The encounter with Jax affected Felix more than he let on, though he tried not to let it show. His pets, however, seemed to sense his conflicted thoughts as they wandered through the temple grounds. The lively atmosphere around them helped ease the tension, with the soft jingling of bells, the murmur of prayers, and the occasional laughter of visitors filling the air.

As they turned a corner near the main temple courtyard, they noticed a side hall set apart from the bustling crowd that was no less full of people as the wishing tree courtyard had been. Temple cats sat behind low wooden tables, arranging what appeared to be smooth, polished fish bones on their tables. Large, intricate bones, likely from sea creatures, were marked with delicate engravings of symbols, runes, and tiny pictographs. 

You c an fi nd t he la te st cha pte rs at ( th e bl mu se . c o m )

The signboard nearby read: Oracle Bone Readings—Find Guidance in the Tides of Fate. Under it in smaller print explained the offerings: career fortunes, love fortunes, and general life advice, each for a modest fee.

“Oracle bones?” Felix muttered, his curiosity piqued.

“Ooh, fortune-telling!” Virgil tilted his head, grinning. “I didn’t know Regal Ones believed in this stuff.”

“Many don’t,” Thel replied, his tone matter-of-fact. “But the temple has always blended tradition with cultural curiosity. Fortune-telling is just one of the many services that draw visitors.”

Albrecht’s eyes lit up, clearly interested. “Why not give it a try? I shall go first!”

The group approached one of the tables, where a serene-looking temple cat welcomed them with a slight bow. Her fur, white with mottled black, brown, and orange patches, looked very touchable in the sunlight filtering through the courtyard’s canopy.

Not that anyone would dare to pet her as it was considered gauche to pet a Regal One unless given permission. 

“Welcome to the Oracle Bone Reading,” she said, her voice calm and melodic. “What guidance do you seek today?”

Albrecht, sat down straight and confident, didn’t hesitate. “Love, of course.”

The temple cat gestured to the tray of polished bones with a paw. “Please choose three bones that resonate with you, and I will interpret their alignment.”

Albrecht studied the tray carefully, as though the bones might reveal their secrets if he stared hard enough. He finally selected three, laying them out on the table.

The temple cat arranged the bones in a triangular formation and traced the engraved symbols with the pad of her paw. Her eyes closed briefly, as if connecting with some unseen force.

“Your heart is loyal and devoted,” she said. “But your standards are high, perhaps too high. If you wish to find love, you must learn to balance your ideals with reality.”

Albrecht frowned. “I don’t settle,” he said firmly.

The temple cat flicked her ears. “Love is not about settling. It is about compromise. Keep that in mind.”

Virgil stepped forward next, grinning as he rubbed his hands together. “Alright, let’s see what the bones have to say about my love life.”

The temple cat swayed her tail patiently and gestured for him to select his bones. He picked three at random, placing them down after feeling them between his fingers in curiosity.

She arranged them into a crescent shape and examined them closely. “You are charming and magnetic, but your lighthearted nature often masks deeper insecurities. If you wish for true connection, you must first be honest with yourself about what you truly want.”

Virgil’s grin dropped slightly, though it quickly raised again, even brighter than before. “I guess I’ll have to think about that one.”

After him was Sorath who approached the table with an air of nonchalance. His sunglasses were still perched on his nose, though his lips displayed their usual roguish smirk. “Love,” he said simply with a little snap of his fingers.

The temple cat nodded and gestured for him to choose. Sorath picked three bones with little fanfare and handed them over.

Arranging the bones into a diagonal line, the temple cat studied the runes etched into their surface. “Your confidence is both your strength and your weakness,” she said. “You attract others easily, but lasting connections require sincerity. Do not be afraid to let someone see beyond the surface.”

Sorath maintained his devil-may-care smirk but he did straighten up from his slouch. He said nothing further as he stepped back, but his lips did seem to pout slightly in a thoughtful moue.

Thel’s turn came and he walked forward briskly, his expression calm and composed. “Career,” he said, selecting his bones with precision. Unlike his fellow pets, he had no interest in frivolous things like love.

The temple cat arranged them into a circular pattern and studied them intently. “You are ambitious and calculating, with the potential for great success. Your strength lies in your ability to strategize and execute plans with precision.”

Thel nodded, clearly pleased.

“However,” the temple cat added, “your calculating nature may hinder you. Not every situation will allow for the weighing of pros and cons. Sometimes, you must take risks and listen to what the heart wants.”

Thel’s brow furrowed slightly as he processed her words.

Felix finally stepped forward, last in line, feeling a little awkward. “Um, career, I guess.” Like Thel, he wasn’t very interested in love. What was most pressing, with the imminent combat trainee program looming ahead, was his career and means of livelihood in this world.

The temple cat’s eyes looked up at him briefly before she placed a paw on the table, the tip of her tail pointing at the bones. “Like the others, choose three that call to you.”

Felix gave the tray a cursory sweep and selected three bones, placing them carefully on the table. The temple cat arranged them into a triangular formation and traced the runes with the pad of her paw.

“You’re at a crossroads,” she began. “You’ve recently embarked on a new path, one that will test not only your physical strength but your determination and adaptability. Success lies ahead, but it will not come easily. You must remain open to learning from others and trust your instincts.”

Felix frowned slightly. It was vague, but her words sounded like good advice. “Anything else?”

Her tail swished enigmatically. “Learn to embrace yourself and the world around you. Even the strongest cannot achieve their goals alone.”

Felix thanked her quietly and stepped back to join the others.

After the readings, the group wandered further into the temple grounds until they reached a shaded pavilion. 

“So,” Virgil began, stretching lazily. “What did everyone think about those readings? Pretty wild, huh?”

Felix tapped thoughtfully at his chin. “I found mine rather insightful. She described my situation almost perfectly.”

Thel frowned. “I can’t say I agree. Letting emotions cloud your judgement is a sign of weakness, hardly a path to success.”

Albrecht also pursed his lips. “Likewise. What’s wrong with having high standards? I’d rather remain a bachelor than settle or ‘compromise’, whatever that means!”

Sorath remained silent, a contemplative look on his usually carefree countenance. It was clear that for him, his reading had hit too close to home. 

But the group didn’t ponder too much over whether the readings were truly accurate or not as a tantalizing aroma of grilled fish wafted through the air, making Felix’s stomach growl.

“Where’s that smell coming from?” Felix inhaled deeply, taking a few steps towards the source. The others also followed, feeling various degrees of hunger themselves.

“Ah! The famous fish lunch! I’ve been thinking of it even in my dreams over the past week,” Virgil exclaimed, gesturing animatedly to a discrete sign that read, “Free Lunch for All Visitors: A Blessing of the Night Hunter.”

A temple cat approached them, bowing politely. “Would you like to join us for lunch?”

“Yes, please,” Felix said, grateful for the invitation.

The temple cat led them to a long, low table in a private room reserved for small groups. Plates of steaming fish dishes were already set out, along with bowls of seaweed soup and an assortment of pickled vegetables. There was grilled fish seasoned with herbs, a big pot full of a rich, savory fish broth, and even fish balls on skewers glazed with a sweet soy sauce.

“This smells amazing,” Virgil said, already reaching for a skewer.

