Chapter 82 Pitiful

Chapter 82 Helpless

Imuir stared blankly at Bai Yu, sobs caught in his throat. His teary, blurred eyes widened, the beautiful lake-blue irises expanding as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

The doctor? How could the doctor be here?

Is this a dream?

The hands holding him were steady and strong, easily scooping him up from the wet ground before cradling him against a warm chest. The heat seeped through the fabric, chasing away the cold. The doctor’s slender fingers soothingly stroked his tense back to calm him.

Imuir’s mind was shrouded in a dazed fog. Instinctively, he reached out with his little paws to clutch Bai Yu’s fingers.

Then, his limp tail coiled, naturally looping around the doctor’s wrist.

Still dazed, Imuir rubbed his cheek against the doctor’s palm.

Even a dream would be okay.

Bai Yu sighed softly.

The kitten was crying so hard he hiccuped, tear tracks dampening the corners of his eyes. His tail and ears drooped weakly, and his body trembled slightly from pain, looking completely worn out. Yet despite this, his paws clung tightly to Bai Yu, as if afraid he might run away.

Bai Yu held him gently, rubbing the kitten’s head as he coaxed, “Don’t cry anymore, okay?”

Truthfully, Bai Yu wasn’t good at comforting others—he hadn’t cried since middle school. But the tiny furball in his hands was so small, his fluffy tail coiled tightly around Bai Yu’s wrist as if he had been wronged beyond measure.

Of course he’d feel wronged—crawling alone into a dank, freezing basement while sick, with no food or warmth.

But the more Bai Yu tried to soothe him, the more his tail tightened around Bai Yu’s wrist. Imuir pressed himself stubbornly against Bai Yu’s chest, his short paws insistently wrapping around him like a dragon guarding its treasure.

No... a mini dragon.

And Bai Yu was the treasure—one that was several times his size, yet he refused to let go.

The doctor shook his head slightly, letting out a soft chuckle. He indulged Imuir as the kitten dampened his shirt, before lightly tapping his head and coaxing again, “Imuir, stop crying, okay?”

...

What?

Imuir’s hazy mind snapped to attention for a moment. He blinked up at the doctor in confusion, even letting out a tiny hiccup.

What had the doctor just called him?

...Imuir?

Imuir?!

Bai Yu had only ever called him “furball” or “kitten.” But Imuir was the name of the Grand Duke of Illyria—how could Bai Yu know? Why would he call a kitten Imuir?

This identity was the duke’s most deeply hidden secret, a fatal weakness that could easily be exploited.

His aching head couldn’t process this calmly. In an instant, it was as if a carefully buried landmine had been detonated—shock, unease, and fear surged through him in waves.

Imuir’s fur bristled all over. Unconsciously, he shifted his weight backward, putting distance between himself and Bai Yu. He flinched and struggled wildly, flailing like he was drowning. Bai Yu nearly lost his grip, and with a sharp cry, the kitten slid right off his arm—

Only one thought remained in Imuir’s chaotic mind: *No—no one can find out! They’ll look down on me! They’ll hate me! I’ll die!*

Slavery in Illyria may have been all but eradicated in name, but slaves sent as tribute from foreign lands remained the lowest of the low—seen as filthy and impure, subject to abuse or even execution at will. This identity was a festering, unhealed wound of silent agony, driving him to agony with the slightest touch.

Imuir couldn’t risk it.

...The doctor knew he was the Grand Duke, yet the doctor despised the Grand Duke most of all.

The doctor had always wanted Grand Duke Imuir dead.

The moment this thought surfaced, Imuir’s lake-blue eyes welled up again, his heart aching with hurt.

He had only been in the doctor’s arms for two minutes—hadn’t even left his scent—before his identity was exposed.

Why couldn’t he have stayed just a little longer?

The fall seemed to last forever. Terrified and weightless, the kitten squeezed his eyes shut, but the expected crash never came—Bai Yu reached out and gently scooped him up.

Back in the doctor’s arms.

Before fear could overwhelm him, the doctor’s sharp, herbal scent enveloped him, soothing his frayed nerves.

Bai Yu sighed. “Imuir, stop squirming. I can hardly keep hold of you. Such strength in those tiny legs.”

