to cross our path.

We proceeded quietly, our pace measured but swift.

Then I stopped.

Something was sitting in the middle of the corridor.

A black cat which looked utterly out of place.

It turned its head towards us.

Then—

"Meow."

I stared at it. There was something familiar about it. The sleek black fur. The gleaming eyes.

The manner in which it regarded us as though we were the ones trespassing upon its territory.

Phineas glanced at me before slowly lowering himself into a crouch.

"Allow me, Your Highness. I do not know how it managed to get here."

He extended one hand.

The cat hissed.

Its back rose at once, its fur bristling as though it had suddenly doubled in size.

Phineas withdrew his hand.

"I beg your pardon." He said. "Still as justice as before."

Kathryn studied the creature with narrowed eyes.

"Do you know this cat?" She asked as she

crouched carefully and extended a hand.

The response was immediate.

The cat hissed.

Its claws emerged.

Kathryn nevertheless attempted to pick it up and the cat scratched her hand.

She withdrew sharply.

A thin line of blood appeared across her skin.

"We do," Phineas said answering her question.

Kathryn examined the scratch with the resignation of someone accustomed to considerably worse injuries.

"The creature appears to possess strong opinions."

The cat continued to glare at her.

I could not help thinking that its expression was rather insulting.

Then to my surprise, it turned towards me.

Its ears shifted.

Its tail lowered.

It took one cautious step in my direction.

Then another.

I remained perfectly still until it stopped before me.

We stared at one another.

There was something in its gaze.

Something familiar.

Almost as though it recognised me.

More strangely still, I had the distinct impression that it was calling to me with something I could not quite name.

I slowly lowered myself into a crouch.

"Come here," I whispered, extending my hand.

The cat’s ears twitched.

It did not hiss.

Instead, it stepped forward.

And finally, it pressed its head into my palm.

I froze.

The tension seemed to leave its body entirely.

I gently stroked its head and it purred. A soft, contented sound filled the corridor.