“Wait,” Albrecht snapped, swatting his hand away. “We should eat respectfully. This is a temple, not a street stall.”

Virgil rolled his eyes but waited as Felix said a quick word of thanks before they began eating.

The meal was quiet at first, everyone focused on the delicious food. But as they ate, they forgot all about the readings from earlier and found themselves relaxing, the savory flavors and fragrant aroma of the dishes filing their senses.

“This temple is incredible,” Felix finally broke the comfortable silence. “The fortune-telling, the wishing tree, the food… It’s a great way to spend a day with friends.”

“It’s a tourist trap,” Thel said, though he was on his second serving of fish.

“Maybe,” Felix admitted. “But it’s also kind of… nice. I can see why it’s so popular.”

Sorath grinned, raising his glass of iced green tea in a teasing toast. “Well, then it seems coming here was a good idea. Let’s hope the gods hear our prayers—to good luck and—”

You c an fi nd t he la te st cha pte rs at ( th e bl mu se . c o m )

“Felix not getting his tail handed to him tomorrow!” Virgil finished with wicked humor.

Felix huffed, but the others laughed, everyone joining in the impromptu toast, the atmosphere full of simple enjoyment and lighthearted cheer.

AN: trainee!Felix arc finally starts next chapter! 🐈‍⬛️🫡✨️

The sun was high in the sky, its warm rays bathing the capital of Mzia in a golden halo despite the early winter chill. Felix adjusted the strap of his satchel, no longer feeling self-conscious as he walked with his four human pets trailing behind him. 

It had been a week since he brought them home, and somehow, against all odds, they’d managed to establish a semblance of routine. Waking up, eating breakfast, exploring the city during the day, having lunch outside and then returning home to relax and share dinner together had become their daily rhythm. Felix had even started to feel a bit more at ease, even with Virgil’s antics and Thel’s pointed remarks popping up every now and then.

You c an fi nd t he la te st cha pte rs at ( th e bl mu se . c o m )

(He has a theory that this usually happens when there is a lull or when boredom sets in. Just so they can keep their harried owner, who no longer has a private life now, on his toes.)

Today, the group had planned a special outing to end the week-long “pet bonding week” before Felix had to report for his first day at the Combat Division—Virgil’s suggestion, naturally. They were heading to the Nine Lives Temple, a renowned site in the eastern part of the city.

“It’s where I got that good luck charm for you,” Virgil reminded him cheerfully, practically skipping as he led the way. “You know, the one that’s totally why you haven’t tripped and broken your neck yet.”

Felix shot him a look but said nothing. The good luck charm—a fluffy white cat’s paw (likely the equivalent to a rabbit’s foot in this world)—was now acting as a phone charm. He didn’t believe in superstitions, but it was cute.

The temple was a grand structure with a long history behind it, its design inspired entirely by Regal Ones. Polished statues of cats in various poses flanked the wide stone staircase leading to the main entrance, their brass surfaces gleaming in the sunlight. Intricate carvings of myths involving cat deities adorned the temple’s towering pillars, and an enormous wishing tree stood in the courtyard, its branches heavy with golden bells tied by visitors. The gentle tinkling of the bells filled the air, blending with the murmur of the crowd.

“It’s certainly lively,” Sorath remarked, donning a wide-brimmed hat and sunglasses. “Too lively. If one person recognizes me…”

“Relax, Mister Mzia,” Virgil teased. “We’re here to enjoy ourselves. Besides, not everyone cares about your pageant days.”

Sorath made to punch him but Virgil skipped gleefully out of the way. Not to be outdone, Sorath bounded after him and they scuffled like frisky pups.

Thel was already examining the temple’s carvings with keen interest. “Did you know this temple dates back nearly three centuries? It was commissioned by the Grand Council, the former incarnation of the Big 3, to honor the mythological origins of Regal Ones. The cat deity in the main hall of the temple is said to represent—”

“Let me guess,” Virgil interrupted. “A giant housecat that will eat you if you ever offend them?”

Thel sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. Felix, already accustomed to Virgil being flippant just for the sake of being flippant, simply rolled his eyes. “Virgil is actually not wrong for once. From what I’ve seen, the cat deities in old myths are rarely depicted as benevolent.”

“Hey, what do you mean not wrong for once!”

Albrecht, however, seemed to take the temple’s atmosphere more seriously. He scanned the courtyard, muttering to himself about finding the optimal spot to tie their wishing bells. “Placement is crucial,” he declared. “The higher the branch, the better the luck.”

“Albrecht,” Felix said, “I don’t think the temple cats are handing out ladders.”

Inside the courtyard, temple cats—Regal Ones in their various cat forms—weaved nimbly among the crowd, selling golden bells and cat’s paw charms in baskets hanging around their necks to visitors. Felix leaned down and bought a bell for himself as well as for each of his pets, who eagerly began writing their wishes.

Thel’s handwriting was meticulous as he inscribed his wish on the small slip of paper provided with his bell. “For efficiency and success in all endeavors,” he read aloud before tucking it inside the hollow bell and then tying it carefully on a branch.

Sorath, grinned as he scrawled, “For Felix to survive his first week without embarrassing himself too much.” Felix pinched him in vengeance, but Sorath only smirked and blew a kiss at him as he hung his bell alongside Thel’s.

Albrecht, with a serious expression, wrote in fancy script, “For our master to rise to greatness where he belongs.” He tied his bell to a particularly high branch, looking immensely satisfied with himself.

Finally, Virgil also finished scribbling something quickly, a mischievous glint in his eye. “For Felix to come home in one piece—preferably with both ears and tail still attached,” he announced. 

“Haha. Very funny guys.” Felix said with exasperation, “Is everyone done?”

“Not yet.” Virgil tucked his bell into his pocket. “I’m going to find the perfect branch.”

Felix shook his head and moved to tie his own bell. He had only written simply—“For health and happiness.”

As Felix adjusted the ribbon on his bell, a loud, boisterous laugh cut through the tinkling of the wishing bells. He turned reflexively to the source of the sound.

Standing near the wishing tree was a boy with a wild mane of blue and the yellow/amber eyes most common among Regal Ones. He was flanked by three human pets. The girls were identical triplets, their pastel dresses and soft flaxen curls making them look like porcelain dolls.

“Bloodstone!” The boy called out, spotting Felix. He strode over, grinning from ear to ear. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

Felix pasted on a polite smile, hiding his confusion and momentary panic at who this guy was to his original self. “Yes?”

The other boy’s pets followed close behind, their synchronized movements graceful, yes, but also definitely eerie to watch. “I’d like you to meet my girls—the Bloom sisters,” he said, gesturing to them proudly. “Annabelle, Arabella, and Ariella. They’re not just beautiful—they’re talented too. Last year, Arabella even won Miss Mzia.”

Sorath, standing nearby, muttered almost to himself. “So that’s where I’ve seen them before.” Unlike Sorath, the middle sister, Arabella seemed quite proud of her Miss Mzia title as she preened at her master’s praise.

The blue haired boy only spared Sorath a brief look before dismissing him to fix his attention on Felix, yellow eyes like the gaze of a cat looking at a mouse. “So,” he began, crossing his arms, “are you ready for the Combat Division? Or are you still clinging to your old school glory?”