Still frightened, the kitten tried to hide, but Bai Yu cradled him protectively, wrapping him in his coat. Shivering under the coat, he buried his head, ignoring Bai Yu’s calls—desperate to convey one message:

—No, I’m not Imuir. You’re mistaken.

The coat’s warmth soothed his panic, at least for now. Bai Yu rubbed his temples in exasperation. “Ready to behave now?”

Curled inside the coat, Imuir made himself even smaller. It took him a while to gather his courage before peeking out cautiously, mimicking other kittens by nuzzling the doctor sweetly—putting on his best innocent act. “Meow—”

—I’m really not Imuir.

Bai Yu sighed once more.

He had lost count of how many times he’d sighed today. He tapped the kitten’s head, feigning annoyance, his voice laced with amusement, “Imuir, do you really think I’m an idiot?”

“...?”

What?

The silvery furball stared blankly, trying to fool Bai Yu—as he often did to slip past scrutiny at home.

Bai Yu chuckled. “Want me to spell it out for you?”

He began listing the clues one by one:

“The Grand Duke fell into the river—I found you by the shore. The Grand Duke was stabbed in the abdomen—you had the same wound.”

“The day you disappeared, a perfect, exorbitantly valuable ruby appeared in my house.”

“Later, at the Grand Duke’s estate, the Duke acted strangely, humoring my every whim.”

“Then, when the Duke ‘visited his mother’s residence,’ you showed up at my place.”

“And those two times I lost my glasses—I saw you, didn’t I?”

“Once in the wine cellar—you appeared right after I spotted a cat. Then in the study—the moment I heard a meow, I found my glasses. A coincidence? Come on, Imuir.”

“What do you think?”

The doctor's calm tone made the duke's tail puff up. Imuir retreated into the doctor's coat, pressing his paws over his ears.

*—Not listening, don't know.*

Banking on his cute kitten appearance, he completely disregarded the dignity of a grand duke.

Bai Yu let out an exasperated laugh. He wasn’t about to indulge this—he extracted Imuir, pinning his paws down to force him to listen. "Every little clue, so many mistakes—did you really think I wouldn’t figure it out?"

Bai Yu had always been reserved, seeing things clearly but keeping quiet. Even if he had suspicions, he wouldn’t expose them without absolute certainty. Back in the small building, when Bai Yu heard the kitten’s meow and then found glasses with the same prescription, his suspicion jumped from 60% to 100%. Yet Imuir truly believed he was hiding well—plying him with wine, shipping him out of town. Bai Yu had repeatedly requested meetings, trying to confront Imuir openly, but he kept avoiding him, playing Bai Yu for a fool.

Imuir: "..."

Though the doctor was still holding him steadily, Imuir inexplicably felt that the look behind Bai Yu’s monocle was icy and sharp—dangerous, as if one wrong word would bring hell down.

Imuir shrank his neck in fear, making his already short kitten neck disappear entirely. Then, sheepishly, he looked up, guilty and ingratiating: *“N-no, not at all.”*

Strangely, though, under the doctor’s relentless questioning, his anxious heart finally settled.

The doctor had him figured out—he’d been exposed long ago. The doctor had countless opportunities, yet he hadn’t killed him.

…Perhaps the doctor wasn’t as loyal to The Black Robe Society, didn’t hate Imuir's guts, didn’t truly want the grand duke dead. Maybe the situation wasn’t as dire as he’d thought?

The kitten gingerly extended a paw, latching onto the doctor’s finger again.

Once the initial scare wore off, he looked up at Bai Yu’s expression and finally realized—there wasn’t an ounce of disgust or impatience in the doctor’s eyes.

The doctor knew he was Imuir, but the doctor didn’t hate him.

So the kitten’s tail cautiously curled around him too, and Imuir burrowed back into the doctor’s embrace.

Like a creature back in its element, he buried himself contentedly.

The chill lifted, the pain dulled, and the doctor held him in silent comfort.

Years of pent-up bitterness were shut out, replaced by a long-lost sense of safety. Imuir felt as if he’d returned to the doctor’s home, lazing on a sun-drenched windowsill. *"Love,"* he breathed without thinking.

