Apprentice Cat

"It's fun! Just think about it, once you train it to Sequence Eight Clown," it can perform acrobatics and bring us joy, not to mention the Magician that follows, performing magic tricks—"Altair replied seriously.

After thinking for a moment, Vivian refused, saying, "No, I don't want one because I don't think it's very fun. If you want to play, you can raise one yourself."

There are no shortage of resources at home when you return.

"I'd rather have an Apprentice cat than waste my time on that. Because if it successfully takes the Potion, it can Door Opening for me."

"Yes, I've made up my mind. I need to get an ' Apprentice ' cat."

"Once it advances to the level of Trickmaster, it can also perform acrobatics for me."

As she spoke, Vivian clapped her hands in self-congratulation at her own cleverness.

Altair readily agreed, "Okay, okay, okay, you can play if you want."

After saying that, Altair kept thinking to himself, "I really want to keep a pet Clown to amuse myself."

"I remember two years later, when Klein first came to Bexland, he was struggling financially—maybe we should bring him here—"

--

May 15, 1347, Bexland, Empress Borough, Sheffield Manor.

After lunch, Altair returned to her bedroom, where she was now wearing a burgundy velvet nightgown and leaning back in a velvet dressing chair.

At this moment, her neckline was slightly open, revealing her delicate collarbone and the delicate pearl necklace around her neck. Her robe was draped diagonally, revealing a section of her fair calves, which made the wine red color even more intense and alluring.

Perhaps out of boredom, she rested her chin on one hand, her fingertips casually twirling her falling blonde hair, while her other hand rested naturally on a small table covered with lace cushions.

Meanwhile, her personal maid, Irene, knelt before the small table, took the silver grooming kit from the other maids, opened it, took out the nail file she needed, and then put it in the box to the side.

Irene gently pressed the ivory nail file against the edge of Altair's rounded nails and began to trim them slowly.

No matter how slender and long Altair's fingers were, Irene could always trim them into rounded and delicate shapes with a nail file.

After trimming his nails, Irene set the nail file aside, took the lanolin cream handed to her by a maid, and gently lifted Altair's fingertips again to apply and massage it in.

Just as Altair was completely immersed in the maids' gentle embrace, a British Shorthair blue cat suddenly darted out from behind the closed door, but its sudden appearance did not elicit any gasps from the crowd.

Because after passing through the door, it didn't slow down at all, ran straight ahead, rushed into the inside of the wall, and disappeared.

A few seconds later, Vivian, the cat's owner, slowly walked in. After glancing around the room and not finding her cat, she said to Altair with displeasure, "There's a saying: like master, like servant. Look at you, you're not setting a good example at all— Pansera has picked up all your bad habits."

Upon hearing Vivian's words, the languid Altair finally raised his head slightly and looked to the side.

She then discovered that Pansera was enjoying the maids' grooming services just like she was, looking even more languid and comfortable than Pansera herself.

After feeling everyone's gaze, Pansera's face fell, and she said with dissatisfaction, "You bad woman, what are you barking about like a dog? Pets are supposed to be like this. I have such good conditions, why can't I enjoy them?"

"Also, I now seriously suspect that you're jealous of my owner—serves you right for having such an active cat! Enjoy it."

After sensing Pansera's thoughts, Altair mentally gave it a thumbs up. Turning to Vivian, he said, "I feel alright. After all, we have the means." Vivian shook her head slightly, ceasing the discussion, and instead instructed the maids, including Irene, "Once their nails are trimmed, arrange for them to bathe and choose their attire to the highest standard—tonight's banquet cannot afford any mistakes."

"Understood, understood," Altair replied with a smile, leaning on the dressing chair.

In the evening, Altair and Vivian left Sheffield Manor by carriage and arrived at Uncle Leif's house.

After the carriage arrived at the Strauss Manor in Empress Borough, the two disembarked and went to the villa's reception area.

After walking a few steps, Altair saw his Uncle Leif, dressed in military uniform, standing at the doorway chatting with a group of middle-aged and elderly "army friends."

Altair stepped forward and quickly greeted him, "Good evening, Uncle Leif."

Before Leif could react, Altair greeted the person next to him, "Good evening, Leo—, good evening, Forrest— "

After Altair finished his greetings, everyone said in unison, "Good evening, Altair."

Altair then asked, "Uncle Leif, what are you two chatting about?"

Before Leif could reply, Forrest, standing beside him, said, "Everyone's talking about you, of course. Let me tell you, you'd better keep an eye on your Uncle Leif; he's practically showering you with compliments—'smart, clever, cute,' 'unparalleled beauty'—all those descriptions are used to describe you."

Upon hearing this, Altair smiled and said, "Earl Forrest, I think Uncle Leif's praise is quite right. After all, these are all synonyms for me, Count Altair, and—"

As soon as Altair finished speaking, everyone burst into laughter, "Good~ Good~."

After everyone finished exchanging pleasantries, they followed the host Leif, to the banquet hall. What came into view was a lavishly decorated hall, with sparkling crystal chandeliers and huge wall paintings showcasing wealth and taste.

As soon as Altair entered the banquet hall, he saw a huge long table set up to one side, covered with a gorgeous tablecloth. The edges were filled with various exquisite porcelain and silver plates, while the center was decorated with all kinds of delicacies, desserts and wines.

As for the guests, most of them, like Uncle Leif and his entourage, wore the same uniforms of the Loen Kingdom, with only their ranks differing.

However, this is not absolute; a small number of men also wear tuxedos.

As for the ladies, there were no restrictions; they wore magnificent long gowns and various headdresses, showcasing the elegance of the aristocratic class.

The officers who arrived early had already gathered in small groups to talk about various matters, big and small, in Loen or Bexland, as well as the situation in the South Continent.