Felix’s thoughts raced as he guessed this was one of his yearmates from the Ivory Sanctuary. On the surface, he only raised a cool brow. “I’m ready.”

“Are you?” The blue-haired boy’s smirk widened. “I remember our last spar. A tie, wasn’t it? You’re good, Bloodstone, but real combat training isn’t the same as student spars. You sure you’re ready to have the floor wiped with you?”

Felix bristled, instantly recalling the group chat he peeked in on a week ago. The one he apparently tied with in their end of the year spar was named… Jax Flintcroft? “We’ll see soon enough, won’t we, Flintcroft?”

“Confident. I like that.” Jax’s voice dripped with mockery.

Albrecht drew himself up like an affronted peacock and spoke loudly enough for Jax to hear, “Is that a chip on your shoulder?”

Jax’s grin faltered, and he almost looked like he wanted to retort back but his decorum as a Regal One clearly held him back. “Tell you what,” he said, leaning closer to Felix. “Let’s make this interesting. Whoever scores higher in the trainee program buys the other lunch for a week—and admits they’re second best.”

Felix hesitated. The idea of competing with Jax was more stressful than appealing, but he couldn’t back down now—not with Jax’s pets watching, not with his own pets nearby.

“Fine,” he said, extending his hand.

Jax’s grin widened as they shook on it. “Looking forward to it, Bloodstone.”

As Jax and his pets moved on, Felix let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

“That was not unexpected,” Thel remarked, his tone neutral. Clearly referring to the common cases of big headedness among young Regal Ones just stepping out of their ivory walls. It was why he thought Felix was so different—he lacked that cocksure attitude. 

“Your yearmate is full of himself, alright,” Sorath added. “You didn’t have to agree to his stupid bet.”

Felix shrugged, trying to seem unaffected. “It’s fine. I’ll just have to win.” This was something that he knew he would be facing ever since learning about his original self’s track record as some kind of combat genius.

Virgil reappeared, finally tying his bell to the wishing tree. “What did I miss?” he asked, looking around.

“Nothing important,” Felix said quickly, eager to change the subject.

Albrecht sighed tenderly. “Honestly, my dear, you’re far too noble for your own good.”

You c an fi nd t he la te st cha pte rs at ( th e bl mu se . c o m )

“…” Felix shook off the goosebumps that rose as a reaction. Though it did have the unintended effect of distracting him from feeling apprehension about the upcoming trainee program. 

As they moved on from the wishing tree, he glanced one last time at the bells swaying gently in the breeze, their golden surfaces catching the sunlight. 

AN: introducing new supporting characters, with more kitties coming soon 😼

Felix watched nervously. “Virgil, wait—what are you planning this time?”

Virgil grinned, producing a garish pink wig, a floral kimono-style wrap, oversized rhinestone encrusted sunglasses and an equally gaudy string of fake pearls from his seemingly bottomless bag. “Just trust me.”

“No, absolutely not—” Felix began, but Virgil was already wrapping himself in the kimono and donning the wig. Before anyone could stop him, he darted into the crowd, adjusting his ensemble on the go.

You c an fi nd t he la te st cha pte rs at ( th e bl mu se . c o m )

Virgil bulldozed through the throng of fans with dramatic flair, his voice rising to an earsplitting wail. “Sorath, you traitor!”

The crowd parted in stunned silence as Virgil pushed to the front, brandishing a fake handkerchief he’d somehow conjured.

“How could you?” Virgil shrieked, dabbing at the tears streaming down his face—or at least convincingly mimicked tears, thanks to the sunglasses that hid part of his face and a conveniently squirted water bottle hidden up his sleeve.

Felix’s mouth dropped open as he watched from the sidelines, horrified. “What is he doing?!”

Virgil continued, clutching at his chest as if mortally wounded. “I gave you my best years! My love! And this is how you repay me? Flaunting yourself in front of all these strangers like I meant nothing to you!”

The fans and admirers looked on, their expressions torn between shock and morbid fascination. It was like watching a train wreck—horrible, but impossible to look away.

“Wait… is that really his ex?” someone whispered.
“Did Mister Mzia have a secret lover?” another speculated.

Virgil leaned heavily on a lamppost as if his legs couldn’t hold up his weight from the grief, sobbing dramatically. “I can’t go on without you, Sorath! If you don’t take me back, I’ll… I’ll throw myself off the nearest building!”

The crowd collectively gasped, some even raising their phones to record the spectacle. 

The absurdity of the scene was enough to draw attention away from Sorath, who was frozen in disbelief and flushing red with outrage. He was so flabbergasted, he almost missed the advantage provided by the distraction to make his getaway. 

Luckily, Felix, now hiding behind the edge of his hoodie, hurried forward and grabbed Sorath by the wrist. He hissed sharply, “Come on,” pulling him away from the crowd.

All the while, he was muttering a mantra under his breath, “I don’t know him. I’ve never seen this man in my life—”

By the time Virgil finished his impromptu performance, Sorath was safely out of sight, and the group reconvened at a quieter corner of the street.

When Virgil rejoined the group, his wig askew and fake pearls rattling, the crowd had dispersed, still abuzz with the scandalous scene. Sorath leaned against the wall of a corner store a few feet away, his face twisted in a grimace.

“That,” Sorath said flatly, “was disturbing. Now I have to worry about my reputation taking a hit. Wasn’t there another way?”

“Effective, though, and that’s all you need,” Virgil replied with a smug grin, tossing the disguises back into his bag. He sounded completely unconcerned about his true identity being found out and becoming a public embarrassment himself. 

In fact, Felix almost suspected that Virgil would even relish in it and the ensuing conniption he would send his uptight parents into.

Albrecht crossed his arms, looking thoroughly disdainful. “St. Lilith, you’ve somehow managed to sink to an entirely new low. Congratulations.”

Even Thel, usually so judgemental, arched an eyebrow. “I… have no words.”

Virgil shrugged, unbothered. “You’re welcome, by the way.”

Felix sighed, pulling his hood further over his head. And as if asking the universe, “Why do these things always happen?”

As the group walked away from the scene, Sorath finally broke the unexpectedly comfortable silence. “For the record, this is why I hate being recognized. Fame sucks.”

“You were Mister Mzia, right?” Felix asked, still processing the revelation. No wonder Sorath attracted such a crowd back at the Pet Bureau that day of the choosing ceremony. They were just lucky that everyone was more concerned about meeting their new master or pet.

Sorath grumbled, kicking at a stray pebble. “Unfortunately.”

Virgil, munching on a chocolate bar, interjected, “So says the guy who won Mister Mzia, the most prestigious beauty pageant in town, other than Miss Mzia of course.”

Sorath shot him a glare. “That wasn’t by choice. I was twenty, for crying out loud. You think I want to parade around in front of cameras and judges like some… showpiece?

“My mother strong-armed me into it. It was all part of her plan to position me as the perfect pet for some elite Regal One.”

Albrecht nodded knowingly. “The Goodwine family, correct? Renowned for their connections, through marriages and the master/pet bonds. Your mother is quite the matriarch.”

“‘Connections’ is putting it mildly,” Sorath muttered, a bitter edge to his voice. “She’s obsessed with status and appearances. Everything we did growing up was orchestrated by her. This pageant nonsense was just the latest scheme. Entering me into Mister Mzia was just another way to climb the social ladder.”

