Chapter 4: Ashes and Farewells

I just sighed. “You monsters have it rough. Why be a kitchen boss in the mansion instead of living free outside?”

If I had his looks and power, I’d be running wild in the hills, not sweating over a hot stove.

Mr. Forrest’s smile froze. “Who told you I’m a kitchen boss?”

He looked genuinely puzzled, like the idea had never occurred to him.

“But everyone says, in this mansion, except for the king, all the other men are kitchen staff.”

It was common knowledge—at least, among the cats. I figured it must be true.

“The chef isn’t a kitchen staff.”

He sounded almost offended. I wondered what the real story was.

“Which clueless little monster wandered into the mansion? Don’t you know this place is crawling with preachers?”

He gave me a look, like he was trying to figure out how I’d made it this far.

Mr. Forrest picked me up, giving me a once-over.

I squirmed, trying to keep my dignity. But it’s hard when you’re being held like a sack of potatoes.

Embarrassed, I covered my private parts with my furry tail. So humiliating!

A lady’s gotta have some modesty, even if she’s a cat.

“I already said I’m an immortal!” I kicked my legs and protested loudly.

My voice came out a little shrill, but I meant every word.

“Then show me some immortal magic?”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it.

“I’ll… I’ll owe you one. If you want to see magic, it’ll cost 100 small yellow perch, and only if you cook them yourself!” I said, guilty but righteous.

I puffed out my chest, trying to look intimidating. All I got was a laugh.

“No wonder you’re such a fat cat.”

He ruffled my ears, and I couldn’t help but purr. Maybe being a fat cat wasn’t so bad.

Though this fox demon had a sharp tongue, his heart was kind.

He actually made me a cat bed.

It was soft, warm, and smelled faintly of cedar. I curled up instantly, feeling safer than I had in ages.

Mr. Forrest said he used to have a little cat just like me—greedy and fat.

He told the story with a fondness that made my heart ache. I wondered what happened to that cat.

But it ran away at some point.

His eyes clouded over, just for a second. I wanted to comfort him, but didn’t know how.

There are actually cats who don’t know how lucky they are.

I made a mental note not to be one of them. If I ever ran away, I’d take him with me.

At night, as I dozed off, I heard the sound of drums and footsteps outside.

The mansion was restless, like a storm brewing. I pressed deeper into my bed, hoping it would all blow over.

Word was, the king had lost something and was searching the whole mansion.

I was so frightened—could it be me the king lost?

I peeked out from under the covers, ears twitching. If he was looking for me, he’d have a hard time recognizing me now.

But then I thought, now I’m just a little cat. Even if the king or those nosy preachers who imprisoned me came, they might not recognize me as the immortal imprisoned by the king.

I relaxed a little. Maybe being a cat had its perks after all.

Whenever I remembered how the king said, all high and mighty, “You’ll never escape in this life,” and then I immediately escaped—

I couldn’t help but laugh in my cat bed.

There’s nothing quite like proving a king wrong. It’s the little victories that count.

“Don’t go crazy at night. I have to get up to cook tomorrow,” Mr. Forrest’s voice echoed in my ear.

I tucked my head under my tail and obediently went to sleep.

Before drifting off, I marveled again—how was this fox demon so powerful? He could even transmit his voice directly into my ear. I couldn’t even do magic like that.

I wondered if he had some secret trick, or if he was just that good. Either way, it was comforting.

Oh no, could it be I’m really not an immortal?

The thought gnawed at me. If I wasn’t an immortal, what was I?

But when I entered this body, everyone called me immortal.

The king even posted one charm after another outside my room, and what he said most often was, “Kitty, I am the king. There is nothing in this world I cannot get. Even if you’re an immortal, you should be with me, the true lion.”

He had a way with words, I’ll give him that. But all his charms and declarations never worked on me. Only the fish did.

I’d already realized those charms were useless on me, but I couldn’t resist the king sending me food every day.

The way to my heart was through my stomach, and he knew it.

Other meals didn’t matter, but the fish made by Mr. Forrest was my favorite.

Missing even one meal made me uncomfortable all over.

If not for wanting to eat fish every day, I would have run away long ago.

I’d have made a break for it, but the thought of leaving behind that kitchen kept me rooted.

Mr. Forrest is so good at making fish—maybe because of the little cat he used to raise?

I wondered if he ever thought of that cat when he cooked for me. Maybe he did. Maybe that’s why the food tasted like home.

Hehe, I never expected Mr. Forrest to be such a good person.

I purred a little louder, hoping he could hear how much I appreciated him.

Just before dawn, Mr. Forrest went out.

I was sleeping soundly. Hearing him leave, I couldn’t help but sigh—it’s not easy being a monster.

If I could return to the heavens, I’d definitely bring Mr. Forrest with me, so he could make fish just for me.

I pictured us in some celestial kitchen, surrounded by clouds and catnip, him frying up fish for eternity. Not a bad afterlife.

As for the immortal that Mr. Forrest likes?

That immortal is gone. He shouldn’t be obsessed anymore, right?

I hoped he’d moved on, but a part of me worried he hadn’t. Old loves die hard.

I’ve heard that monsters’ love and hate are always short and sudden. Mr. Forrest is so beautiful, surely many like him.

I tried to convince myself it didn’t matter. But the thought still stung.