The baron was utterly defeated.
Elizabeth's sharp wit and the twins' cheeky remarks left him grasping for control. Though he wanted nothing more than to see at least one of his daughters married off, forcing the matter would only backfire.
In hindsight, Elizabeth's suggestion wasn't entirely unreasonable. Rather than pouring resources into debuting her in the capital's cutthroat social scene, it might be wiser to find a skilled knight nearby and bring him into the family as a consort.
As he began to entertain this alternative, the atmosphere shifted. There was tension brewing, and the baron couldn't shake the unease that had begun to gnaw at him.
Turning to Michael, he asked, "When will you be moving to the castle?"
"Two or three days should be enough to prepare," Michael replied with a calm confidence.
At least his last remaining son was cooperative, even if the baron knew that cooperation had come at a steep financial cost.
Once the baron and his family returned to the castle, Clara eagerly helped Michael pack.
Knowing she and Henry would be accompanying him, her excitement was palpable.
She hummed a light tune as she folded clothes and organized belongings, her joy infectious.
Michael couldn't help but smile at her enthusiasm. This time, returning to the castle would be different. No longer an outsider, Michael was the heir—and the family's investment in securing his goodwill extended to those he cared about.
The morning's funeral and Alfred's cryptic words echoed in his mind: "I'll ensure you claim everything that's rightfully yours."
Moving into the castle with his aunt and uncle was the first step in realizing that promise.
Once packing was done, Michael grabbed his sword and bow to head outside.
Strength and skill were paramount, especially now. In a land rife with territorial disputes and tribal skirmishes, an heir who couldn't defend his claim would be devoured.
Determined to excel, Michael practiced until his muscles ached and his breath came in gasps. The effort left him proud, the satisfaction of improvement radiating through him.
As he returned to the house, he was greeted by an unexpected sight: Clara playing with a kitten in the living room.
The tiny black cat, adorned with a red ribbon, batted at its own tail with playful enthusiasm.
"Where'd the cat come from?" Michael asked, intrigued.
"I found her while hanging laundry. She wobbled over to me, poor thing, so I gave her some milk. She was so hungry! I think she's just a kitten and might have lost her mother. Isn't she adorable? I thought we could keep her."
The kitten, as if understanding the conversation, tilted her head and let out a soft meow.
"Meow?"
Michael laughed. "She's a cute one, all right. Can I hold her?"
Clara handed over the kitten, who fit snugly in Michael's hands. Her fur was impossibly soft, like silk, and her weight felt oddly substantial for such a small creature.
"She's so light," Michael said, stroking her gently as she stretched lazily in his arms.
"Have you named her yet?"
"Not yet. Would you like to?"
"How about Nyangnyang? She meows so much, it seems fitting—ow!"
The kitten, as if offended, extended her claws and scrambled up Michael's shoulder.
"She likes it!" Michael declared, laughing as the kitten perched and purred.
"Look! She's wagging her tail. That means she's happy, right?"
Clara hesitated. "I think... I've heard cats wag their tails when they're annoyed..."
Michael shrugged. "She's just playful. Aren't you, Nyangnyang?"
Despite her doubts, Clara didn't press the issue. If Nyangnyang brought Michael joy, that was enough.
To her surprise, Alfred welcomed the kitten as well. He even instructed them to feed her meat and fresh milk daily.
Nyangnyang quickly made herself at home, following Michael wherever he went. At night, she curled up at his feet, her warmth a comforting presence.
While Michael slept, Nyangnyang slipped out to find Alfred.
Her emerald eyes glinted in the moonlight as she confronted him.
"You heard him!" she hissed.
Alfred, calm as ever, merely raised an eyebrow. "Heard what?"
"My name! He dared to call me Nyangnyang!"
Alfred's lips twitched, but he suppressed his laughter. "It's a charming name."
"Charming? It's humiliating! Tell him my real name or I'm leaving!"
Alfred's expression hardened. "You signed a contract, Sphinx. Or have you forgotten the meat, milk, and gold you've received?"
The kitten, bristling with indignation, hissed again. "It's Neferteri Hatshepsut Sphinx, not Nyangnyang! Do you understand how degrading this is?"
"And yet here you are, meowing. It suits you."
Her hissing turned into a full-blown snarl. "That's a racial trait, not my choice!"
Alfred's rare chuckle echoed in the quiet forest.
As the moon hung high, Michael slept soundly, blissfully unaware of the drama surrounding his new companion.
The next day, Michael entered the castle with a black cat perched haughtily on his shoulder. Attempts to remove the feline were futile, as it bared its claws and growled threateningly whenever disturbed.
Clara and Henry accompanied him. They had agreed to use the castle's basement for their work when necessary. Since the previous executioners had also conducted their tasks within the castle, no special preparations were required.
Arriving at the castle in their carriage, they were greeted by the butler and head maid, who guided them to their respective rooms. Michael's accommodations were better than during his previous visits. Located on the third floor, his room overlooked the training grounds and had multiple windows, making it both spacious and well-ventilated.
After inspecting Clara's and Henry's quarters and finding them satisfactory, Michael nodded with approval. It was clear that the treatment they received had noticeably improved.
Sometime later, the butler escorted Michael to the baron's office. The baron stood with his hands clasped behind his back, gazing out the window.
"You've arrived just in time. But what's with the cat?" he asked.
Michael explained the situation, prompting the baron to add, "Well, keeping a pet is fine, but don't let it interfere with your training. Now that you're fully immersed in the noble world, there are some things you must keep in mind. The political situation within and around our castle is very complicated. You're aware that our territory, along with five others, recently separated from the Earl of Barkley, aren't you?