Felix patted his arm commiseratingly. “That sounds rough. Did you ever try to tell her no?”

Sorath let out a dry laugh. “You don’t say no to my mother. Not unless you want to be disowned.”

“What about your father?” Felix asked hopefully.

Sorath snorted, “Him? He doesn’t have a single thought of his own. Must’ve been why she chose to marry him in the first place.”

“…” A controlling mother and a deadbeat father? Felix regretted asking.

Virgil, now making his way through a bag of cheese chips, quipped, “I hear you. But at least you only have mommy issues. Try having both of them breathing down your necks.”

“I, for one, think you shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth. No matter the motives, at least your mother did it all with your future in mind.” Thel suddenly cut in coldly.

Felix was reminded again that Thel was an orphan and a prestigious event like Mister Mzia wasn’t an opportunity that just anyone could have.

Sorath looked frustrated but didn’t deny it. “She’s… complicated. I know she thinks she’s doing what’s best for the family, but sometimes it feels like I’m just a pawn in her game.”

Felix studied Sorath’s expression, noting the tired unhappiness beneath his usual bravado. “You’re more than that, you know. Whatever your mother’s plans were, they don’t define you. Especially now that you have come of age and have your own life now.”

Sorath blinked, sensing the sincerity in Felix’s tone. A faint smile crossed his lips, taking on that familiar roguish edge once again. “Thanks, Felix. You’re right. I’m no longer under her thumb. I’m at the mercy of my cute master now.”

Felix flushed. Did he have to say it like that?! And that wasn’t what he meant!

Virgil smirked, nudging Felix with his elbow. “Look at you, playing the protective master who supports his pets. So wholesome.”

Felix elbowed him back with a roll of his eyes, but he couldn’t suppress a small smile. 

As the group continued their outing, the heavier subject of difficult family members began to dissipate. Felix couldn’t help but feel like he had a better understanding of his unusual companions.

They were a handful, no doubt, but moments like these reminded him that they were more than just pets or responsibilities. They were individuals, each with their own stories, struggles, and strengths.

And somehow, Felix thought, as Sorath cracked a joke to lighten the mood and Virgil tried to convince everyone to try anchovy flavored lollipops, they were starting to feel a little like a family.

As the sun began to set, the group made their way back to Sphinx Tower, laden with shopping bags and snacks. Despite the chaos of the day, there was a newfound sense of camaraderie among them.

Virgil lounged on the carpet, munching on seaweed crackers from his neverending snack stash. Albrecht sifted through fancy boxes of clothes with a critical eye, while Thel quietly read one of his new books. Sorath stretched out on an armchair, looking unusually relaxed.

Felix flopped onto the couch and watched them under half-lidded eyes. It had been a tiring day, but it had to be said that Thel was right to include “team-building” activities if this was the result—them beginning to find their place, not just in his life, but in each other’s as well.

(Though, Felix had some doubts that Thel’s idea of team-building probably didn’t look anything like how it turned out today.)

“Tomorrow,” Felix muttered to himself, “we’re staying in.”

Virgil overheard and grinned. “Good luck with that.”

Felix picked up a candy wrapper and threw it at him. Virgil returned fire, only to miss and hit Albrecht. Well, that disturbed the hornet’s nest and the living room soon devolved into flying goose feathers from pillows, rolled up tissue paper printed with fancy brand logos and colorful snack wrappers.

You c an fi nd t he la te st cha pte rs at ( th e bl mu se . c o m )

Even as Felix bemoaned the cleanup afterwards while diving behind the couch, he couldn’t help but laugh. 

His life had become a lot more interesting—and maybe even a little brighter—with these four by his side.

AN: Thoughts on an official non-ai generated cover?

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The bustle of the city surrounded them—pedestrians going about their day, vintage cars zipping through the wide spacious streets, and the hum of lively conversation between pets and their masters.

“They’re not used to being out in the world, are they?” Felix asked after a moment, breaking the silence.

“No,” Thel replied, his voice calm and expression neutral. “Most humans aren’t. We’re rarely allowed outside unless accompanied by a Regal One, and even then, it’s usually under strict supervision.”

You c an fi nd t he la te st cha pte rs at ( th e bl mu se . c o m )

Felix frowned, it was inconceivable to be so restricted. “Why?”

“It’s safer that way,” Thel said simply. “We’re considered vulnerable. Fragile and in need of cherishing. The younger we are, the more tightly we’re guarded. Humans under twenty are typically kept within finishing schools or other controlled environments until they’re chosen by a Regal One.”

Felix’s frown deepened. “That sounds… stifling.”

He looked around at the surroundings that were designed to cater to both species, with wide sidewalks and plenty of open-air cafes. For a moment, Felix felt conflicted. His pets were just as unfamiliar with this world as he was, and they had spent so long confined to their previous lives.

Thel glanced at him, dark eyes assessing. “It can be. But it’s the system. And we humans are not completely without choice. We can also ‘choose’ our masters as well. The Nurterer Division ensures humans are raised in ways that maximize their potential and societal contributions.”

Felix raised an eyebrow. “The Nurterer Division… that’s the one that oversees the Ivory Sanctuary, right?”

“Yes,” Thel confirmed. “They’re responsible for nurturing the best and brightest Regal Ones—the future leaders, combat elites, and societal pillars. But their influence extends beyond that. They also manage human orphanages and finishing schools for pets, shaping human pets into valuable companions.”

Felix tilted his head, intrigued. “I always thought the Nurterer Division was… less important than the other two. Leader Division commands respect, and Combat Division carries the burden of defense. Nurterers just seemed, I don’t know, like caretakers.”

Thel’s lips curved in a faint smile, his first genuine expression since Felix had met him. “That’s a common misconception. Their work isn’t as glamorous or visible, but it’s no less vital. Without them, there would be no polished pets, no future leaders, and no stability in society.”

Felix absorbed this new perspective, his arms swinging thoughtfully. “I know you received a fellowship to attend the Ivory Sanctuary for two years. Did you go to one of their schools before that?”

“Yes,” Thel said, his voice quieter now. “I grew up in one of their orphanages and tuition at their finishing schools is free for us.”

Felix looked up in surprise. “An orphanage?”

Thel nodded, his gaze fixed ahead. “It wasn’t bad. The Nurterer Division provides a stipend for each child in their care—enough for food, clothing, and education. But that’s all it covers. Anything beyond the basics, like toys or books outside of school materials, was… out of reach.”

Felix studied Thel’s composed expression, a pang of empathy stirring within him. “That must have been hard.”

“It wasn’t ideal,” Thel admitted, his voice steady. “But it was fair. I had what I needed to grow up healthy and educated. And I learned early on how to focus on what truly mattered.”

“Like your future,” Felix observed perceptively.

Thel’s intense dark gaze fixed onto Felix’s own holly berry ones. “Exactly.” He made no secret of his driven, ambitious nature.

Their conversation paused as they passed a small bookstore with an intricately painted sign that read Whiskered Pages. Thel’s gaze lingered on the storefront, his usually sharp eyes softening imperceptibly.

“Do you want to go in?” Felix asked, following his line of sight.

Thel hesitated, his expression unreadable. “I don’t want to impose.”

“You want to,” Felix interrupted, a knowing smile playing on his lips. “Come on.”

