Theodor let go of the fox’s scruff with a thud.
“Don’t trust people too much. Especially humans like me.”
Theodor murmured quietly. He had no intention whatsoever of accepting the fox’s gratitude. Being swayed by those innocent eyes and wasting unnecessary emotions was a luxury.
‘Right. If it’s stupid, it’s easier to use.’
Theodor changed his thinking. If it couldn’t understand words, he shouldn’t instill fear, but put shackles on it instead.
He finished the treatment by forcibly dispersing the last remaining lump of black energy. The fox let out a long sigh of relief and sprawled on the floor.
“Remember this. If you swallow a curse again next time without my permission, I won’t treat you then. I’ll watch you die with your belly bursting alongside the Emperor.”
Theodor stood up and warned coldly. The fox nodded weakly. It meant it understood.
Theodor straightened his clothes and his disheveled expression was nowhere to be found. He put on the mask of a holy priest again and walked toward the door. When he opened the door, he came face to face with Adrian who had been pacing anxiously in the corridor.
“It’s finished. The crisis has passed.”
Adrian entered the room like an arrow. Seeing the fox sleeping exhaustedly on the bed, relief spread across his face, and watching this, Theodor raised only the corners of his mouth in a fishy smile.
Everything had returned to its place again.
The fox was still foolish, and the Emperor was still blind. And the leashes of both were still held in his hands.
That was enough.
***
After Theodor’s visit, the fox’s condition improved noticeably.
The fever that had seemed deadly changed to a mild fever, and its blocked airway opened up. Most importantly, the orb that had been raging madly in its belly became docile. Within the white fence Theodor had put up, the orb slowly and steadily decomposed the curse.
Adrian had pulled a chair next to the bed and was looking at documents. Whenever the fox tossed and turned even a little, he immediately put down the documents and checked its condition.
“Mmm…”
Just then, a small sound came from inside the bundle of blankets.
Adrian shifted his gaze. It was because the black ball of fur caught at the edge of his vision wriggled. The tip of the tail sticking out from under the blanket swished, and soon a disheveled head popped up.
The fox blinked its still drowsy eyes. Unfocused blue eyes wandered through the air before landing precisely on Adrian.
“You’re awake.”
At the low voice, the fox opened its mouth wide and yawned. Its red tongue rolled out and back in. Whether thanks to sleeping soundly or thanks to Theodor’s treatment, its eyes had become much clearer.
The fox stretched and extended its front paws fully. The sound of its claws scratching the bed sheet rustled. Having loosened its stiff body, the fox crawled to the edge of the bed without hesitation.
The distance between the chair where Adrian sat and the bed was barely a span. The fox crossed that gap and leaped onto Adrian’s lap. Then Adrian moved the documents aside and caught the fox in his arms. A heavy weight settled on his thigh.
“You seem to have become quite healthy. Climbing all the way up to my lap.”
He pretended to reproach, but his hand naturally ran down the fox’s spine. The rough fur had become soft again. Liking the texture winding between his fingers, Adrian unconsciously fiddled with the fur.
The fox rested its chin on Adrian’s vest button. The familiar heartbeat resonated in its ear. It had eaten, slept, and the pain had disappeared. There was no more perfect peace in the world than this.
Adrian’s fingers slowly scratched behind the fox’s ear. The fox let out a pleased groan and rubbed its head against his palm. The sensation of the warm, soft ball of fur filling the spaces between his fingers was utterly satisfying. Adrian put down his pen for a moment and looked down at the small creature purring on his lap.
At first, he had considered it just a passing connection. Even when he had picked it up bleeding and collapsed in the forest, he had planned to return it to the forest once treatment was finished. Bringing a beast into the palace was troublesome, and becoming attached was even more of a luxury. If it survived, good; if it died, it couldn’t be helped. He had believed that degree of distance was appropriate.
That’s why he hadn’t even given it a name. The moment you call a name, a relationship forms. Meaning is granted, and responsibility follows. Giving a name to an existence he would someday send away was no different from putting shackles on himself. Just calling it ‘fox’ or ‘that creature’ was sufficient.
But now it was different.
Adrian’s gaze lingered on the tip of the fox’s faintly trembling whiskers. That chilling fear he had felt when this small thing disappeared. The suffocating sleepless nights he had to endure in the empty room. That wasn’t simply the sense of loss of an owner who had lost a pet. This creature had already taken root deep in his life.
