Lunaria Veil was not human.

Yet she was not entirely wolf-beast, either.

Three hundred years ago, humans waged war against the beastkin, fearing their superior physical strength, and using weap*ns that the beastkin could not hope to match. At the forefront of that campaign stood the Empire of Lumentis, which led the ass*ult against the beastkin tribes.

Driven by hatred, the humans launched indiscriminate attacks. Countless beastkin perished, powerless to defend themselves. Their frequent internal conflicts only served to further divide and weaken them.

Ultimately, the beastkin were defeated and broken by war, and they scattered in order to survive. They abandoned the vast, sunlit continent and retreated into the unforgiving mountain ranges.

Nevertheless, there were always those who fell in love with humans.

Like Lunaria’s mother.

Her father was human, while her mother was a wolf beastkin. However, he was too frail to endure the harsh life in the mountains and died while she was still young.

Raised among her mother’s wolf pack, Lunaria struggled to belong because she carried only half the blood of a beastkin.

Her physical abilities were painfully inferior to those of full-blooded wolf beastkins. Even worse, she could not grow wolf ears like the others. Her dulled hearing meant that she was slow to react when predators drew near.

Then, one day, she was attacked by a bear and fell into the ravine below.

Once someone fell that far behind, it was no longer possible to turn back. To do so would have endangered the lives of the others.

From the outset, the wolf pack had regarded her with thinly veiled disdain. Neither fully beastkin nor human, she belonged nowhere.

It was a black hunting hound that found her as she lay on the brink of death.

The leader of the hunting party that the hound served was a fifteen-year-old named Cassion.

He stood there, gazing down at ten-year-old Lunaria, whose arms and legs were shattered and whose breathing was so faint that she seemed ready to vanish at any moment.

Even now, she did not know what emotion had filled his eyes that day.

But when he bent down without a word and gathered her into his arms, she felt immense — overwhelmingly so.

Like a savior had come for her.

Like a god who had reached down and chosen her.

From that day forward, Lunaria was taken to live in Lucius’s territory.

And she has remained there ever since.

“Emma, since it’s relatively mild today, shall I ask to have tea outside?”

“Oh, Miss. No matter how mild it is, it’s still winter.”

After glancing around, Emma lowered her voice and added.

“No matter how sturdy His Grace may be, humans find this weather cold.”

“…Humans truly are fragile beings.”

Even more so than herself, a half-blooded beastkin.

“It may feel stifling, but it would be best to have tea with His Grace in the conservatory, as you always do.”

“I wish it would hurry and become three in the afternoon.”

Lunaria could not disturb him while he was working, so she had no choice but to pass the time alone.

Of course, she had her own studies to attend to. Nevertheless, compared to Cassion, who worked steadily from morning until afternoon tea, she had far more free time.

As Lunaria crossed the rear garden, Emma, who was walking a step behind her, spoke up.

“Still, the Lucius territory is in the south, so it’s less cold. If you go north, it’ll chill you to the bone.”

“I’ve never been to the north.”

“Me neither. It’s far from the grand duchy, after all….”

Lunaria remembered that her former pack had travelled north. They might not have reached the farthest reaches of the continent, but they must have come close. For wolf-beastkin, biting cold was far more bearable than relentless heat.

As the two of them crossed the garden and made their way back into the castle, a few servants passed by.

They had been personally assigned by the Emperor after the Night of the Red Moon. Even now, they carried themselves as though they had never truly left the imperial palace. Time had done nothing to soften their habits.

They moved without a sound, their faces devoid of emotion.

They were nothing like Emma, who had arrived at the grand ducal residence by another route. Compared to her, they seemed to come from a completely different world.

The servants greeted Lunaria with only the minimum courtesy required by etiquette, then disappeared as swiftly and silently as they had appeared.

Only once they had gone did Emma exhale, as though she had finally been released from suffocation.

“I truly think the head housekeeper is the scariest person in the world.”

“She wasn’t among the people who just passed, Emma.”

“She’s behind them.”

“That may be so….”

When Emma first arrived at the Grand Ducal Residence, the Head Housekeeper gave her personal instructions. She still did not know why she had been chosen to work there, but she was extremely grateful to His Grace the Grand Duke.

“Now then, Miss. Since you’ve had your walk, it’s time to return to your books.”

“Ugh….”

“As a citizen of the Empire of Lumentis, you must know the empire’s history.”

“Real history is so dull.”

“But if you read your history book, it will soon be three o’clock. Surely you can endure that much?”