Before Thel could protest further, Felix opened the door, the soft chime of a bell welcoming them inside.

The bookstore was cozy and quiet, the scent of hand bound books mingling with faint traces of coffee from a corner café. Rows of wooden shelves stretched to the ceiling, filled with books of every genre imaginable.

Thel stepped inside cautiously, his gaze sweeping over the shelves with a mixture of curiosity and longing. His usually rigid posture seemed to relax, his fingers brushing lightly against the spines of the books as if they were fragile treasures.

Felix watched him raptly. He could almost imagine a little dark haired boy saving his leftover stipend money to buy a book on one of the rare outings to the city the orphanage and schools must’ve organized every now and then. “You really like books, huh?”

Thel nodded, his voice unconsciously taking on a hushed cadence. “Books were my escape growing up. They were the one indulgence I could afford, even if I had to borrow them or save for them for a long time.”

“What do you like to read?” Felix asked, genuinely curious.

“Historical strategy,” Thel replied promptly. “Stories of war, political intrigue, the rise and fall of civilizations. There’s always something to learn.”

Felix couldn’t help but side-eye Thel. A history buff, specifically on military and politics. Who would’ve thought? “You know, you’re the first person I’ve seen smile at the thought of war.”

Thel glanced at him, a flicker of amusement in his dark eyes. “War isn’t the point. Understanding the mechanics of power, the strategies, decisions and consequences—that’s what interests me.”

Felix couldn’t help asking in curiosity, “Is that why you chose a Regal One from the Combat Division? But why not the Leader Division then?”

After learning that pets could also choose their masters, at least within a sense, he was instantly intrigued by the reasoning and motives of his own humans.

Thel gave him a slow sweep from head to toe and then back up again from over the top of an open book. It was a strange combination of clinical and also something more suggestive. Felix didn’t know whether to blush or not. So he settled on raising an eyebrow in question.

Thel finally opened his mouth to answer, “Among the Regal Ones who chose me, there were indeed some from the Leader Division.” At this, Thel paused before continuing meaningfully, “But none of them showed potential to reach S-Rank.”

He dipped his head slightly in a polite nod, “There were many factors in play, but I’d say that was the deciding one for me. If you look at the histories of the existing S-Rank Regal Ones, nearly more than half come from the Combat Division.” 

Thel flashed a pearly smile at Felix’s stunned expression. “And I thought my chances would be higher with a fighter than a paper pusher or a ‘caregiver’ as you say.”

He then strode off in a visibly good mood. Leaving Felix to stare after him, already round eyes looking even more rounded.

Felix didn’t know whether to be flattered or amused. But one thing was for sure, Thel had completely overthrown his initial perception of him. The man wasn’t just a blunt jerk. He was also an ambitious history buff with a gambling streak.

Unfortunately for Thel, Felix didn’t think he would be reaching S-Rank any time soon, or if ever.

After a while, Thel selected a small stack of books and approached the register. He hesitated, his fingers brushing over the spines as if weighing his decision.

“They’re a bit… expensive,” Thel murmured, his voice carefully neutral.

Before he could put the books back, Felix stepped forward and handed over his credit card. “I’ve got it.”

Thel blinked, his composure slipping for a moment. “Felix, you don’t have to—”

“I want to,” Felix interrupted, his eyes taking on a look of determination. “What kind of owner lets their pet pay for their own purchases?” Albrecht was the anomaly here. Even among pets who came from wealthy backgrounds—due mostly to their parents being pets of wealthy Regal Ones working in the financial and commerce sectors—they relied on their own masters to provide for them. Not the other way around. 

From their parents’ masters to their own masters, most humans never had to worry about their livelihood. And even for humans like Thel who had no parents, there was the Nurterer Division to fall back on.

Thel stared at him, a flicker of emotion crossing his face—gratitude, perhaps, though it was quickly masked by his usual calm. “Thank you,” he said quietly.

Felix waved him off, feeling a warmth spread through his chest. “It’s nothing.”

As the clerk bagged the books, Thel glanced at Felix, his expression thoughtful. “You’re… not what I expected.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Felix said, smiling.

Thel didn’t respond, though the attentive look in dark eyes became more focused when they landed on Felix’s face.

The moment was interrupted by the sudden arrival of Virgil, who appeared out of nowhere with a large bag of snacks slung over his shoulder and a maniacal grin on his face as if he’d just pulled off a daring heist.

“There you are!” he called out. “I thought you got lost.”

“That’s what I want to say,” Felix retorted. 

“Well, anyway. Thought you might want to try some of this,” he said casually, tossing the bag at Felix.

Felix caught it, sighing. “Virgil, where did you even get these?”

“Sweet shops, cake shops, pastry shops,” Virgil replied with a shrug. “Figured you’d appreciate a little variety. Oh! And I also got you something special.”

He rummaged through the bag, pulling out a small, peculiar trinket—a cat’s paw. “The Nine Lives Temple was giving it out. A good luck charm,” Virgil explained with a smirk, handing it to Felix.

Felix stared at the trinket. “Thanks, I think.” It was kind of cute.

Albrecht arrived next, several shop assistants laden with expensive-looking shopping bags trailing behind him. He flashed a satisfied smile, clearly having wiped through the inventories of the boutiques on the block for luxury shopping they had been earlier.

“Ah, there you are, my dear,” Albrecht exclaimed, green eyes gleaming. “I picked out a few more essentials for you. You must let me see you try them on later.”

“…” Was he now Albrecht’s life size barbie doll?! Outwardly, Felix could only say thanks, albeit a bit warily. 

“There’s no need for thanks between master and pet,” Albrecht replied with a dismissive wave.

Felix’s eye twitched and he was just about to attempt—again—to rectify Albrecht’s extravagance, when he realized someone was missing. He glanced around, his brows furrowing in concern.

“Where’s Sorath?” he asked.

Virgil shrugged. “No idea. Last I saw, he was outside.”

Albrecht browsed disinterestedly through the collection of cheap fountain pens at the display case next to the cashier. “There is a mechanic shop nearby. Probably got distracted by something to add onto that bike of his.”

Felix frowned, stepping toward the door. “We should find him.”

The group followed him outside, where they were immediately greeted by a commotion a few steps down the street. A small crowd of humans and Regal Ones had gathered, their phones raised to snap pictures and record videos. In the middle of the frenzy stood Sorath, his usually relaxed demeanor replaced by visible annoyance.

Felix became more bewildered as he approached the scene, catching snippets of excited chatter.

“It’s him! Mister Mzia!”
“He’s even more gorgeous in person!”
“Isn’t he the winner from last year?”

Felix blinked, glancing back at Virgil and Albrecht. “Mister Mzia?”

Albrecht chuckled, clearly amused. “Oh, you didn’t know? Sorath was last year’s winner of the Mister Mzia pageant. Quite the achievement, though I imagine he’d rather not be reminded.”

Virgil smirked. “That explains the crowd. Guess fame isn’t as glamorous as it seems.”

You c an fi nd t he la te st cha pte rs at ( th e bl mu se . c o m )

Felix groaned, rubbing his temple. “Great. How do we get him out of there?”

As the group debated how to extract Sorath from the crowd, Virgil suddenly smacked a fist against his palm, eyes sparkling with mischief. “I’ve got this,” he said, already rifling through his bag of snacks.

