Chapter 69: Arielle and The Golden Rabbit

Morning, in the Arthion manor.

Pale sunlight slipped through the curtains and spilled across the floor in thin golden lines, touching the edge of the rug, the foot of the bed, and the quiet corners of the room. Somewhere beyond the walls, the manor was already waking. Servants moved through the halls, doors opened and closed, and the faint clatter of dishes drifted up from the kitchens. It was an ordinary morning in the manor.

But Arielle didn’t feel any of it.

She sat in the middle of her room, staring at nothing, her thoughts were drifting back to Eiravelle. It had been months since she had last seen her, hugged her, or heard her voice calling her name. Months of empty days and unanswered questions, of wondering whether her sister was eating, sleeping, or smiling at all.

Maybe she’s avoiding me, Arielle thought, and her fingers were curled into the fabric of her robe on her lap. Maybe she thinks she’s the one hurting me. That would be just like her, to take all the blame and carry it by herself.

The idea made her chest ache, because it was exactly the kind of thing Eiravelle would do. She would swallow her pain, wear a calm face, and push everyone away so that no one else would have to suffer with her. And the worst part was that it was working. Arielle was suffering anyway, only now she was suffering without being able to do a single thing about it.

She didn’t know what to do. She had spent the whole night crying, burying her face in her pillow so no one in the manor would hear, and when the tears finally ran dry, the worrying had taken their place. She was worried about Eiravelle’s safety and whether she had a place in the palace where she could rest.

She was worried about whether anyone there was kind to her, or whether some of the omegas in Qazaethel’s harem were bullying her. The palace was a place of power and rank, and her sister had been thrown into it with nothing but her own strength to protect her.

What if someone is hurting her right now? What if she’s alone, and there’s no one to even listen?

Every question led to another, and none of them had an answer. Arielle pressed her palms against her eyes, which were still swollen and sore, and tried to breathe slowly.

The wedding last night had been the only time she had seen Eiravelle again. For a few precious moments, her sister had been right there in front of her, close enough to reach. Arielle had waited for a look, a smile, or even a small nod that said I’m alright, don’t worry.

But Eiravelle had refused to look in her direction.

Not once. Not even a glance.

The memory landed in her chest like a stone dropped into still water, and the ripples spread outward until her whole body felt heavy. She lowered her hands and stared at them, as though they might hold the answer to why her sister had turned away. Had it been anger? Shame? Fear? Or had Eiravelle simply known that if their eyes met, she wouldn’t be able to keep herself together?

I would have understood. If she had just looked at me, I would have understood.

She was still lost in that thought, her mind was far away in a palace she couldn’t see, when something small, cold, and slightly damp landed on her lap.

Arielle jolted.

She looked down slowly. Two round, bulging eyes looked back up at her. Green skin. A throat that pulsed in and out.

A frog.

"AH!"

The scream tore out of her before she could stop it. Arielle grabbed the creature and flung it away in a panic, then scrambled backward across the blankets until she reached the center of her king-sized bed. She pulled her knees up to her chest and clutched the blanket in front of her like a shield, as if the floor itself had suddenly become dangerous.

"What the hell?! How did a frog get into my room?!"

Her heart was pounding so hard that she could feel it in her ears. She was genuinely afraid of frogs, and not in the mild way some people disliked insects or mice. She hated how they looked, with their slimy, glistening skin, those wide unblinking eyes, and the way they moved in sudden, unpredictable jumps. Everything about them made her skin crawl, and one had just been sitting on her lap.

Of all the things to happen this morning.

"Ouch! You threw me pretty hard, Lordess Arielle."

Arielle froze.

The voice had come from the rug, and it was not the voice of any frog. She stared at the floor in disbelief, and there it was, the same green creature, sitting upright on its hind legs and rubbing the top of its head with one tiny webbed hand. It looked up at her with what could only be called a wounded expression.

"R-Ruthina?" She whispered.

The frog shimmered. A soft glow rippled across its body, the shape stretched and shifted, and a moment later the green skin was gone. In its place sat the familiar golden fur, the long ears, and the round, indignant face of the golden rabbit, still rubbing her head.

It was Ruthina, who had shapeshifted into a frog just to distract her.

"Eh?!" Arielle stared at her, still wide-eyed and still out of breath. "I thought you were a golden rabbit!"

