Chapter 34
As Zenox went down to the kitchen, there was chaos.
All the employees helping in the kitchen ran away, leaving only the head chef clinging to the wall, trembling like a mouse trapped in a cage.
The chef, sensing his impending doom, could barely look at Zenox as he fumbled.
“Uh, is there a problem with the food…?”
Zenox silently extended the plate.
Seeing the lightweight plate, the chef’s eyes widened.
“Fox food.”
It was a brief request, but the chef understood immediately, sensing the urgency.
“I’ll prepare it right away.”
Zenox watched the chef with his arms crossed.
Soon, fresh milk began to boil in a small pot.
Inhaling the aromatic scent of the milk, Zenox unexpectedly asked:
“Do foxes only drink milk?”
“Yes, yes?”
Startled, the chef hastily replied:
“Foxes are omnivorous, but since this one’s still a baby, we’re only giving it milk.”
Considering its grown teeth, it might be time to give it some solid food.
After some thought, Zenox instructed the chef to prepare some chopped fruits and finely sliced meat.
Zenox, having forcefully taken the food from the kitchen, laid the spoils in front of the fox.
The blue eyes of the fox shimmered like sunlit water as it checked the plate.
“Kyuu!”
Zenox let out a sarcastic chuckle at the fox’s enthusiastic response.
Even though he felt like he was being used, he didn’t really mind.
The baby fox dove headfirst into the plate, eating eagerly. Its pink tongue moved relentlessly. It looked like it would lick the plate clean.
Watching, Zenox snapped back to his senses and frowned.
Then, in the coldest voice he could muster, he warned:
“If you pull something like this again, I won’t let it go.”
It was a threat that would make anyone tremble, but the baby fox simply turned its head away in disdain.
It even pushed the empty plate with its paw as if asking for more.
Afterward, the fox left the room with a light step.
By the time Zenox realized, he was holding an empty plate.
From then on, the baby fox often visited with a plate in its mouth. It seemed to treat Zenox as if he were some sort of feeding station.
“I might turn you into a scarf.”
He threatened the fox repeatedly, but it had no effect.
Providing food while questioning why he was doing so, Zenox was perplexed.
The fearless fox was clever.
No, it was so smart that its intelligence could be written about in an academic journal.
It had a clear concept of time and seemed to understand human words, expressing its desires unambiguously.
Observing, it was generally docile. However, when not fed, it became irritable and showed a strong temper.
If given unsavory food, the fox would take the food in its mouth and throw it in front of Zenox as if to say, ‘Is this what you call a meal?’
Such a crazy fox.
Cursing the fox, Zenox found himself naturally waiting for it during meal times and felt strange about it.
Thus, their peculiar cohabitation continued.
Now, even if the fox visited unexpectedly, he simply let it be.
Still, he tried not to grow attached.
The barriers around Zenox were too firm and narrow to allow anyone in.
He just continued their ambiguous relationship, making excuses.
Over time, he became accustomed to living with the fox, though Zenox would never admit it.
Soon, it was time to leave the capital.
Zenox decided to stay a bit longer, claiming he still had some tasks left.
Days passed, ordinary yet never dull.
“It’s already come to this?”
Unaware of the time, Zenox’s expression darkened as he checked the calendar.
The anniversary of his parents’ passing was rapidly approaching. Around this time, he would become lethargic and didn’t want to do anything.
Because it was the day when Zenox’s life was uprooted.
As the anniversary approached, even the closest servants retreated, knowing how sensitive Zenox became during this period.
Perhaps locked away by the servants, the fox also didn’t pester Zenox.
When the fateful day finally arrived, the morning sky looked ominous.
The sun was hidden, and dark storm clouds filled the sky.
As the servants hurriedly collected the laundry, rain began to pour. The sound of rain drowned out all other noises and heavy raindrops hit the windows, leaving long streaks.
Zenox sat alone in a dimly lit room.
Lying on the sofa, he stared blankly out of the window.
It had also rained the day his parents passed away.
-Young master… master!
-The sight of the Grand Duke and Grand Duchess’s corpses was horrifying.
-He’s still young; I’m not sure if he’ll be okay inheriting the position of the Duchy’s head.
Several voices echoed chaotically in his mind.
The voice that seemed to sharply poke at Zenox didn’t stop even when he covered his ears.
Emotions surged wildly.
At times, he was overwhelmed with the urge to destroy everything, and at other times, he didn’t want to do anything at all.
His mental state, which was already unstable, felt particularly weak today.
His clouded reason seemed to fuel the onset of madness.
How long should it be like this?
Maybe it would be easier if he just got rid of everything…
His golden eyes, like a sun that had lost its light, dimmed.
Then it happened.
The scratching sound of nails came from beyond the door.
As if a dying ember had reignited, his eyes sparkled once more.
As he turned his head toward the door, a fox walked in, seemingly having opened the door by itself.
Zenox, who was seated on the sofa, stared blankly at the fox.
“Go away.”
He wasn’t in the mood to deal with it.
Today, he might have acted on the threats he’d always just voiced.
Perhaps sensing something different, the baby fox paused.
It tilted its head and then jumped onto Zenox’s lap.
Zenox remained still, and the fox presented its head, as if asking to be petted.
While it had been touched elsewhere before, it had never allowed its head to be stroked. It would always run away.
Frozen, Zenox hesitantly began to pet its head.
White fur slipped through his fingers.
Its fluffy head, like dandelion seeds, with twitching ears. Its head, smaller than his palm, seemed so fragile he had to be extra gentle.
As he mindlessly stroked its fur, his mood gradually improved.
The chaotic voices in his mind had completely disappeared.
The once bothersome sound of the rain no longer disturbed Zenox.
Feeling the soft and warm touch, Zenox closed his eyes.
It was a moment of peace.
The next day, after a day without any incidents, Zenox headed to a memorial space specially set up in the mansion.
He couldn’t immediately visit the tomb located in the northern Grand Duke’s castle, so he wanted to pay his simple respects.
The only difference today was that the baby fox was with him.
The building’s interior was chillingly cold.
It was completely enclosed, with a single round window on the ceiling.
Two altars illuminated by the light from above were all there was.
“Kyu.”
The fox, which earlier didn’t want to be held, now whined to be put down.
“Such a capricious creature.”
Once set down, the fox took a quick round of the memorial space and seemed bored and left.
Zenox was concerned about the fox that had gone outside but thought it would return shortly.
Standing in front of the altar with his parents’ names, he closed his eyes.
He usually shared mundane updates, but today was different.
Recently, he had spent many days with the baby fox.
After finishing his report and opening his eyes, the fox had returned, carrying a sunflower larger than its face in its mouth.
Stumbling in, the fox dropped the sunflower in front of the altar. It looked like an offering.
The scent of the bright yellow sunflower tickled his nose. It was the smell of summer he had forgotten for so long.
Zenox looked at the sunflower for a while and then turned his gaze to the baby fox.
Not knowing what to say, he moistened his lips several times before speaking.
“That name is indeed weird.”
The fox tilted its head in response to the unexpected comment.
“Miss Fluffy? That’s terrible.”
Zenox had never actually called the fox like that. Nor had he called it by any other name.
Looking at its shining white fur, Zenox suddenly said:
“Whitie.”
It wasn’t much different from ‘Miss Fluffy’, but he liked ‘Whitie’ so much that no other name came to mind.
With a decisive nod, Zenox affirmed:
“Let’s call you Whitie.”
“Kyuu!”
The fox let out a cry as if understanding.
Its tail wagged, possibly showing its approval.
Zenox realized belatedly that the baby fox had already jumped over the sturdy fence he had built.