AN: It’s finally Thel’s turn for some characterization 😌

Has anyone changed their perception of him after this chapter? 🤔

The bustling downtown district of Mzia Capital was alive with energy, a kaleidoscope of sights, sounds, and smells. Towering glass buildings reflected the morning sunlight, while streets teemed with a mix of humans and Regal Ones going about their day. Shops displayed colorful wares in their windows, and cafes spilled over with lively patrons. Somewhere in the distance, a street performer’s saxophone weaved an enchanting melody through the air.

Felix led his group through the crowded streets, his silvery-white hair catching the light as he tried to maintain some semblance of order. His four pets trailed behind—or, more accurately, around him—each moving at their own pace, making it impossible to keep everyone together for long.

You c an fi nd t he la te st cha pte rs at ( th e bl mu se . c o m )

Albrecht—having won two out of three games of rock paper scissors much to everyone’s chagrin—steered the group toward an upscale boutique, its polished glass doors flanked by two impeccably dressed attendants. “We absolutely must get you a proper wardrobe,” Albrecht declared, ushering Felix inside before he could protest.

Because apparently, hoodies and combat boots were not proper wear.

The boutique’s polished floors gleamed under the soft glow of chandelier lights, and racks of tailored clothing were displayed like art pieces. Albrecht was in his element, speaking with the staff as though he owned the place—all the while determinedly carrying out his shopping spree as if it was not just fun but also a matter of the utmost importance.

The other three had wisely slipped away to some other part of the boutique the instant they were corralled through the doors. Leaving Felix to fend for himself as an unwilling participant in this whirlwind of fabrics, colors, and relentless commentary. 

“These garments,” Albrecht explained as he pulled Felix toward a fitting room, “are designed specifically for Regal Ones. They shift seamlessly with your transformations, ensuring you’re never… exposed.”

Felix blinked. “That’s a thing?”

“Of course,” Albrecht said, rolling his eyes. “You didn’t think your clothes would miraculously reappear after you transformed, did you?”

Felix flushed, recalling his transformations during the day of the choosing ceremony and how his clothes had remained intact. He’d assumed it was standard for Regal Ones, kind of like the cat version of magical girls. But apparently, his clothes were made of this special material and he wasn’t any the wiser. 

“They’re expensive, naturally,” Albrecht continued, “but for someone of your status, they’re a necessity.”

Felix’s lips twitched in speechlessness. He asked hopefully, gesturing to the pile in his arms, “Well, is this all the clothes, then?”

Albrecht widened his clear green eyes, as if not spending an entire morning in fitting rooms was inconceivable. “Have you forgotten the fitting part? We’ve barely started!”

Before Felix could argue further, like who needs to try out the clothes when the size is correct and next time can they do the shopping online instead, a cheery voice interrupted.

“Hello there, sir!”

A salescat, a tall Regal One with chestnut-brown hair, and an overly cheerful voice, appeared seemingly out of nowhere. She wore a bright smile that screamed corporate enthusiasm.

“I couldn’t help but notice you browsing! Might I suggest this?” the salescat beamed, holding up an ensemble that could only be described as aggressively shiny. It consisted of a metallic silver blazer and matching pants that seemed to reflect the light with every movement. The fabric looked plastic and shiny, like vinyl, and Felix could feel his mouth dropping in silent horror.

“Absolutely not,” Felix began, but the salescat ignored him, holding the outfit closer.

“Now, now, this is a bestseller! Perfect for someone with your complexion. Just imagine how you’ll steal the show at any event—”

Albrecht swooped in like a knight in vintage suit armor, cutting off the salescat with a dazzling yet biting smile. “Miss, while your enthusiasm is… commendable, my master has far more refined tastes.”

He plucked the shiny monstrosity from the salescat’s hands and tossed it back onto the rack with a flourish. “Come along, dearest. We have real clothes to try.”

Wanting to put some distance between himself and that fashion mishap, Felix allowed Albrecht to whisk him toward the fitting rooms without much protest. The salescat was left staring after them with a fixed smile that now seemed more strained than cheerful.

The fitting room was spacious, lined with mirrors that reflected every angle and a plush bench that matched the theme of opulence. Felix stood awkwardly in the center, holding the pile of clothes Albrecht had deemed suitable.

“You don’t need to come in with me,” Felix said, glancing nervously at the door.

“Nonsense,” Albrecht replied, stepping inside and closing the door behind him. “It’s a pet’s duty to serve their master. Besides, I’ve dressed the Great Me countless times before. You’re in expert hands.”

Felix would have facepalmed but his hands were a little busy at the moment. In any case, the flush that was crawling up his neck to his face was already enough to make his point. “I can handle it myself.”

Albrecht blinked those green eyes, before affecting a moue of disappointment. “But dearest, I only wish to help.”

“Out,” Felix insisted flatly.

Albrecht sighed dramatically, a hand over his heart. “You wound me, my master. But if you insist…” He gave Felix a lingering look, leaf green eyes with a particular shine in them, before stepping out with an overly exaggerated slump to his shoulders.

The door clicked shut, leaving Felix alone in the fitting room, his face burning as he tried to regain his composure.

On the other side of the door.

Albrecht was met with the unimpressed stares of Sorath, Virgil, and Thel, who had all wandered back toward the fitting rooms, originally out of curiosity—or, in Virgil’s case, to laugh at Felix at his expense. Only to discover that the fool was them, apparently.

Virgil tilted his head, his expression a mix of mock concern and faux sweetness. “What’s the matter, Fitzgerald? Did our dear master not appreciate your… services?”

Albrecht sniffed, straightening his cravat with a flourish. “Unlike some people, I am perfectly capable of showing affection with class and sophistication.

“At least I did not sneak into someone’s bedroom at four in the morning.”

Virgil’s honey fake smile faltered, before renewing in greater degree. “And Felix has invited me back anytime for another early morning call.”

This time, it was Virgil on the receiving end of unimpressed stares.

The exchange earned the attention of several nearby salescats and salespeople, who had paused mid-task to watch this unfiltered drama unfold. Their eyes shone with the light of gossip, and a few exchanged raised eyebrows, clearly intrigued by the dynamic between this Regal One and his human pets.

Not that any of the men noticed, too busy staring each other down. 

When Felix finally emerged from the dressing room, dressed in one of the outfits Albrecht had chosen—an ivory silk blazer paired with tailored black trousers—the conversation came to an abrupt halt.

“You look divine,” Albrecht declared with genuine praise, looking pleased.

Sorath smirked, snapping a picture with his phone “Looking sharp, boss.”

Felix frowned, “Oh, and where were you guys when I needed your help earlier?”

“Oh, would you look at that bolo tie! It has my name written on it!” Virgil dashed off.

Sorath looked up at the ceiling and Thel also looked as exasperated as Felix felt. The only one happy was Albrecht. 

As they made their way to the register, Felix couldn’t shake the feeling of being part of a very strange spectacle. The salespeople and cats’ curious glances followed them, and he caught snippets of whispered conversations.

“Did you see how possessive they were?”
“Definitely the jealous sort.”
“Bold, aren’t they?”