“…Emma, you handle me too well.”

Emma laughed softly.

“That’s only because you keep your promises, Miss. Not a promise to me—but to His Grace.”

“…Ha.”

Lunaria would have liked to take a longer stroll, but once Emma had mentioned Cassion, she knew she had to go back to her room. If she immersed herself in a dull history book in her study, the time she could spend with him would come sooner.

***

The Empire of Lumentis boasted a history spanning eight hundred years. Trying to remember the names of all its former emperors was enough to make Lunaria’s head throb.

Lunaria struggled to remember people’s names more than anything else. After copying passage after passage, she finally set down her quill and let out a weary sigh.

Reaching into her dress, she took out her pocket watch and checked the time.

“Ten minutes left… I suppose it would be all right to leave a little early?”

She had kept her head bent over the desk while studying her history book. At last, she stretched her stiff arms and rose from her seat.

When she stepped out of the study, she glanced around the private sitting room.

But for some reason, Emma was nowhere to be seen.

Instead of looking for Emma, Lunaria went into the dressing room on her own. She smoothed the wrinkles from her clothes, which had become rumpled during hours of study. Pressing down a few stray strands of hair with both hands, she studied her reflection in the full-length mirror. Once she was satisfied with her neat appearance, she left the room with light, eager steps.

Quick and nimble, she descended the stairs, unable to suppress the smile tugging at her lips as she made her way towards the conservatory. A sharp winter wind swept through the rear gate as she crossed the colonnade, but she found it invigorating rather than cold.

Gathering her skirts firmly in both hands, Lunaria broke into a run.

Anyone who witnessed it would have been scandalized by such a lack of decorum. But even as a half-blood, she was still beastkin. Moving at a human’s measured pace felt unbearably confining.

Free-spirited and brimming with the vitality of a wolf, she reached the conservatory in astonishing time. Convinced that she had arrived first, she flung open the door and rushed inside.

She came face-to-face with a pair of broad shoulders.

Her gaze lifted instinctively. Neatly swept-back golden hair came into view. Before she could take it all in, he turned his head.

Their eyes met — those piercing, icy blue eyes locking onto hers.

“I believe I told you not to run while wearing a dress.”

“…I’m sorry. I was in a hurry and broke my promise.”

In response to her candid reply, the firm line of Cassion’s mouth lifted slightly in quiet amusement. A faint trace of satisfaction lingered at the corners of his lips as he absently brushed them with his fingers. Then he nodded slightly, inviting her to sit down.

Lunaria, who had braced herself for a reprimand, let out a sheepish laugh and hurried to take the seat opposite him.

Cassion turned his gaze forward once more and subtly signaled to a servant waiting nearby with his chin. The servant approached at once, bearing a teapot.

Lunaria watched in silence as tea was poured into her cup. She straightened her back, lowered her chin slightly, and folded the hands that had so boldly gathered her skirts moments earlier neatly on her lap.

Outwardly, she was the very image of a flawless noble lady.

Cassion observed her closely — almost obsessively. It was as though he were searching for the slightest mistake, or perhaps simply committing every detail of her appearance to memory as he scanned her from head to toe.

Before long, the servant withdrew.

Only the two of them remained in the conservatory.

“Drink.”

He always spoke with formal courtesy, even to those far below his station. Yet the fact that he offered her only distant politeness left a faint ache in her chest. She wished he would treat her differently from anyone else in the world — more casually and intimately.

Lunaria lifted her teacup at the proper angle and took a delicate sip of the still-steaming tea, just as she had been taught. Although she did not fully understand the pleasure that humans found in it, she could appreciate its subtle green notes and lingering rose fragrance.

As she quietly savored the taste, it was Cassion who broke the silence first.

“Recently, I acquired a book related to the beastkin.”

After meeting her, he quietly started gathering information about the Beastkin. Since the war three hundred years ago, the Empire of Lumentis had been openly hostile towards them.

Because of this, even the most basic information was almost impossible to find, let alone any written records.

Yet he never stopped searching.

He did it for one reason alone: her well-being.

He had long suspected that humans and Beastkin differed physically, and he was right. The book he had finally obtained revealed something new — something he had not known before.

Cassion continued speaking, his voice as calm and measured as ever.

“It says that all beastkin experience a heat.”

He lifted his teacup, raising only his eyes to look at her over the rim. Then he finished,

“Why is it that you have not experienced one yet?”

Though she knew he was asking out of simple curiosity, her heart began to pound violently with unease.