"I am!" Ruthina pouted, though there was a hint of pride in her voice. "But I’m slowly regaining my powers and my strength, and it’s all thanks to you! We golden rabbits can shapeshift into other creatures, except the predatory beastmen. I can become a capybara, a cat, a raccoon, a cute puppy, and so on!"

She said it with such cheerful enthusiasm that Arielle couldn’t find the energy to stay angry. Her shoulders are slowly loosened, and the tight panic in her chest began to unwind. She let out a long breath, the kind she hadn’t realized she had been holding.

A capybara. A cat. A raccoon. A puppy. And she picked a frog? The thought made Arielle a little freaked out because Ruthina could enter the room as a puppy, but instead, she chose frog.

She almost laughed at how ridiculous it was, though she would never admit it out loud. Instead, she leaned over the edge of the bed and scanned the floor carefully, checking beneath the rug, near the legs of the table, and along the shadows beside the wardrobe. She wanted to be sure there were no signs of the frog, and that Ruthina wasn’t lying to her about being the only one.

The floor was clear.

"Next time," Arielle said, her voice was still a little unsteady, "please don’t scare me like that."

"Hehe, I’ll try," Ruthina said, in a tone that didn’t promise much.

Arielle climbed down from the center of the bed and sat properly on its edge, smoothing her hair back and trying to recover whatever dignity she had left. Ruthina hopped up beside her and settled in, her little feet were swinging back and forth above the floor. For a moment, neither of them spoke, and the room felt quieter, softer, and a little less lonely than before.

"You know, the food here in the Arthion manor is always so delicious!" Ruthina said suddenly, her eyes are lighting up. "Lord Arthion and Lady Elaria make sure that I eat every single meal, and they never let me skip anything. And Lady Arisia and Lordess Ariphale are so warm and kind to me! They even save me the sweet things!"

She said it with so much happiness that Arielle felt something loosen inside her. A small smile formed at the corners of her lips, the first one she had managed since the wedding. It was a fragile smile, but it was real.

My family really did take her in as one of their own.

"I’m glad you’re enjoying your stay here, Ruthina," she said gently, and she meant every word.

"Mm!" Ruthina nodded eagerly. Then, just as quickly, her expression changed. The brightness in her eyes dimmed, her ears are slowly drooped, and her smile faded into something small and sad.

"But..." She looked down at her paws. "I miss my saintess."

Arielle’s smile slipped away too, because she knew exactly who Ruthina meant, and she still wasn’t sure how she felt about it.

"Ruthina," she said carefully, choosing each word as if it might break, "I still don’t understand why you call my sister a saint. You must be mistaken, perhaps?"

Ruthina shook her head, firmly and without hesitation. "No, I can’t make a mistake. Golden rabbits are the beloved pets of saints, and we can feel them. It isn’t something we can get wrong, Lordess. It’s like... Knowing which direction is home."

Knowing which direction is home.

Arielle nodded slowly, though the words still sounded strange in her mind. Eiravelle was her sister. She was the girl who had grown up beside her, who had shared meals and secrets and quiet nights with her. She couldn’t picture her as someone beloved by the Gods themselves, someone whom the heavens would call a darling.

"It’s hard to believe," she murmured. "My sister, of all people, will be a saint." ℴ

Ruthina reached for a pillow and hugged it tightly against her chest, as though she needed something to hold while she explained. "You see, Lordess. Saints, or the darlings of heaven, are the beloved of the three supreme Gods. They’re completely different creatures from everyone else. And because of that, they’re prone to becoming everyone’s prey."

She paused, and her voice dropped. "Including me."

Arielle’s brows drew together at that last part, and something cold settled in her stomach. She wanted to ask what Ruthina meant, but she held her tongue and let her continue. She could tell the words were not easy for her to say.

"We’re born differently, all of us," Ruthina went on, her tone were steadier now. "The hierarchy begins with the three supreme Gods. After them come the saints. Third are the golden rabbits, and fourth are the Gods. Fifth are the immortals, the beastmen, and the demons. And last, at the very bottom, are the mortals."

Mortals at the very bottom.

Arielle listened without interrupting. She sat quietly, taking in every word and trying to fit this strange new order of the world into the one she had always known. If her sister truly was a saint, then Eiravelle stood far above all of them, and she was in a palace full of people who might want to take advantage of that.