Felix walked a little faster. It figures they would be the spectacle wherever they go. And just because Felix wanted to leave those stares as quickly as possible, he didn’t fight nearly as hard with Albrecht over who got to pay for the purchases. (Not that he would’ve won, anyway.)

But this only prompted another round of whisperings and stares. And was that disapproval he saw?

“Ready to go?” Sorath asked as they exited the boutique, the golden afternoon light casting long shadows on the sidewalk.

“More than ready,” Felix replied, clutching the bags Albrecht had insisted on carrying for him.

*

As the group exited the boutique, the bustling energy of the downtown district enveloped them. Felix, still flushed from Albrecht’s antics and the prying eyes of the salespeople/cats, was ready for a breather. The group had been loud, lively, and chaotic—but now, somehow, he found himself walking alone with Thel.

“Wait… where is everyone?” Felix asked, glancing around.

Thel adjusted the cuffs of his crisp white shirt with a nonchalant air. “Fitzgerald mentioned crepes. St. Lilith and Goodwine seemed equally distracted by a shop selling something called bubble tea across the street. I wouldn’t be surprised if they’ve wandered off entirely.”

“…” Felix wisely changed the subject. “I’ve been meaning to ask, why do you guys refer to each other using your last names? Isn’t it a bit too formal? Besides, I feel like ‘St. Lilith’ is more of a mouthful than ‘Virgil’.”

Thel’s dark eyes shifted briefly to Felix before looking ahead again. “Not particularly.”

“…”

Well. This one was a conversation ender. Felix never thought he might actually miss the others’ chatter and antics.

Likely picking up on the awkwardness, Thel gestured to the street ahead. “Shall we keep walking? I imagine they’ll find their way back eventually.”

You c an fi nd t he la te st cha pte rs at ( th e bl mu se . c o m )

With a nod, Felix fell into step beside Thel, confused but grateful for the man’s offer. The next second, Felix wanted to slap himself at actually being grateful over the tiny morsel of consideration the other threw at him.

This was called Stockholm syndrome, wasn’t it?! Wasn’t it?!

AN: I was actually torn over keeping cat transformations like magical girl transformations where their clothes miraculously shift with them or put a magitech spin to the clothes they wear. But then I thought how the latter would provide a lot of opportunities for comic relief if Felix is ever caught having to transform in regular clothes and not this Shifterwear™ 😆

Felix’s morning began with something tickling his nose.

In the haze of half-consciousness, he twitched his head to the side, trying to escape the sensation. It persisted—soft, feathery, and maddening. With a grumble, he swatted lazily at his face.

A quiet chuckle sounded nearby.

You c an fi nd t he la te st cha pte rs at ( th e bl mu se . c o m )

Felix’s eyes snapped open to find Virgil’s face mere inches from his own. He was sitting cross-legged on the carpet, his elbows resting on the edge of the bed, holding a strand of Felix’s silver-white hair delicately between his fingers. He was using it to brush under Felix’s nose with an almost childlike fascination.

And as if to emphasize that he was dealing with a childish man, Virgil’s hair was a messy nest and he actually wore bright teddy bear pajamas. 

“Good morning, sunshine,” Virgil said, his grin wide and unapologetic. “Did you sleep well?”

Felix’s brain stuttered as it processed the scene. A strange man, sitting at face level with him. A strange man, in his bedroom. A strange man, messing with his hair.

His response was immediate and involuntary—a shriek loud enough to rattle the furniture.

Virgil burst into laughter, sitting back on his heels as Felix instinctively scrambled backward, his heart hammering in his chest, and with a soft poof, his ears and tails materialized.

“What the hell are you doing?” Felix demanded, clutching his blanket tightly around himself.

Virgil blinked, a delighted smile replacing the mirthful laughter. “Wow. You’re even cuter than I thought when you’re flustered.”

Before that dubious praise could sink in, he felt a strange sensation against his tail—a light, tentative stroke. His head whipped around to see Virgil holding his tail, his expression one of pure awe as he gave the soft fur an experimental pet.

“It’s so warm and fluffy,” Virgil said reverently, as if Felix’s tail was a miracle of the modern world.

Felix’s face burned crimson, caught somewhere between mortification and… was that pleasure? A small purr rumbled in his chest before he clamped his hands over his mouth, horrified. “Let go of my tail!”

“Don’t be shy,” Virgil teased, giving the fur one last admiring stroke before finally releasing it. “You should show these off more often. They’re adorable.”

Felix’s ears flattened against his head in embarrassment. “I don’t want to show them off!”

“Shame,” Virgil said with a shrug, though the amused glint in his eyes suggested he didn’t regret his actions one bit.

Before Felix could retaliate, the door flew open, and Albrecht burst in like a scene from a melodrama. His silk eye mask had been pushed up onto his forehead, and he clutched the lapels of a hastily donned silk bathrobe that still managed to flutter dramatically as he entered.

“What’s going on? Do you need help, dearest?” Albrecht asked, his tone demanding but still somehow showing concern. His eyes landed on Felix’s disheveled form and then on Virgil, who had now flopped onto the carpet with a grin. 

Albrecht’s expression soured. “Of course, it’s you.”

Virgil gave a lazy wave from the floor. “Morning, Peacock. You’re just in time to witness Felix’s adorable wake-up routine.”

Felix, feeling like he had finally found some support, pointed an accusatory finger at Virgil. “He was watching me sleep! And—and—he touched my tail!”

Albrecht’s brows shot up, and his lips curled into a sneer of disdain. “Even for you, that’s grotesquely uncouth. Do you not understand the concept of boundaries?”

However, undermining his words was the way he stepped further into the room, his eyes zeroing in on Felix’s ears with what could only be described as blatant admiration. He murmured as if speaking to himself, “Soft, pristine fur, perfect proportions… Exquisite.”

“Pot~ kettle~” Virgil sang, smirking knowingly.

Felix buried his face in his hands, groaning. He decided to ignore Albrecht and addressed the main problem here. “Why were you even in my room?”

Virgil, looking entirely too pleased with himself, propped his chin on his hand. “I couldn’t sleep, so I came to hang out with you. Got here around four. You’re a surprisingly peaceful sleeper for someone so high-strung.”

Felix stared at him, flabbergasted. “You were in here for hours?”

Virgil nodded, completely unrepentant.

Albrecht scoffed, adjusting the sash of his robe. “And people call me high-maintenance.” He turned to Felix with a look of genteel indignation. “My dear, might I suggest some house rules for this one?”

“…” Felix seriously contemplated the suggestion. That was how far out of his mind he was.

“But, if that’s all, I’ll return to my morning routine. I do have a self-care regimen to maintain.” Seeing that nothing was amiss with his master other than an annoying fellow pet, Albrecht turned on his heel and swept out of the room, the image of unflappable elegance.

As the door closed behind Albrecht, Felix turned back to Virgil, who was still lounging on the carpet like he was the cat overlord here.

“You watched me sleep,” Felix repeated, his tone flat. Clearly not willing to let Virgil off the hook yet.

Virgil shrugged again, a carefree gesture that did nothing to calm Felix’s temper. “Yup. You looked peaceful. It was oddly therapeutic.”

Felix glared, ears twitching in irritation. “That’s not normal.”

“Normal’s boring,” Virgil said cheerfully, leaning back on his hands.

