The girl’s faint smile grew wider as she stepped closer, her gaze lingering on the books I had just been pawing through. I backed away slightly, watching her curiously. What now? She isn’t just going to keep staring at me, right? It looked like she had just taken a bath. The smell of sweat was now gone and a sweet, flowery smell had replaced it.

Phew! At least I won’t have to spend my night retching.

It was then that I noticed something different about her. The color of her eyes had changed. It had gone from a vibrant blue to a muted gray. She then opened the drawer of the table and put a small box into it that she was carrying. Are they contacts? I didn’t expect such modern items in a world like this.

Once finished, she returned to the bed. She bent down and picked me up. But now that I had regained my stamina a bit after eating the chicken leg, I gave it my all to get away from her. I pushed her leg with my paw and jumped back ….. and hit the floor.

“Meeow!”

I had hit my head.

Ugh, this damn cat body. So hard to control.

I felt like I was getting some heavenly punishment for some unknown crimes. Never heard of anyone falling so much.

Seriously, nine lives better not mean nine embarrassing deaths from falling down.

The girl exclaimed, seeing me hurt, and picked me up again. I gave myself up to fate this time. She ruffled my hair and patted my head, probably hoping that it would help me feel better. It didn’t. I was just more annoyed. I squirmed a little but soon settled as she began to stroke my fur absentmindedly. A comfortable warmth spread through me, but I couldn’t shake the odd feeling of being handled like a pet. I’m not just any ordinary cat, you know.

A few moments later, her hand paused. She picked up a notebook and a fountain pen from the table. With a gentle nudge, she made me sit beside herself. I blinked up at her, wondering what was coming next.

“Meow?” I mewed, confused. What is she doing now?

She opened the notebook and drew a small simple symbol on an empty page.. Then, without a word, she pointed at it and spoke. "A for apple."

I stared at her, then at the letter. She repeated it, her tone patient, and encouraging.

“A... for act.”

Huh. So she’s teaching me letters now? I tilted my head, my feline mind puzzling over what to do next. Curiosity stirred, and before I knew it, I mimicked the sound.

"A," I said—or at least, I tried to. My voice came out as more of a squeaky meow, but I could feel the pattern of the letter in my mind.

The girl’s eyes widened, and she leaned closer, excitement dancing in her now-gray irises. "A... for act," she repeated, this time more slowly, watching me intently.

I tried again, this time with a more deliberate sound: "A."

Her jaw dropped. She gasped audibly, eyes gleaming with astonishment. I couldn’t help but feel a small surge of satisfaction at her reaction. She leaned back, clutching the notebook like she had discovered something extraordinary.

She whispered something to herself, barely able to contain her excitement. Without skipping a beat, she moved on to the next letter. "Aa for art."

She pointed to the new letter and pronounced it slowly, her voice filled with wonder. And once again, I tried to mimic the sound. “Aa..”

The sound was a bit distorted, more of a guttural noise than anything else. My kitten's vocal cords were just not built for this. Still, I was trying my best, and the girl seemed excited by my effort. She clapped her hands, an infectious grin spreading across her face. She continued.

“E,” she said. “E for ink.”

I took a deep breath, ready to give it another shot. “E...”

It wasn’t perfect, but it was close. The girl’s face lit up, a mixture of astonishment and excitement swirling in her expression. I couldn’t help but feel a small sense of pride at her reaction.

Next, she pointed to another vowel. “Ee for eel.”

I tried again. “Ee...”

Nope. That sound came out as a high-pitched squeak instead. I frowned internally. No matter how hard I tried, some of these sounds just didn’t seem to work with my vocal cords. There were limits to what a cat could do, after all. I wasn’t equipped to make all the noises humans did.

The girl then pointed to herself and said, “Celine”.

Stolen novel; please report.

Oh. So her name’s Celine.

“Aein,” I said, and the girl burst out laughing. I also laughed in the weird noises cats make when they seem like laughing. After her laughing fit finished, she patted my head.

Still, the girl didn’t seem discouraged at all. In fact, she was even more engrossed in the process now, repeating the sounds over and over with boundless enthusiasm. She didn’t seem to mind that I couldn’t quite get all of them right. We continued this strange lesson, going over each vowel, with me mimicking the best I could—sometimes succeeding, sometimes not.

Her patience was impressive, though. Even when I messed up the sounds or couldn’t make them at all, she kept teaching, scribbling letters down in her notebook and speaking the words slowly.

The girl, now fully engrossed in teaching, didn’t notice how much time was passing. Her excitement had long since turned to full-blown enthusiasm, her eyes sparkling with every new sound I managed to produce. She made learning feel like a game, and though I was tired, I kept pushing myself to keep up. Eventually, after what felt like hours, my eyelids grew heavy, my little kitten body wasn’t used to such mental exertion, and I fought to stay awake. But no matter how hard I tried, sleep finally claimed me.

