At the same time, Ruik thrashed and tried to shake Daisy off as she wrapped her arms around it, but that didn’t go the way it wanted either.

Thunk.

“Ow.”

“……!”

Ruik shook its body trying to throw Daisy off, and Daisy bumped her elbow against the wall. She made the sound on reflex and it barely even hurt, but Ruik froze at that small noise.

Daisy didn’t notice any of that, and since Ruik had gone still and stopped struggling, she figured things were going well and scooped up warm water with a bucket to pour gently over it.

By that point, Ruik gave up and held still. Daisy lathered a towel with plenty of soap, worked it into a thick foam, and scrubbed it into Ruik’s fur. Careful around the neck and ears where it had been injured, but thorough on the paws.

Ruik endured even the paw washing without complaint. But when Daisy touched its belly, it started groaning and squirming with discomfort.

“Uuuuugh.”

“Sorry, okay, sorry, I was wrong, all done. Already all done, look at that, Ruik’s all bathed? Good boy, doesn’t that feel nice. All finished.”

Daisy kept up a stream of chatter, soothing Ruik with her voice while her hands scrubbed away at its fur, then poured warm water over it to rinse.

But the moment Daisy’s hand slipped between its hind legs, Ruik’s patience ran out entirely.

“Woof!”

“Eek!”

Daisy was trying to wash the spot under the tail she had missed, when Ruik let out a loud bark and gave its whole body a fierce, violent shake. The foam Daisy hadn’t rinsed off yet flew everywhere and drenched her completely.

White suds dripped down her face and all over her body. Daisy stood there in a daze for a moment, then burst out laughing. Ruik, displeased by that, barked again.

“Woof! Woof!”

“Sorry, sorry, I’ll rinse you right away, right away. Oh, that’s too funny.”

The sight of this dignified dog, who was fussy about cleanliness in every other regard, throwing such a fit over having its backside touched was just too funny and too adorable. Daisy laughed as she dipped the bucket into the water, but the wet clothes soaked through with suds and water clung to her uncomfortably, so she set the bucket down.

“Hold on, I need to wash up too. You got me completely soaked.”

Just as Daisy lifted her apron and moved to take off her dress, Ruik suddenly leapt with a splash into the tub full of water.

“Ruik! Hey!”

Before Daisy could even scold it for that, Ruik splashed around in the water to roughly rinse off the suds, then leapt back out, gave its whole body a vigorous shake, and walked out of the bathroom dripping wet.

“Hey! Stop right there! You’ll catch a cold going around like that!”

Daisy dumped a bucket of water over herself to rinse off the suds, then grabbed a towel and rushed after Ruik.

Fortunately, Ruik let itself be caught quickly and allowed Daisy to dry it off. But it would not tolerate having the area near its tail dried. Daisy had to accept that after getting smacked by the tail several times while trying to dry Ruik off.

*   *   *

Aside from its hatred of baths, Ruik was not the least bit dog-like.

It paid no attention to treats, and had no interest in the toys that dogs typically loved. Daisy’s attempts to win Ruik over with a new tennis ball, a squeaky leather toy, a meat-shaped stuffed animal with a bell inside, and a colorful tug rope all came to nothing.

It wasn’t just indifference, either. When Daisy shook those toys around trying to tempt Ruik into playing, Ruik would let out a long breath, trudge over, and halfheartedly pick up the toy in its mouth, give it a couple of shakes in a show of playing, and then stop. The whole attitude said it was doing this purely out of consideration for Daisy’s effort and goodwill. Watching it, Daisy was at a loss for words.

The one thing Ruik liked was a single shabby, sloppily made cloth doll that Daisy had sewn by hand. That alone it carried to its sleeping spot and kept there.

“Why that one of all things? You really are a strange dog.”

Daisy said with a pout, then sliced up some roasted meat and put it in Ruik’s bowl.