Felix facepalmed. “Virgil, seriously. If you can’t sleep, you need to tell me. Sneaking into my room and scaring the shit out of me is not the solution.”

Virgil’s watched him, and for a fleeting moment, there was a hint of something more vulnerable in his expression. “It’s not a big deal. I’ve had insomnia for years. I’m used to it.”

Felix hesitated, his irritation warring with a growing sense of sympathy. He wasn’t entirely sure how to handle this. Virgil’s flippant attitude made it easy to dismiss his problems, but Felix couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to it than he was letting on.

“Virgil,” Felix said finally, his voice firm, and Virgil blinked in surprise at the sudden shift in tone. “If it happens again, tell me. Don’t sneak around, don’t do… whatever else you did before to cope. Just wake me up, okay?”

Virgil tilted his head, studying Felix curiously. “You’d let me wake you up in the middle of the night? Just like that?”

“Yes,” Felix said without hesitation. “I’d rather lose a little sleep than find out you’ve been… I don’t know, doing something weird or self-destructive.”

For a moment, Virgil looked genuinely taken aback. Then his usual grin returned, softer this time. “You’re a strange one, Felix. But… thanks.”

Felix nodded, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. “Just don’t make it a habit, okay? I still need sleep too.”

“No promises,” Virgil said with a wink, though there was a warmth in his tone that made Felix think he’d actually take the offer seriously.

As Virgil finally left the room, whistling his usual jaunty tune, Felix flopped back onto the bed with a sigh. His tail twitched involuntarily, still warm from another hand not his own petting it.

This wasn’t how he’d imagined starting his day as a Regal One with a full household of human pets.

But despite his complaints, he couldn’t deny the faint sense of satisfaction that lingered. It was exhausting, yes, but for the first time in a long time, Felix felt like he was starting to understand what it meant to be responsible for someone else—and maybe, just maybe, he was beginning to care for them in ways he hadn’t expected.

*

In the attached bathroom, Felix splashed cold water on his face. He looked into the mirror, catching sight of his fluffy white ears and swishing tail. He glared, concentrating until they disappeared with a soft shimmer. At least he was getting increasingly good at controlling his ears and tail.

Stepping back into his bedroom, Felix took a moment to gather himself. His apartment in the sleek and modern Sphinx Tower was apparently arranged by the Pet Bureau. It had five bedrooms, each with an attached bathroom, and his human pets had moved in yesterday after the choosing ceremony.

The day before had gone surprisingly well after the formalities. They’d shared a pleasant lunch, and the group had even managed to move in without much fuss. Felix had gone to bed optimistic about their future together. And he still was, Virgil’s surprise attack notwithstanding.

Too bad for Felix, his hopes for a peaceful morning were instantly dashed when he stepped into the kitchen.

The rich, smoky aroma of cooking salmon hit his nose. For a moment, it was almost comforting—until he saw the state of the kitchen. Sorath was at the stove, wearing loose sweat pants and a tank top, wielding a fork as he flipped a piece of fish in a pan. The counter was a battlefield of breadcrumbs, open jars, and stray slices of lemon.

“Sorath,” Felix started, his voice taking on an ominous edge, “what are you doing?”

“Making breakfast,” Sorath said nonchalantly, glancing over his shoulder. He grinned. “Morning, boss. You hungry?”

“That’s not the point,” Felix replied, trying to keep his tone calm. “Why are you using a fork on a non-stick pan? And did you have to—” He gestured at the disaster zone that used to be his kitchen.

“Relax,” Sorath said, waving the fork dismissively. “I’ll clean it up later. Here, try this.” He plated a slice of toast topped with smoked salmon, cream cheese, and a sprinkle of herbs, sliding it across the counter to Felix.

Felix hesitated but took a bite. The flavors were perfectly balanced, the salmon tender and smoky. He blinked in surprise. “This is… actually good.”

“Of course it is,” Sorath said with a smirk. “I don’t half-ass things, even if I use a fork instead of a spatula.”

Before Felix could respond, Albrecht swept into the room, still dressed in that opulent silk robe, hair perfect and skin glowing—clearly his primping had been completed as well. He immediately made for the artisan coffee maker—that had not been there last time Felix checked.

“Good morning, everyone,” Albrecht announced importantly. He took one look at the kitchen and grimaced. “Felix, dearest, I meant to mention this yesterday, this kitchen is positively primitive. Have you considered upgrading? I know a designer who could transform this space into something worthy of your status.”

Felix pinched the bridge of his nose. “Good morning, Albrecht. And no, I haven’t considered that.”

“You should,” Albrecht said, taking a sip of his coffee. “As your pet, it’s my duty to ensure you’re surrounded by beauty and sophistication.”

“Thanks, but let’s focus on breakfast for now.”

Throughout this all, Thel sat at the dining table ignoring everything but the tablet in his hand. Already dressed impeccably in a three-piece suit despite the early hour, Thel sat with perfect posture, reading something on his tablet. He finally deigned to look up briefly when Felix approached.

“Good morning,” he said in a clipped tone. “I’ve prepared a schedule for the day.”

Felix rolled his eyes, taking a detour over. The itinerary was meticulously detailed, with color-coded sections for work, errands, and even “team-building activities.”

“Thel, this is… a lot,” Felix said, scanning the document.

“Structure is essential,” Thel replied, his tone cool. “Without it, chaos ensues. Case in point.” He gestured vaguely toward the kitchen, where Sorath was now tossing breadcrumbs at Virgil, who had just sauntered in.

Virgil, still in his teddy bear pajamas, looked entirely unfazed. He grabbed a piece of toast from Felix’s plate, plopped onto a nearby chair, and began scrolling through his phone. As if the morning episode earlier hadn’t happened at all.

“Virgil,” Felix said, his patience wearing thin, “that was my breakfast.”

“You should eat faster,” Virgil replied with a grin, not looking up.

Felix took a deep breath, reminding himself that throttling one’s pets was frowned upon, no matter how tempting.

Determined to restore order, Felix called everyone to the dining table. “All right, we need to talk about today’s plans.”

Sorath leaned against the counter, nibbling on a piece of salmon. “I vote for exploring the city. Let’s see what kind of trouble we can get into.”

Felix frowned. “We’re not getting into trouble.”

“Then what’s the point?” Sorath said with a smirk.

Albrecht, already scrolling through his phone for luxury stores, chimed in. “I suggest a shopping trip. Our public appearances must reflect our status, and I, for one, refuse to be seen in anything less than perfection.”

Thel cleared his throat. “We should visit the Combat Division headquarters. As Felix’s future workplace, it’s essential for him to familiarize himself with the environment and expectations.”

Virgil finally looked up from his phone, grinning. “I’m good with whatever, as long as it’s not boring.”

The resulting argument was exactly what Felix had feared. Sorath and Virgil wanted adventure, Albrecht wanted refinement, and Thel insisted on practicality. That left Felix stuck with the role of mediator.

You c an fi nd t he la te st cha pte rs at ( th e bl mu se . c o m )

In the end, Felix threw up his hands. “Fine. We’ll figure it out as we go. Just… try not to drive me insane.”

“Too late,” Virgil said cheerfully.

AN: You know how cats sometimes appear and just watch you while you sleep? Virgil is only doing what a pet does to their owner 😌