…

The next morning, I woke up to the smell of food. My eyes fluttered open, and I stretched lazily, yawning. Celine was sitting nearby with a plate of food, her eyes back to the vibrant blue, a small smile playing on her lips. She reached down and placed a bowl in front of me, filled with what looked like breakfast. It contained a hearty serving of meat, bread, and even a bit of milk on the side. My stomach growled, and I quickly padded over to the meal, purring gratefully. This was definitely the best meal I’d had in this world so far.

I didn’t get a notification telling me that I had earned more stamina and health. Calling up the status I learned that my stamina and health were now full, probably beacuse of the enough rest I got from sleeping.

After I finished eating, the girl picked me up and held me close as she left her room. I didn’t put up much of a fight—still too full and too sleepy to resist. Besides, she wasn’t bad company, though I had to admit, that I was starting to enjoy her presence more than I initially expected. She carried me down to the ground floor of the tavern. It was much livelier now than the quiet from last night. People bustled about, filling the tables. I recognized some of them from the night before—cooks, servers, and a few patrons who seemed like regulars. But there was also a new crowd. What stood out most was that many of them were... children. Odd.

Celine approached the bartender, who was cleaning a mug behind the counter. They exchanged words. Once again, I had no idea what they were saying. Her voice was calm, and the bartender, a gruff man with a thick mustache, nodded as she slipped a few coins onto the counter. They talked for a little while longer before she handed me to him.

Wait, what? She gave me to the bartender?

I blinked up at him, my tiny heart pounding in my chest. He glanced down at me with mild interest, holding me like one would a loaf of bread. This isn’t happening, is it? I am not about to be left here, am I?

“Meow?” I tried, giving Celine my best pleading look. But she simply smiled, patted my head, and said something in that strange language before turning on her heel and walking away.

Great. She’s leaving me here.

The bartender sighed and set me down behind the counter. He muttered something in my direction, scratching his head. I looked up at him, tail twitching in irritation. I didn’t want to be left here, in the care of some stranger who smelled like stale beer and soap. My eyes darted back to the door Celine had just walked through. I needed to get out of here.

But before that, I looked around at the surrounding crowd. It was strange—mostly kids. Their ages seemed to range from around ten years to adolescents. Some looked like beggars with worn-out clothes, dirt smudging their faces and hands. But there were others, dressed more neatly, like Celine, sitting at tables, eating whatever breakfast the inn was serving.

Is the owner running a charity or something?

I watched as the bartender bustled around, serving food and drinks. The morning rush had him busy, and for a brief moment, I saw my chance. He wasn’t paying attention to me anymore. If I was going to make a move, it was now. I stretched out my legs, cautiously inching toward the edge of the counter. Just a little further, and I’d be able to slip away unnoticed. But before I could even reach the edge, the door creaked open, and a hush fell over the room.

I stopped, freezing in place, as a thin man entered. He wasn’t impressive at all, his frame almost gaunt under a long, dark coat. But what caught my attention wasn’t him—it was the group that followed. Two large men flanked him, both built like brick walls, with arms the size of tree trunks. They weren’t wearing armor or carrying weapons, but their presence was enough to make everyone in the room tense up.

The thin man strode into the tavern like he owned the place—too bad he looked like he’d just robbed a thrift store. He looked like a caricature of nobility. His dark eyes swept the room, and though he didn’t say a word, everyone seemed to move out of his way. The kids, who had been boisterous and noisy moments before, fell silent, casting nervous glances at each other. The bartender noticed him immediately and straightened up, wiping his hands on his apron nervously. He approached the thin man with a slight bow, speaking in hurried, deferential tones.

I tilted my head, watching from my hiding spot behind the counter. Who was this guy? He didn’t look like much—skinny, a bit pale, not threatening in the usual sense. But the way everyone reacted to him... reminded me of the thugs from cheap B movies back on Earth. Except this thin man didn’t need to throw his weight around. His mere presence was enough to unnerve everyone.

The thin man moved toward one of the tables, his thugs close behind, and sat down without a word. The entire tavern seemed to hold its breath as he did. Even the bartender, who had just served him, looked uneasy.

Who is this guy? Why is everyone treating him like he is royalty or something?

I crouched low, trying to remain unseen. Whatever was happening, I had a feeling it wasn’t something I wanted to be a part of.

Once settled, he said something, and everyone resumed their meals. He made quick work of the meal served in front of him. He then started calling some kids to himself one at a time. The kids would drop whatever they were doing at once and rush by his side. The kids looked at him like he was Santa Claus—but instead of gifts, he was handing out anxiety. To some of them, he’d talk happily, and to others he’d show mock anger. He did all this with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

“#^&@^ Mara?” he asked the barkeep a short while later.

The barkeeper first gestured to the door and then to me while answering. The thin man stood and came beside me behind the bar. I stared into his brown eyes. He started petting me while smiling and saying something. Although I loathed his touch, I didn’t make a fuss.

He quickly lost all interest in me, opened the door to the kitchen, and left.