Celia remained silent for a moment, but under Schulla’s relentless stare, she finally answered in a small voice.

　　“I’ll feed him the life essence of living animals.”

　　“But humans are a nine-tailed fox’s main prey, aren’t they?”

　　“Not while I’m raising him. He won’t eat people.”

　　Celia spoke with uncompromising firmness.

　　Schulla suddenly burst out laughing.

　　“Oh, Captain. I’m not worried about everyone else.”

　　“Then who?”

　　“I’m worried about you!”

　　This time, Celia laughed.

　　“Demonic power doesn’t work on me.”

　　“And the fact that you think demonic power is the only thing you need to worry about means you’re already in trouble.”

　　Did Celia truly believe demonic power was all a nine-tailed fox needed to seduce someone?

　　They were creatures born to captivate humans. Their faces, their hair, the way they spoke, even their natural scent. By adulthood, even the slightest glance or gesture would be steeped in decadent allure.

　　“Don’t underestimate their instincts. You’ll regret it someday.”

　　Schulla delivered the warning as casually as ever, gave a quick bow, and left.

　　At last, Celia was alone.

　　“Whew…”

　　Completely drained, she returned to her room.

　　When she pulled the cloth off the cage, the limp nine-tailed fox lifted his head.

　　Celia examined his wounds from every angle. With only the slightest exaggeration, he seemed to heal even faster than a troll. Most of his wounds had already closed.

　　“Stuffy in there, isn’t it?”

　　The fox gave a soft whine.

　　Seeing him trapped behind bars tugged at her more than she liked. It reminded her of her own childhood, when she had spent entire days shut inside a room.

　　“I’ll let you out, but you have to stay quietly in this room. If you don’t, you’re going back in the cage.”

　　The fox blinked as though he understood.

　　Without much hesitation, Celia opened the door.

　　The fox, who had been limp enough to look half-dead, launched himself straight at the window like an arrow released from a fully drawn bow.

　　Celia didn’t panic.

　　She tracked him with the same sharp vision that let her fight three or four monsters at once and reached out at exactly the right moment. Her gaze was nothing like the one she had worn around Schulla.

　　Her hand closed around the cub’s scruff.

　　The fox let out a piercing shriek.

　　The nine-tailed fox thrashed and snarled with such ferocity that one would never have guessed he had been sick moments ago.

　　So his good behavior had been an act.

　　Of course he had been pretending. He was a fox.

　　Celia reached out with her other hand to return him safely to the cage.

　　The fox didn’t miss his chance.

　　He bared his teeth and sank them hard into her forearm.

　　Celia winced, but that was all. Compared to the pain in her shoulder, this was nothing.

　　He was so terrified that foamy saliva dripped from his mouth.

　　“Oh, little fox.”

　　He snarled and fought harder.

　　“Easy. Let’s calm down, all right?”

　　Celia murmured soothingly.

　　Once she thought of him as a frightened child in need of comfort, a gentle voice came more easily than she had expected. It was a little higher and clearer than the low, intimidating tone she normally used.

　　Strangely, speaking in that gentler register felt easier on her throat, as though it had been her natural voice all along.

　　“Shh…”

　　She waited.

　　Slowly, very slowly, the wild haze in the cub’s eyes began to clear.

　　“Why were you so scared? It’s all right. I’m not going to hurt you.”

　　Celia wiped the foam from his muzzle and smiled faintly.

　　The moment she smiled, the frost seemed to melt from her face, leaving it astonishingly soft and pretty.

　　That was Celia’s true face.

　　The cub stared up at her with round eyes.

　　“Your fur’s soaked with drool.”

　　Once his jaws finally loosened, Celia placed him safely back inside the cage.

　　“I’m not letting you out again today. You broke your promise, so that’s fair, isn’t it?”

　　Naturally, the fox didn’t answer, but Celia didn’t mind.

　　“But you’ll get another chance tomorrow. If you don’t run away, I’ll let you out.”

　　The fox remained silent.

　　“You’ll get another chance every day. The choice is yours.”

　　Having laid out the rule with quiet firmness, Celia closed the cage.

　　And so passed the second night shared by a nine-tailed fox second to none in slyness and a holy knight second to none in strictness.

* * *

　　The nine-tailed fox still refused to trust Celia.

　　Having revealed his true nature, the fox apparently realized that his innocent act would no longer work. He made no further effort to hide his wariness.

　　A nine-tailed fox might be a demon that bewitched humans and fed on them, but a cub was still a cub. He wasn’t very good at hiding what he felt.

　　Had he been abused?

　　Beneath his profound distrust, Celia could see unmistakable traces of abuse.

　　If the priestess was right and he had spent nineteen years in the Eastern Continent, then he could only have been in human hands for a couple of months before ending up for sale in the West.

　　Unless humans had held him captive in the Eastern Continent, too.

　　Celia didn’t know what had happened to him, but his hatred of humans had clearly not appeared overnight.

　　Her heart grew heavy, as though she had come across an abused child.

　　No, in one sense, he truly was no different from a baby. A young creature with an entire future of possibilities ahead of him.