Unlike any normal dog, Ruik wouldn’t touch raw meat, and on top of that, it sometimes got caught sneaking licks of salt and earned a scolding from Daisy for it.

But this finicky dog was also a dignified and clever companion.

Whenever Daisy finished a bouquet from an order and was about to head out for delivery, Ruik would get there first and make off with the handle of the finished flower basket in its mouth.

There was no need to make a fuss going out to look for it. Ruik would return in the blink of an eye, almost as though it had never left. And when it did, there was always a pouch of payment hanging around its neck.

“Your dog is truly clever. If you don’t hang the payment around its neck, it won’t let go of the flower basket.”

The maid from the Pearson household, who placed frequent orders at Daisy’s flower shop, sang Ruik’s praises without end on the day she came in to place an order in person.

“I tried leaving out one silver coin to test it, and you wouldn’t believe it, it turned around and tried to take the flower basket back.”

“Oh, come on. Ruik was probably just being fickle.”

“No, I’m telling you, your Ruik clearly noticed the short count.”

Daisy laughed awkwardly and brushed it off with an “I’m sure that’s not it,” but felt quietly proud.

After the maid left, Daisy turned to look at Ruik.

“You could have let that one slide. She’s a regular, and she would have paid the full amount later anyway.”

Ruik exhaled through its nose and turned its head away. The air said the matter was not worth reconsidering. Daisy clicked her tongue but smiled soon after.

“So stubborn. Let me see….”

Daisy ran her hand through the fur at the back of Ruik’s neck. Not to check the scar that had long since healed, but to see how dirty and smelly it was.

But since the bath incident, Ruik had never smelled bad or had greasy, matted fur. Every now and then it would slip away and come back looking perfectly clean, and Daisy suspected it had been swimming in the Harn River not far from the flower shop, though she had never caught it in the act.

‘Even if it swims, where does it go to dry off?’

That long, thick fur couldn’t possibly dry on its own in no time at all. Was someone secretly washing Ruik? But why?

Her four-legged friend had many secrets, but Daisy didn’t feel anxious in the face of them. Ruik was not the kind of partner who made her uneasy.

It had only been just over two months since they met, but Daisy had grown so accustomed to living with Ruik that she found it hard to remember what life had been like without it.

“Woof.”

“Alright. I won’t say anything about a bath. Hmm, it’s about time to close the shop. Want to go for a walk together before dinner?”

At those words, Ruik stood up, walked over to the coat rack beside the front door, and came back with two things in its mouth. One was Daisy’s cardigan, and the other was its own leash.

It was early autumn, with a crisp breeze blowing in the mornings and evenings. Daisy patted Ruik on the head, pulled the cardigan on over her blouse, and fastened the leash around Ruik’s neck.

They stepped out of the flower shop, Daisy locked the front door, and the two of them walked side by side for about ten steps.

Then Ruik suddenly stopped dead in its tracks.

“Ruik? What’s wrong….”

“Well, well, look who it is, our pretty little Daisy!”

At that moment, Daisy understood Ruik. And her expression curdled.

The man sauntered toward her, leaving behind a calf-sized dog growling at him and a woman wearing an expression like she had bitten into an unripe persimmon.

The man had reddish-brown hair and wore a slim jacket in the latest fashion, with a thick-buckled leather belt around his waist. But whether she looked at his trendy semi-brogue calfskin shoes, his neatly groomed hair and smooth nails, or the loud tattoos on the forearms he had deliberately rolled his sleeves up to show off, no matter where she looked, Daisy found this man unsettling.

It was Malcolm, the owner of the weap*ns shop next door.

He called it a weap*ns shop, but Malcolm was no blacksmith. A blacksmith could not have arms that smooth or hands free of burn scars. Malcolm was a middleman who brought in finished weap*ns and sold them at a markup, and even in peacetime like this, he would haul in cartloads of weap*ns and armor and move them without a trace.

So people suspected he had ties to back-alley criminals and thugs of the worst sort.