Chapter 6
‘What the—? Did I turn back into a cat again?!’
I thought I had fully transformed into a human, but it had worn off after just a few minutes. I was dumbfounded.
But I had no time to dwell on that thought—guards suddenly came rushing in.
Startled by the sound of their heavy footsteps, I bolted toward the nearest exit with all the strength I had.
“It’s escaping! Catch that cat!”
Catch me with those clumsy moves? Not a chance.
“Meoow!” (Catch me if you can!)
I put to full use the tricks I’d mastered while running away in the market square.
Like a butterfly I leapt, like a bee I darted swiftly between the guards’ legs.
In the end, I made it out through a wide-open gate and ran without looking back.
“Where the hell did it go?”
A few of them were panting as they chased me, but when I slipped into the garden and hid, they gave up and turned back.
I was trembling in the grass, terrified they might find me—when suddenly someone grabbed me by the scruff of my neck and lifted me up.
“Meoww!” (Yikes!)
Having my fatal feline weak point seized, I couldn’t resist at all and ended up cradled in someone’s arms.
“Well now, that caused a bit of a fuss, didn’t it?”
The one who had found me was none other than Aziz.
‘Where were you this whole time?!’
After nearly dying, a wave of resentment welled up in me.
I buried my face into his arm with a pitiful mewl, sniffling, and Aziz gave an awkward smile.
“My mistake—I seem to have made Lady Cat cry. My apologies.”
“Meeooow…” (You think ‘sorry’ fixes everything…?)
“You must be tired. Please, rest for a while. I’ll see to it that you’re brought somewhere safe.”
He muttered an incantation I couldn’t understand, then gently pressed his hand to my forehead.
‘Huh…?’
As a violet light spread from his hand, drowsiness swept over me, and I drifted off to sleep.
Holding the little kitten close in his arms, the young man walked away from the source of the commotion, wearing a satisfied smile.
That day, Suleiman was in a foul mood.
At the council of elders convened before his formal inauguration, every remark had rubbed him the wrong way.
“But Your Highness only just had your coming-of-age ceremony, and already you’re to be governor of the capital?”
“Leave the work to us, my lord. You have loyal ministers with far more experience, don’t you?”
“Haah…”
“I’d like to kill every last one of them,” he muttered, biting his lip.
Watching their fruitless bickering in the council hall had stoked a violent urge to bathe the room in blood.
But he did not yet have real power. For now, he had to keep his head down and wait.
It was extraordinary for him, the second prince of Ashtal, to be named governor of the capital, Istin.
Suleiman had stood out among the princes since his early teens—blessed with keen intelligence, unmatched martial skill, and the leadership that had brought victory in countless border disputes and wars.
Everyone tacitly agreed he was a likely candidate for the next sultan.
Still, at only twenty years old, receiving the governorship of the capital was premature.
It was only possible thanks to the overwhelming influence of his mother, Hürrem Sultan.
No matter how exceptional he was, the other princes and their mothers were watching for any opening, their eyes burning with ambition.
And now, the reigning sultan had barely finished her son’s coming-of-age before installing him as governor of Istin—no wonder the nobles were displeased.
‘…This is giving me a headache.’
After being hounded until late afternoon, he finally ate dinner and returned to his chambers, feeling strangely exhausted.
“Are you all right, my prince? You don’t look well,” a maid asked gently, clinging close.
Suleiman’s brow furrowed.
“That’s enough. Leave me.”
“M-my apologies!”
The flustered maid bowed her head, stammering apologies over and over.
As a prince of marriageable age, temptations constantly surrounded him.
Just recently, a powerful noble of the capital had tried to push not one, but three women into his bed.
Even his own mother had offered to assemble a harem for him. But Suleiman had no interest.
He was a workaholic, strict with himself, and cared only for strengthening the kingdom.
Beautiful women in a harem would only be a nuisance.
‘One irritation after another…’
Rubbing his throbbing temple, he walked down the long corridors of the palace.
When he stopped before his chamber doors, the attendants standing on either side opened them at once.
“I need no attendance. I’ll retire early tonight. Leave me.”
“Yes, my prince.”
The palace staff were quietly overjoyed. Their master usually stayed awake until late at night, which meant they couldn’t sleep either. A night like this was rare.
As his servants left, Suleiman was finally alone.
He sat on the edge of his bed. He’d been fine before dinner, but now his body felt heavy and sluggish, like soaked cotton.
Rubbing his forehead, he whispered a thin sigh.
“…Seems I’ve overworked myself.”
Each prince had their own territory to govern, and before coming to the capital, Suleiman had been ruling a city of his own.
But under his mother’s command, he had wrapped up all affairs in record time, leaving him physically drained.