He no longer had any thought of returning it to the forest. The creature had to be here. Where his eyes could reach, at a distance his hands could touch.
“Fox.”
Adrian called. The fox perked up its ears and raised its head. Its blue eyes shone transparently.
‘Fox.’
That designation suddenly grated on him.
There are many foxes in this world. In the forest, and in books. Calling it simply by a word designating its species seemed to deny the uniqueness this creature possessed.
You are not just one among countless foxes in the world. You are the existence that gives me my only peace.
So it needed a proper name. A name that others couldn’t call, that only he could grant and call.
Adrian tapped the fox’s nose bridge with his index finger.
“You need a name.”
A name. At that word, the fox’s eyes sparkled.
Adrian rested his chin and fell into thought for a moment. What should he name it? The creature’s fur was black like night and its eyes were blue like dawn. A too grandiose name wouldn’t suit it. The creature was a small, quirky troublemaker. A name that was easy to call, that rolled around the mouth, and contained the creature’s color would be good.
The peaceful nights the fox had brought him flashed through his mind. The deep, sweet darkness that came after ending terrible insomnia.
“Nox.”
Adrian uttered quietly. The fox’s ear twitched. It was an unfamiliar sound. But because Adrian’s voice was soft, the fox swished its tail.
“Nox. How is it?”
Nox. The sound wasn’t bad. But not knowing what it meant, the fox tilted its head.
“It means night.”
Night. And darkness. It might be an object of fear for some, but for Adrian it was the time of rest he had most desperately longed for. This black fox had returned the night to him, so the creature itself was Adrian’s ‘night.’
“Do you like it?”
That name harmonizing with Adrian’s low voice was soft and intimate. But the fox tilted its head. The tip of its tail drooped subtly downward.
Nox. Nooox.
The fox rolled that unfamiliar sound around in its mouth again.
Night?
It didn’t like the meaning. Night was quiet and calm, and above all, wasn’t it dark? The fox thought it wasn’t such a static existence.
It was a brave warrior that chewed up the pitch-black lumps of curse tormenting Adrian. A guardian protecting the Emperor who had survived swallowing that terrible poison.
So it should be a stronger, more dignified name. A name that made your knees go weak and your fur stand on end when you heard it.
“Kyut!”
The fox barked shortly and firmly. It meant it didn’t like it. One of Adrian’s eyebrows rose.
“You don’t like it?”
Correct. The fox nodded its head vigorously. Its ears flapped.
“Then what do you want?”
Instead of answering, the fox stood up abruptly on Adrian’s lap. Then it puffed out its chest as much as possible. It bristled its fur to make itself look as large as possible and raised its chin. It put strength into its front paws and pressed down on Adrian’s thigh firmly.
‘Look carefully. I’m this strong.’
The fox scratched its throat and made a growling sound to look like a fierce beast. Although it was closer to a purring cat sound than a beast’s roar, the fox’s expression was resolute.
Adrian quietly watched that ridiculous—no, resolute—performance. Its hind legs straining with all their might trembled.
What is it doing, right now?
The problem was that Adrian didn’t know what the fox’s behavior meant. It seemed to be striking some kind of pose, but he couldn’t understand what it meant at all.
Seeing that Adrian hadn’t caught on, the fox looked around. Just then, it spotted the golden lion statue placed on his bookshelf. A lion roaring while its mane billowed, symbolizing the imperial authority.
That’s it.
The fox extended its front paw and pointed at the lion statue. And once again puffed out its chest and pretended to growl.
Adrian’s gaze followed the fox’s paw tip toward the bookshelf. There sat a lion statue made of pure gold. The form of a fierce beast with billowing mane and raised front paw. It was an object symbolizing imperial authority and might.
He lowered his gaze again to look at the creature on his lap.
A black, round beast with fluffy fur. An appearance closer to a ball of fur than a fierce beast. And now it was pointing at that lion statue, claiming it also wanted such a dignified name.
“Lion?”
The fox nodded its head vigorously. Yes, lion. King of the forest. The apex predator that makes other animals tremble. The fox’s eyes sparkled with anticipation that it would soon have a dignified name like a lion.
The corners of Adrian’s mouth rose crookedly.
“That’s preposterous.”
