Winter is Approaching
“It’s cold today!”
“Woof!”
As usual, I practice swinging a wooden sword in the courtyard with Da-u.
I was born in the spring, and I started learning swordsmanship right after my third birthday.
So, it’s been over half a year now that I’ve been practicing swordsmanship nearly every day.
“Am I moving better now?”
“Woof!”
Da-u seemed to think my movements were improving.
While we rested in the courtyard, some birds and a prairie dog scurried over to us.
“…Isn’t everyone cold?”
“Coo-coo,” “Tweet-tweet,” “Squeak-squeak.”
They all pressed their bodies against me more than usual.
Perhaps it’s because winter is near, and they’re feeling the chill.
“Hmm…”
The cold is tough to endure.
In my previous life, I lived in a livestock shed with terrible drafts, dressed in nothing but rags.
Of course, I didn’t have blankets, and winter was so cold it felt like I might die.
I survived because I used spirit magic to warm the room, and the goats surrounded me to share their warmth.
“…I owe it to the goats.”
“Woof?”
“Are the birds cold too? Let’s ask Mom if they can stay in my room.”
“Tweet-tweet,” “Hoo-hoo.”
Mom always reminds me, “If you bring anything into the room, you must tell me first.”
“Does the prairie dog want to come in too?”
“Squeak.”
“Alright then. Everyone, follow me.”
Since sword practice was over, I picked up the prairie dog, climbed onto Da-u’s back, and headed to find Mom.
The birds hopped along behind us.
“W-Wait, my lady!?”
“It’s okay. I’m going to ask Mother for permission.”
I reassured the flustered person we passed along the way.
When I reached my mother’s room, I flung the door open and burst in.
“Mom!”
“What’s the matter, Luria…?”
Mom froze when she saw the flock of birds following me.
“The birds are cold, so I brought them.”
“Ah, so it’s not because you’re planning to eat them.”
“Tweet, tweet!”
The birds looked startled.
“I would never eat my friends!”
“Oh, of course. I just thought—never mind.”
Sometimes, Mom says the most unexpected things.
“Mom, winter is coming. The birds are cold. So they’ll live in my room.”
“Well, I’m afraid that might be difficult.”
“Is it not allowed?”
“Tweet…” “Hoo…”
The birds seemed dejected, realizing Mom might not grant permission.
I had to convince her to prevent the birds from freezing.
“It’s sad when it’s cold. If the birds are sad, then Luria is sad too.”
“I understand. But I’m not saying no just to be mean.”
“Hmm?”
“There are some issues with letting birds stay in your room.”
“…Issues?”
Mom carefully explained.
Birds can’t hold in their droppings because of their anatomy, so the room would end up covered in poop.
Additionally, birds release a powder called feather dust and shed their feathers.
So the room would become filled with droppings, dust, and feathers.
“It might be manageable with just one bird, but having so many would make it very difficult.”
“I’ll be fine!”
“No, you wouldn’t. You could get sick. That’s why I can’t allow it.”
“Hmph…”
I considered letting them in through the window and pretending it just happened by chance.
I’m a strategist, after all.
“Fine.”
“Oh, Luria. You’re not thinking of using the excuse that they just wandered in through the window, are you?”
“N-No, of course not.”
“Good, then.”
Mom smiled knowingly. My plan was already foiled.
As I brainstormed a new strategy, Mom said,
“Well, how about we build a birdhouse outside the mansion? That way, you wouldn’t have to worry about them.”
If there’s a birdhouse nearby, I could visit them anytime I want.
The birds could sleep in the birdhouse at night and stay warm even during rain or snow.
But I’ve never heard of a royal mansion with a birdhouse.
“…Really?”
“Yes, of course. Otherwise, you might sneak them into your room, right?”
“I-I wouldn’t do that!”
“Oh, really? Then that’s fine.”
Mom patted my head gently.
“By the way, please make sure the birdhouse is warm!”
“I’ll ask the carpenters to make it nice and cozy.”
“Yay!”
The cold is truly hard to endure. I don’t want the birds to go through that.
“Oh, Mom. What about this one?”
“Squeak!”
“A prairie dog?”
“Yes. It can hold its poop, and it doesn’t release feather dust!”
Since the prairie dog isn’t a bird, putting it in the birdhouse would be cruel.
Their living environments are entirely different.
“Well, can it use a toilet properly?”
“Squeak-squeak!”
“It says it can!”
“Did it really say that…?”
Mom stroked the prairie dog, thinking for a moment.
“Luria, can you take full responsibility for it?”
“I can!”
“You’ll teach it how to use the toilet?”
“Got it!”
“Alright, then you may keep it.”
Mom gave her approval.
“That’s great!”
“Squee!”
The prairie dog seemed happy.
“But it needs a bath first. Please take care of that.”
“Yes, ma’am. My lady, if you’ll excuse me.”
The maid picked up the prairie dog I was holding and carried it away.
“Squeee~”
“It’s okay! See you soon!”
I reassured the worried prairie dog.
“Is this alright?”
“Thank you! Mom, you know a lot about animals?”
“Yes, I know a little.”
Mom really is amazing.
Next time, I’ll ask her about goats. That’s what I decided.