On top of that, as the new governor he had the capital’s administration to oversee, as well as all the matters his mother kept sending.
Buried under mountains of state business, he had hardly slept for weeks.
Tonight, he resolved to rest early.
He stripped off his uniform piece by piece.
His well-trained muscles shifted fluidly with his movements, the body of a seasoned warrior.
After changing into just a robe, he lay down.
The moment he pulled up the covers, he sank into deep slumber.
For someone plagued by insomnia, it was blissful.
But before long, faint mewling reached his ears, like a hallucination.
‘A cat’s cry…? Impossible.’
Unlike the other royals who kept cats by their side, Suleiman had never owned one.
He tried to dismiss it as a dream, but the sound’s owner suddenly pressed against his shoulder.
‘…Warm.’
Through the thin robe came soft, comforting warmth.
It was pleasant—until tiny paw pads began kneading his face.
Meow, meoow?
The cat mewled as if talking to itself, then began planting little kisses with smacking sounds.
It should’ve been nothing but a dream, yet he felt it all vividly.
‘Must be fatigue catching up with me.’
He thought, I’ll see a doctor tomorrow, and tried to drift back to sleep.
But it was hopeless.
The cat’s rough tongue began licking his lips.
‘…Ticklish.’
The odd mix of sharp and soft made it impossible to sleep.
He shifted to roll away—then froze as the small tongue brushed his own.
“Mmm.”
At once, a strange sensation flooded his body.
As if he’d tasted the sweetest thing in the world.
For a fleeting moment, the heavy weight of his curse lifted like clouds blowing away.
The darkness that had bound him for over a decade seemed to recede, leaving a bliss so intense he couldn’t describe it.
That damned curse—untreatable even by the most renowned magi and priests of the continent.
And yet, for the first time in his life, peace and warmth spread through him.
Slowly opening his eyes, Suleiman sat up, clutching his forehead.
Then he saw her—crawling awkwardly across the floor in the dim room.
‘Another one they sent?’
His mother? Or the nobles?
She moved like a fish flopping on land—strange, but still, a naked woman at this hour meant one of them was behind it.
Sighing, he drew the sword from beside his pillow and approached carefully.
She couldn’t possibly be an assassin dressed like that, but caution never hurt.
Silently, he crept closer and leveled his blade.
“Who are you?”
The woman flinched and slowly turned her head.
“…!!”
Her figure was that of a mature woman, but her face was like a girl’s.
Silver hair shimmered in the moonlight.
Her eyes, wet and glistening, were mismatched in color.
Her skin was pale to the point of glowing faintly, her cheeks and lips flushed enticingly.
‘Beautiful.’
He sucked in a breath, then forced himself to speak with feigned composure.
“I asked who you are. Are you mute?”
“M-mnya…”
She didn’t seem to be pretending.
Normally, he would never have been swayed, but something about her struck him as pitiful.
“I’ve never seen you before. How did you enter here?”
Still, she gave no answer.
As he watched her tightly pressed lips grow redder, the last of his wariness melted away.
‘This isn’t like me…’
How could he excuse trespassing into a prince’s chamber just because of her beauty?
The memory of the appalling “three-intruder-bed incident” surfaced, steeling his resolve to question her.
Normally, he would’ve called the guards and had her thrown in prison.
But strangely, he wanted to keep speaking to her, even knowing she couldn’t reply.
Seeing her hiccuping like a kitten made him want to tease her like a mischievous boy.
These emotions were wrong. Irrational.
Then, he noticed a blue bell glinting on the choker around her neck.
“This is…”
He bent down to examine it, frowning.
It was the mark of a special cat belonging to his mother, the sultan.
‘So that’s how she got in.’
To put a cat’s collar on a woman—such was his mother’s eccentric taste.
‘If my mother sent her… does that mean I’ll see her again?’
The thought filled him with a confusing hope.
And so, harsh words spilled from his lips that did not match his heart.
Even when he said, “It’d be troublesome if you died here,” it was really out of concern for her frail appearance.
But for some reason, watching her tremble like a frightened kitten while glaring at him wasn’t unpleasant.
In fact, it was strangely delightful—simply facing her, whoever she was.
‘…I must be losing my mind.’
Even if she bore his mother’s mark, a woman sneaking into his room could not be trusted.
His actions made no sense, even to himself.
He had always thought his mother had a twisted streak—but maybe blood could not be denied.
But his excitement ended the moment smoke filled the room and she vanished.
“…She’s gone.”
It had been his room all along, yet it suddenly felt lonely.
All that remained where she had been was a single blanket.
‘If only I could see her again…’
He picked up the blanket that had wrapped her body and carefully tucked it away in his wardrobe.
To him, everything that had happened that night felt like a sweet mirage.