The thought made her stomach tighten again.

But as Ruthina kept talking, something else caught her attention. Her eyes began to drift, almost against her will, toward the rabbit’s long soft furred ears. They twitched now and then, a little tremble here, a little flick there, as though they had a mind of their own. Every time Ruthina’s voice rose with feeling, they perked up, and every time it lowered, they drooped.

They look so soft. The thought arrived without permission, and before she could stop herself, her hand had already moved. Her fingers brushed the tip of one ear, and then, very gently, she began to pet it.

It was just as soft as she had imagined. The fur was warm and silky, and beneath it she could feel a faint, fluttering pulse. Ruthina blushed and let out a tiny whimper. "L-Lordess... What are you doing?"

Arielle snatched her hand away as if she had touched a flame, and she turned her face to the side, staring hard at the wall. What am I doing?! I just touched her ear without asking! What kind of person does that?!

She cleared her throat loudly, too loudly, and had no idea that her face had turned a bright, furious red from her cheeks to the tips of her ears. "Forgive me," she said stiffly. "I didn’t mean to touch your ear. I wasn’t thinking." Then she waited for Ruthina to be offended, or at least embarrassed.

Instead, there was a soft rustle beside her, and then small paws wrapped around her hand. Arielle looked down in surprise and saw Ruthina smiling brightly, her eyes are sparkling. The rabbit pulled her hand back up and pressed it firmly against her ear.

"No, it’s okay! Hehe, it actually feels good!" Ruthina said, nearly bouncing in her seat. "No one has ever petted me like this before. That’s supposed to be my saintess’s job, you know. But since she doesn’t want to believe she’s my saintess, no one gets to pet me."

The cheerfulness in her voice didn’t quite cover what lay underneath it.

Arielle’s heart sank, and a frown crossed her face. No one. In all this time, not one person?

She looked at the creature beside her, who had been scared and hurt and alone, and who still woke up each morning ready to play tricks and talk about food. And Arielle realized how heavy the little rabbit’s story must be. Slowly, gently, she pulled Ruthina into her arms.

"As long as you’re here with me and my family," she said softly, "we will keep you safe, okay? I wonder how you were hurt by others, and yet you’re still able to stay so kind." For a moment, there was only silence. Then Ruthina’s shoulders began to tremble. A small sob escaped her, and then another, and then she buried her face in Arielle’s chest and clung to her with both paws, as if she were afraid that if she let go, the warmth would disappear.

She was tired, Arielle realized, and her throat tightened painfully. She was so tired this whole time, and she was just trying to be strong. She never let anyone see. Sigh... I suddenly remember Eiravelle, she had this exact traits too.

She thought of how many mornings Ruthina must have smiled through, how many times she had pretended to be fine, and how often she had made jokes and played tricks so that no one would ask if she was alright. It reminded her of someone else, someone she hadn’t been able to reach.

Arielle held her closer and stroked her back in slow, steady circles.

"Shhh, it’s okay," she whispered. "It’s okay. You’re not going to be alone again. Even if you think your saintess isn’t here yet, I’ll be the one to guard you, take care of you, and keep you safe for now." She hadn’t planned the words. They simply came from somewhere deep and certain, and as soon as she said them, she knew she would keep them, no matter what.

Ruthina sniffled against her and finally nodded. "Thank you, Lordess," she whispered, her voice was thick and shaking. "Thank you for your kindness. Thank you."

"You don’t have to thank me," Arielle murmured, resting her chin lightly on the top of Ruthina’s head.

The room was quiet again. Sunlight still lay across the floor in its golden lines, the manor still hummed with morning noise, and somewhere outside a bird began to sing. Arielle sat there with the small, trembling rabbit in her arms and felt, for the first time since the wedding, that she was doing something that mattered.

All omegas deserve to be respected and cherished, she thought, and the conviction burned steady and quiet inside her. None of them should ever be treated as breeding vessels, slaves, or lesser creatures. Not Ruthina. Not anyone.

And somewhere far away, in a palace she couldn’t see, Eiravelle was an omega too. Arielle closed her eyes and held Ruthina a little tighter, as if the warmth in her arms could somehow reach across the distance.

"Everything’s going to be okay," she whispered.

I’ll make sure of it.