24: Chapter 13.2 Ways to Please the Master!
(Or Not) 24: Chapter 13.2 Ways to Please the Master!
(Or Not) Of course, the relief lasted three seconds.
What Piel pulled from her bosom was a round metal tray.
She stood on two legs, offering it politely like a tribute, eyes sparkling.
“Now, let’s play ‘frisbee’!” “…Frisbee?” Piel shook the tray excitedly in both hands as she explained.
“Dad always took a frisbee when going on walks with Mom!
He said throwing it to make her chase and turn around was the most fun!” “Ah, um…
I see…” A frisbee toss to show backsides during a ‘vigorous walk’ sweaty enough for snowy mountains.
…Is my imagination too lewd?
Yeah, definitely.
My thoughts wandered, but for the innocent joy of the surviving child, I played dumb.
“By the way, this is more tray than frisbee, isn’t it?
From the kitchen?” “Yes!
There were no frisbees in the mansion, so I went to the kitchen and said it was ‘needed for the master,’ and they rushed over and gave it to me!” And the head chef bastard in the meantime…
After getting stomped on the instep, his efficiency shot up 200%.
Anyway, now I was about to play frisbee like a pet owner with a beastkin kid.
The mansion stares would get even colder, but what’s it matter when they’ve already hit rock bottom.
“Alright, let’s do it.” “Yes, Master!” Piel lowered herself to all fours again.
Her tail waved like ocean waves, full of anticipation.
I threw the metal tray as far as I could with all my strength.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ Piel was running harder than ever.
On all fours, panting, tail whipping like the wind.
How long had it been?
Since she could run freely like this, without suppressing her beastly instincts, following her heart.
Mom always emphasized one thing.
Beastkin aren’t beasts; they’re people, so crawling on all fours should be avoided.
That’s how you grow into a fine beastkin.
But at other times, she said something different.
“Still, if a man comes along who makes your tail wag on its own and you want to run on all fours that badly…
you don’t have to hide it in front of him.” Piel had asked.
“Mom, how do you know when it’s that man?” “Hehe…
You’ll know naturally when you grow up, Piel.
Even if you don’t want to, your ‘lower belly’ will rumble and send the signal.” She hadn’t understood back then.
What ‘lower belly rumbling’ meant.
But now, she felt like she knew all too well.
The master who didn’t discard her even covered in dirt, called her family instead of slave, bathed with her in warm water instead of a cold bucket, and ate at eye level on the floor.
Thinking of such a Lucas made Piel’s lower belly truly rumble.
Painfully, hotly, stuffily.
And…
Piel came to a quick conclusion.
‘Ah, so this is the signal…
The lower belly rumbling means my tummy’s happy from Master buying so much delicious meat!’ The pure interpretation unique to an innocent girl firmly believing it couldn’t mean anything else.
So Piel kept running on all fours.
Chasing the flying tray overhead, as if her whole life aimed for it.
Mouth open, tail wagging, with the face of a slave, a pet, and the most excited beastkin female in the world.
She thought this happy time would last forever.
Really.
Then, in that moment— Whoosh.
“Gasp!
The tray went into the bushes.” Piel had been fetching the tray Lucas threw in five seconds flat, like a hunting dog in training.
She was so eager it was shredding his arm instead.
So this time, to give his arm a real break, he threw it farther, over the annex boundary and deep into the bushes.
Piel picked up the tray from between the gently rustling bushes.
And right as she turned to head back.
“Oh my…
oh my oh my oh my!” “Hm?” A sudden shadow appeared.
And footsteps approaching briskly.
Before Piel could look up in surprise, soft white hands ‘squished’ her cheeks.
“So cute!
What is this?
Did the Argent family have a maid like this?” The girl kneaded Piel’s cheeks every which way, gushing admiration like she couldn’t hold it in.
“My god…
hair color fresh like an orange, eyes sparkling like dewdrops…
ears fluffy and soft…
aaah, too pretty!” “H-Hueee…?” “Cute enough to shock me!
I want to raise this kid myself?
What’s your name?
Whose slave are you?” She had sapphire-blue eyes shining like gems and a matching rose ornament in her hair, looking just like a princess from a fairy tale.
Piel couldn’t help thinking so; she was that beautiful.
But.
Anyone who knew this girl’s true identity could never stop at just ‘cute.’ Because she was one of the next formal heir candidates of the Argent family, which managed the kingdom’s ‘darkness’—the fourth daughter, one year older than Lucas.
Syl Argent.