Clint frowned and snapped without thinking, "What do you think?! I was escaping, obviously!"
But all the Duke heard was: "Squeek! Squeek squeek!"
He tilted his head slightly, unimpressed, and spoke again, this time slower, almost curious. "You look like a lowly creature. You can't even speak. But for something so weak, you handled my blood pretty well."
Clint's eyes narrowed. "Huh?! What are you even talking about now? Are you crazy or something? Talking to a bunny that can't talk?!"
"Squeek squeek! Squeeeeek squeek squeek!"
The Duke raised one eyebrow slightly, then closed his eyes and let out a long sigh, rolling onto his back and staring blankly at the ceiling as if wondering why he was having a one-sided conversation with a noisy rabbit.
Clint huffed, still sitting beside him. "Tch. I swear, when I change back, I'm kicking that pretty face of yours," he muttered, tail flicking once in frustration.
Clint sat quietly on the bed, ears slightly drooped, tail flicking every now and then, eyes watching the ceiling like it would give him answers.
He was deep in thought, thinking of how to return in his world or in his human form. 'I'll wait till night, But right now It's best not to anger this guy.'
Then, the Duke moved.
Without saying a word, he sat up, reached over, and picked Clint up again—carefully, Clint didn't resist. He didn't like it, but there was no point struggling either.
The Duke placed him on his shoulder, and Clint shifted his stance to keep balance, gripping the coat with his small paws.
"…Guess I'm going with you now," Clint muttered in his head, ears twitching as the man walked to the door.
As they reached the entrance, the door creaked slightly from the other side, and a maid, carrying a tray with a folded cloth and a small cup, was just about to knock. She froze when she saw them eyes wide for a second then stepped back quickly and bowed her head deeply.
"My apologies, Your grace," she said politely, voice steady but quiet. "I didn't know you were awake."
The Duke didn't respond right away.
The maid spoke again, carefully choosing her words.
"Merchant Win of the Southern Trade Guild has arrived. He's waiting in the garden hall."
Clint blinked slowly, his ears tilting forward. "Merchant Win… Southern Guild…"
The Duke continued walking past her without a word, The maid lowered her head again and stepped aside as the they passed.
The hallway opened into a wide garden hall, filled with tall plants and trimmed hedges, the sunlight shining softly through a glass ceiling above. There was a round stone table in the middle with two seats, and a man was already sitting there, dressed in expensive robes, his hair neatly tied back, with rings glittering on his fingers.
The man stood up when he saw them arrive and gave a wide smile, bowing slightly as he greeted, "Duke. It is always an honor to be summoned by your estate."
The Duke gave no reply, only walked forward and sat down across from him without saying a word.
Merchant Win remain standing, the polite smile still on his lips.
"I must admit," he said with a soft chuckle, "I was surprised to receive your summons. I didn't know if I had forgotten an agreement or if something new has come up."
Just then, a maid stepped into the garden, her eyes lowered as she carried a wooden tray carefully in both hands.
She walked to the Duke's side, placed the golden tray on the table, and stepped back quickly without a word.
The Duke reached and pulling out a rolled scroll.
Clint tilted his head slightly, watching.
The Duke unrolled the scroll slowly, laid it on the table. "Let's begin."
Merchant Win's smile twitched.
The Duke began reading from the scroll, voice steady and without emotion.
"Two weeks ago, your men smuggled cursed artifacts from the northern ruins. Three days later, you paid five thousand gold to silence a guard in the port city."
Merchant's eyes stopped blinking.
His fingers froze.
"Last month, you illegally sold restricted herbs banned by the royal council. Two days ago, you sent men to blackmail a low-ranking noble to sign over his land near the border."
Merchant Win hands clasped in front of him as he tried to keep a calm face, though the tension in his jaw was easy to see. He had bowed politely earlier, but now, standing straight with a stiff back, he tried to reason with the Duke like a man who still believed he had a chance.
"Duke," he began, "these accusations… I'm sure there's some mistake. I trade across borders, I deal with people from many regions, some enemies to the crown—it's easy to twist things. You know how rumors work."
The Duke said nothing, his face cold, unreadable.
Then the Duke picked one, unrolling it with one hand.
"Last winter. Orphanage in Westriver was used as cover to store contraband. Shipment marked under false charity funds. Five children disappeared. Their names are listed here."
Win's breath hitched.
The Duke placed the scroll flat on the table and without looking up, reached for another one.
"Shipment of mana stones illegally extracted from cursed mines. Paid off the border patrols with forged contracts. Happened three months ago. Signed by your second son."
Merchant Win's lips parted, eyes wide, but no words came.
Clint narrowed his eyes slightly. "He's trapped," he thought, watching the man's composure slowly crack.
Then the Duke finally looked up—just once.
His hand reached for another scroll, fingers brushing over the sealed parchment like it was nothing more than a page in a book.
But before he could lift it, Merchant Win's eyes widened in panic.
He dropped to his knees.
The sound of his expensive robe brushing the stone echoed loud in the silence.
"Please—Duke!" he cried out, lowering his head so fast his forehead almost hit the floor.
"I… I was desperate! I have debts—family—land I must protect! Those weren't my orders, they were my sons, my men—I tried to stop them but they didn't listen—please, I swear to you, I'll fix it! I'll return everything! I'll disappear from the capital—I'll never step foot in your territory again!"