I Stole the Villain's Cat, and Now He Thinks I'm His Wife

He let go of my hand.

The loss of his warmth felt like a physical blow. The freezing air of the courtyard rushed in to fill the space between us, biting at my skin through the beautiful silk of my stolen-looking dress.

I kept my eyes on the white gravel. I could not look at him. I could not bear to see the devastation and anger I knew must be in those intense amber eyes.

Skin his sacred cat. Uncle Kenji made it sound as though I were a butcher. I had only meant to take a small cutting. A tiny, unseen snip of fur. Yet the damage was done. The warlord who had regarded me as something precious now knew the truth. I was a rat. A liar. One who made use of others.

"Well?" Uncle Kenji spat, sensing the change in the air and mistaking it for victory. He scrambled to his feet, brushing off his robes. "Do you see now, Lord Akira? Hand her over to the Bureau. The punishment for assaulting a High Lord’s familiar is—"

"Silence."

Akira did not shout. He did not raise his voice. Yet the single word cut through the courtyard with quiet force.

Kenji’s mouth snapped shut.

Slowly, I lifted my head.

Akira was not looking at my uncle. He was looking at Yuki. The white nekomata sat upon the frozen gravel, calmly licking its paw, entirely unconcerned by the chaos surrounding it.

"You did not mention she came with scissors," Akira said quietly to the cat, his tone low and restrained.

Yuki paused, blinked its bright eyes, let out a small, unapologetic sound, and returned to cleaning its ear.

Akira closed his eyes. A faint tension moved along his jaw.

When he opened them again and looked down at me, my breath caught. There was no fury. No violent wrath.

There was hurt. Quiet and deep. A trace of disappointment that broke through his composure. It struck far harder than anger would have.

He had believed he was no longer alone.

"Akira," I said, my voice unsteady. "I... I am sorry. Rin, my sister... she is dying. I did not wish to harm him. I only needed—"

"You wished to save your family," Akira said softly.

He lifted his gaze past me, fixing it on Uncle Kenji. The moment of vulnerability vanished, replaced by cold authority.

"You serve within the Bureau of Divination," Akira said, his voice edged with quiet severity. "You possess the means to obtain cleansing medicine. Yet you allow a child of your own blood to waste away, and condemn the one who risked everything to save her?"

Kenji faltered, stepping back. "M-My Lord, the cost—"

"Captain."

The captain of Akira’s guard appeared at once. "My Lord."

"Remove him," Akira said. "If he comes within a hundred paces of my wife again, I will burn his spirit core to ash."

"Yes, My Lord."

Two guards seized Kenji by the arms, lifting him from the ground.

"Wait! Lord Akira, you cannot do this!" Kenji cried as he was dragged away. "She is a fraud. She is a commoner."

Akira did not respond. He turned back to me. For a long moment, he studied my tear-streaked face.

Then he reached out and took my hand once more.

I gasped, my eyes widening. His grip was firm, steady. The cold in my body eased at once.

He had not cast me aside.

Akira turned to face the gathered court. His posture straightened, his presence commanding.

"Hear me," Akira said, his voice carrying across the courtyard. "This woman crossed my wards. She gained the trust of my sacred familiar. She defied me to protect her family. Such loyalty is not easily understood within this court."

His fingers tightened around mine.

"She is Kurogane Kitsune. She bears the Consort Mark. She is my wife. Any who question her question me."

Silence fell. No one dared speak.

Then slow, deliberate applause echoed from the top of the stairs.

Clap. Clap. Clap.

"Well spoken, nephew," a voice said smoothly. "A most touching display."

The great doors of the Imperial Hall stood open. At their threshold, guarded by rows of armored soldiers, stood the most powerful men in the empire.

At the center was Emperor Shirakawa. His robes shimmered in gold and white. His expression was calm, but his eyes were sharp and watchful. His smile did not reach them.

At his right stood the Crown Prince, Ryu. Tall, composed, dressed in crimson robes adorned with gold. His expression twisted with open disdain as his gaze passed over Akira and then settled on me.

At the Emperor’s left stood the Second Prince, Jin. Clad in pale green, he leaned lightly against a pillar, half his face hidden behind a folding fan. His eyes curved with amusement.

"Come forward, Akira," the Emperor said. "Bring this woman before us. Let us see the bride who has tamed the North."

Akira’s jaw tightened. The tension in him was unmistakable.

"Walk with me," he said quietly. "Do not bow. You stand as one of the North."

I nodded, though my thoughts felt distant. My legs moved without strength as we climbed the long white steps. Yuki followed at our side, its tails swaying.

As we reached the top, Crown Prince Ryu stepped forward, blocking our path.

"A floor-scrubber," Ryu said, his voice cold with contempt. "Is this the best the Demon Prince could claim? A desperate rat from the lower quarters? It seems tainted blood draws such company."

Akira stopped. The air around us grew tense. "Mind your words, Ryu."

"Or what?" Ryu replied, stepping closer. "Will you unleash your power here? In the Emperor’s hall? For the sake of a commoner?"

"Brother," Jin said lightly, closing his fan. He stepped between them, smiling faintly. "There is no need for such harshness. Lady Kitsune clearly possesses... notable talents. It is no small feat to enter our cousin’s guarded chambers."

He glanced at me, his smile sharp.

Their words were not aimed at me alone. They struck at Akira. They sought to diminish him, to turn his strength into mockery.

And he endured it.

He stood before them, shielding me, bearing their contempt without retaliation.

The weight of it pressed heavily upon me.

My vision blurred. The bright colors of the hall smeared together. The murmur of voices grew distant.

This is my doing. All of it.

"Wife?"

Akira’s voice seemed far away.

Heat flared suddenly at my chest. The Consort Mark burned as though alive, responding to the turmoil within me.

"Kitsune."

I tried to speak. To apologize. But no words came.

The world tilted. Light and shadow shifted.

The last thing I felt was the firm grip of Akira’s arms catching me as everything faded into darkness.