He didn’t know how much time had passed—long enough for Imuir to settle in the embrace, long enough for sleepiness to wash over him—before Bai Yu finally lifted him to eye level, with a knowing smirk. "Feeling better now?"

"..."

Imuir instinctively shrank back. "Meow..."

Bai Yu: "Good. Now let’s settle the score. All those times I wanted to see you—why did you refuse?"

He was referring to the small building.

Back then, he’d pieced most of it together, but suspicions like "the grand duke is a kitten" couldn’t be shared with the Interrogator or the butler. He could only request a private audience with the duke himself. If Imuir had just met him once, none of the subsequent mess would’ve happened.

Imuir: "Meow..."

Guilt crept in again.

But then Bai Yu, still holding him, suddenly raised a hand and gave the kitten’s bottom a firm but not harsh smack.

A jolt of strange sensation shot from his tailbone—his tail trembled violently, then stiffened abruptly. The shock traveled up his spine, leaving half his body weak. Imuir’s eyes widened in disbelief as he stared at the doctor.

Everyone knows he's the Duke now! And yet he still gets attacked!

What about the grand duke's dignity?!

His fur bristled all over, and he instinctively turned his head, snapping his teeth to bite, only to be gently pushed back by Bai Yu pressing against his head: "If anything like this happens in the future, you must discuss it with me. Don't jump to conclusions, understand?"

Bai Yu had no idea what Imuir was imagining, convinced that the doctor would harm him once his identity was revealed.

Imuir kicked with his short legs, eager to charge forward again to defend the Duke’s honor, but Bai Yu held him close: "Alright, little cat, are you hungry? Do you want something to eat?"

The underground was damp and chilly, and the kitten was still sick. Without food, he’d likely feel miserable.

Imuir tilted his head slightly: "Mrrow?"

Food?

Bai Yu: "We’ll have to stay here for a couple of days. What would you like to eat? Mashed beef?"

Right now, one of them was a kitten whose identity couldn’t be exposed, and the other was a ‘dead’ traitor, both under the Black Robe Society’s pursuit. If caught, the outcome would be a brutal end. Bai Yu couldn’t return home, couldn’t stay at an inn, and even the bridge underpasses were long occupied by the homeless. In Illyria, it seemed there was almost no place left for them.

But the Duke’s mansion, this off-limits area no one dared approach, turned out to be a perfect hiding spot.

Bai Yu had wondered before—if it was an off-limits area, why were there no guards, allowing him to enter freely? Now it made sense. The kitten, afraid of being discovered, had deliberately removed the guards and reinforced the "forbidden" reputation to keep people away. Ironically, it now proved convenient for them.

Bai Yu glanced around: "This underground space seems quite spacious. With the guard's credentials, I can go out to do some quick shopping, make things more comfortable, and bring back some cushions and food."

Imuir: "Mew?"

Bai Yu: "Wait here just a little while. I’ll be right back."

Imuir’s body tensed instantly.

His pupils dilated, staring at the doctor almost helplessly.

...Wait a while? But how long is a while?

The little cat was desperately clingy now, unwilling to part with the doctor for even a moment.

Yet Imuir also knew that a sick kitten was a burden. Going with the doctor would only slow him down, so he folded his paws dejectedly.

Bai Yu turned to look at him.

Imuir lay weakly on the only table in the underground, his large tail sweeping back and forth across the surface, his eyelids drooping, his eyes dull.

—The little cat clearly didn't realize just how pitiful he looked right now.

The doctor’s heart softened again.

With Imuir, Bai Yu always softened easily.

He sighed: "Alright, you can come with me. But I have to climb up—how should I carry you?"

The basement stairs were a vertical rope ladder with wooden rungs, years of dampness covering them in slippery moss. Even someone as agile as the doctor had to grip both sides with both hands to ascend or descend.

But that left no hands free to hold the kitten.

Bai Yu looked down at his uniform and sighed: "This will have to do."

Imuir tilted his head suspiciously: "Mew?"

The next second, the doctor scooped him up.

The Duke’s mansion uniform had a fitted-waist design. Bai Yu tightened the belt slightly and fastened his coat, creating a makeshift pouch between the belt and the collar. Then he lifted Imuir and nestled him inside.

Imuir: "!!!"

What in the world?! he thought.