Chapter 34: The Mysterious Egg

“…Kyuu?”

In my hands, the small gray creature tilted its head.

Round, innocent eyes.

A moist little nose.

And on its back were undeveloped, wing-like protrusions.

It looked like a lizard… but it was oddly charming.

Calling it a dragon would be a stretch—it was far too small, with no dignity to speak of.

“Just what are you, exactly?”

When I gently stroked its head with my fingertip, the creature narrowed its eyes contentedly and purred, “Kyururu.”

It was warm.

The chill left behind in my heart by the glass-chair debate with Leonardo seemed to melt away little by little.

“…Well, if you’re cute, that’s good enough.”

I am fundamentally averse to things that require effort.

Pets are out of the question.

Feeding, walking, cleaning up waste—just thinking about it adds to my work hours.

But this child was different.

Hop.

The creature jumped out of my hands and scampered across the floor.

Then it found a small clump of dust gathered in the corner of a bookshelf—

Chomp.

It ate it.

It happened in an instant.

It put the dust into its mouth, chewed, swallowed, and then chirped contentedly, “Kyuu!”

“…What?”

I blinked.

It ate dust?

Ordinary animals do not eat dust.

Yet this little one went on to inhale eraser shavings under the desk and scraps of old paper, one after another.

Like a living vacuum cleaner.

My mental calculator immediately began processing.

Merits:

The room cleans itself automatically.
No feeding costs.
Cute.

Demerits:

Violates palace livestock regulations (I will get scolded if discovered).

“…Approved.”

I decided instantly.

The demerit paled in comparison to the merits.

If it saved me the trouble of using my 《Clean》 magic, then it was no longer a pet.

It was an “excellent partner.”

“Your name will be… let’s see.”

I lifted it up.

“Since you clean, I’ll call you ‘Run.’”

“Kyuu!”

Run happily nibbled my finger.

It didn’t hurt—perhaps it had no teeth.

If anything, it tickled.

“Good, good.
From today on, this is your home.
…But keep it a secret from that troublesome man and from my husband.”

If Leonardo found out, he would probably demand it back as “part of my art.”

If Claude found out, he might declare it dangerous and eliminate it.

First, I would establish a fait accompli.

I would completely tame it and prove that it was harmless and useful, then reveal it later.

I placed Run into the bottom drawer of my desk.

Inside was a fluffy towel—one of my spare nap pillow covers.

“Stay quiet in here, okay?
I’ll give you lots of food later.”

“Kyuu.”

Run nodded obediently and burrowed into the towel.

What a good child.

I almost wanted Leonardo to drink a decoction made from this child’s nail clippings.

That night.

I returned to my new residence, the detached palace.

“Welcome home, Eliana.”

Claude greeted me with a radiant smile.

He had already finished his official duties and changed into relaxed clothing.

“I’m home, Claude.”

“You look tired.
…Did something happen with that rumored architect?”

“Yes, well.
I gave him a bit of ‘education.’”

I smiled wryly.

Education for the backside.

“Don’t push yourself too hard.
…When you look tired, it hurts me too.”

Claude gently stroked my cheek.

His touch was kind.

But today, that kindness stung a little.

I was keeping a secret from him.

After all, I had secretly brought Run home in my bag.

(…I was worried about leaving it in the library.)

The library gets cold at night, and there was no guarantee Leonardo wouldn’t intrude again.

So just for today.

Just today, I planned to secretly take care of it in my room.

“…Shall we eat?”

I changed the subject and headed to the dining room.

Even during the meal, I couldn’t relax.

Every time I heard Run rustling inside the bag at my feet, my heart jumped.

“…Eliana?
Is there something at your feet?”

“N-No!
My legs are swollen, so I was just shaking them unconsciously!”

“Shaking your legs?
You?”

Claude looked puzzled.

It was a poor excuse.

My usual selling point was my statue-like, motionless, energy-saving posture.

“…Well, never mind.
After dinner, I’ll give you a massage.”

“Th-Thank you very much…”

That was close.

What would I do with Run during the massage?

Hide it in the bathroom?

As I worried, the night deepened.

The bedroom.

Claude lay in bed first, reading.

I was in the bathroom, secretly feeding Run some lint from my pocket.

“Kyuu…!”

“No.
If you eat too much, you’ll grow bigger.”

I scolded it in a whisper.

At its current size, it fit in my palm, but if it grew any bigger, I wouldn’t be able to hide it.

“Good night, Run.
Stay quiet here until morning, okay?”

I put Run into a basket and closed the lid.

I had made air holes.

I hid the basket deep inside the closet and then headed to bed as if nothing were wrong.

“…Sorry to keep you waiting.”

“Ah.
…Come here.”

Claude lifted the covers.

I slipped inside, wrapped in his warmth.

“…You smell nice.”

He buried his nose in my hair.

“A new perfume?
…It smells a bit earthy—nostalgic.”

My heart skipped.

That was Run’s scent.

Dusty, yet somehow sunlit.

“…You’re imagining it.
Good night.”

I buried my face in his chest and brushed it off.

Lying to him hurt.

But it was for Run’s sake.

(I’m sorry, Claude.
…I’ll introduce you properly another time.)

Apologizing in my heart, I fell asleep.

The next morning.

When I woke up, an ominous “merimerri” sound came from the direction of the closet.

I cautiously opened it.

There, breaking out of the basket, was Run—now grown to the size of a kitten overnight—happily chewing on the lace hem of my dress.

“…Kyuu!”

“…You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Growth spurts have their limits.

At this point, hiding it was impossible.

Then, behind me, I heard the sound of Claude turning over in bed.

“…Hm?
Eliana, what’s wrong?”

Absolute crisis.

My “secret pet life” was facing collapse on its very first day.