　　And Celia knew what abuse felt like.

　　The thought made her sick.

　　Cold sweat prickled over her skin. Her hands began to tremble.

　　I’m strong.

　　Celia gripped the sword at her waist and steadied her breathing.

　　No one can threaten to kill me anymore.

　　She trained obsessively.

　　Ever since bringing the nine-tailed fox home, she had pushed herself harder every day. Her vice-captain had even joked that she was going to collapse at this rate, but Celia ignored him.

　　Someone like her was supposed to die, yet here she was, still struggling to live.

　　If she insisted on surviving, this was the least she had to do.

　　This was how she protected herself.

　　But could she raise that child when protecting herself already took everything she had?

　　The fox was a demon, but he was neither good nor evil.

　　Unlike Celia, who was cursed, he existed somewhere in the gray between good and evil. What he became would depend on how he was raised.

　　And if he became a demon-yokai, Celia would eventually have to kill him herself.

　　She wanted to avoid that more than anything.

　　Kill an abused child with her own hands?

　　No, she could not.

　　Then she had to teach him properly.

　　She had to teach him to be gentle, kind, and upright.

　　He needed to learn not to seduce humans and eat them.

　　His life and death are in my hands.

　　The realization sharpened her focus.

　　The more she thought about it, the more overwhelming the responsibility became.

　　What in the world had the priestess seen in Celia that made her entrust the future of a nine-tailed fox to a holy knight from the Western Continent?

　　Priestesses of the Eastern Continent served divine spirits and sacred beasts, or so Celia had heard. The cub wasn’t a sacred beast yet, but he already stood at the threshold of becoming one.

　　And the old woman had simply handed such a precious creature to her.

　　There was no point wondering about it now. The priestess had vanished without a trace afterward.

　　Celia shook her head and headed back to the captain’s quarters.

　　The living room smelled foul, the air tinged with the reek of the fox and blood. She opened the window to air the room out, then approached the cage.

　　The fox immediately bristled and snarled at her.

　　She couldn’t keep leaving him like this.

　　Celia crouched in front of the cage.

　　From the shadowed corner, a pair of enormous golden eyes gleamed back at her.

　　He was tiny, barely larger than a two-month-old kitten.

　　It was hard to believe that little thing was a nineteen-year-old demon.

　　Curled up in the corner, he looked like a rumpled ball of silver fluff.

　　“Little fox. Aren’t you hungry?”

　　The fox puffed himself up and breathed hard through his nose.

　　“You must be thirsty…”

　　He bared his teeth and let out a furious warning cry.

　　It sounded very much like, Don’t try anything.

　　“You need water. You lost a lot of blood.”

　　Celia had heard that rescued animals were sometimes force-fed to keep them alive. She couldn’t simply wait for him to lower his guard.

　　At this rate, the fox looked stubborn enough to starve himself to death rather than change his mind.

　　He certainly had a temper.

　　Celia opened the cage.

　　Now that the fox understood she wasn’t an easy human to overpower, he didn’t move recklessly. He simply watched her every motion.

　　Celia felt her muscles tense as though she were heading into a subjugation mission.

　　No ordinary cub should have been able to radiate such menace.

　　The sheer force of his hostility was remarkable.

　　Given the slightest opening, he might tear out her throat.

　　Keeping her face calm, Celia spoke.

　　“Little fox.”

　　She turned her hand palm-down and slowly extended it toward him.

　　Just as her fingertips were about to touch the gleaming silver fur, the fox lashed out with his claws.

　　Celia swallowed a grunt as they tore through her skin, then caught hold of him.

　　If she was going to force him to drink, she first had to get him out of the cage.

　　The moment she restrained him, the sound he made changed completely.

　　The fox cried out in terror.

　　It was no longer a threatening growl. It was almost a terrified scream.

　　“Shh. Good boy.”

　　The fox thrashed, leaving scratches all over Celia. Small as he was, he was still a demon, and his claws were viciously sharp.

　　He raked her cheek, and blood streamed down her forearm from the scratches there.

　　It was a disaster born of Celia’s complete inexperience with animals.

　　Someone who knew what they were doing would have wrapped him in a towel.

　　Celia knew no such tricks.

　　So she simply endured the scratches and stubbornly held him against her chest.

　　“Shh. I’m not going to hurt you. I won’t hit you. Please don’t be scared, all right?”

　　She murmured reassurance after reassurance in a voice she had never used before.

　　“It’s okay. Don’t be afraid, little fox. You’re so adorable. How could I ever want to hurt you?”

　　Once she found that warm, almost ticklish tone, the words that followed came easily.

　　It wasn’t difficult to think of gentle things to say.

　　Celia needed only to tell him everything she had longed to hear throughout her own life.

　　She gave the fox the words she had wished the priests would say, the words she had wanted from the other children, and all the affection she had once longed for so desperately.

　　“The people who couldn’t see how lovable you are were fools. You may be from the Eastern Continent, but I’m sure Sola loves you too.”

　　Her voice softened further.

　　“You’re such a precious child.”