The Harvest Mouse Exits the Fairytale Together with Cinderella

Of course, before even picking out her own clothes, Sera had been choosing mine first?
"Well, I was just choosing," Sera said with a small groan.

"I kept hesitating because I thought everything would suit you, so I took a break for a moment. If I’d known this would happen, I should’ve hurried."
Elodie, mimicking Sera's earlier expression, looked through the clothes laid out for her.
Then, she noticed a common theme.

"They have fur."
The nightgown wasn’t made of regular fabric—it was plush and soft, like fur.
The coat had lamb’s wool trimming along the collar and sleeves.

Even the evening dress had just the right amount of feather accents.
"You've lived your whole life believing you were a harvest mouse. Then, one day, you suddenly lost all your fur. I thought… maybe this would help you adjust."
Sera smiled, looking a little embarrassed.

"I wondered if it might bring you some comfort over what you lost… but maybe it doesn’t mean much after all?"
"…No."
How could it not mean something?

She had just given Elodie another unforgettable moment.
"I like it."
Sera had always been like this.

Even though Elodie was content simply giving her love, Sera never hesitated to return it just as generously.
Every time, it overwhelmed her—made her wish she could stay in that moment forever.
"Hmm, maybe this one for now?"

Sera picked out a hazelnut-colored checkered dress to layer over a blouse.
She also grabbed a matching beret and lace socks.
"You know, from the moment Elodie turned back into a human, I’ve been wanting to do this."
She sat Elodie down and started dressing her, visibly excited as if she were fulfilling a long-held wish.

Her flushed cheeks and bright expression made it clear she was genuinely happy.
Elodie glanced down at the clothes she was now wearing.
Clothes for a five-year-old.

After spending ten years in a palace where banquets were a daily occurrence, even without much interest in fashion, she had at least developed a general sense of it.
Cute and lovely designs.
Elodie realized something.

She would probably love this kind of thing for the rest of her life.
***
Elodie stepped into the hallway, gripping the wall for support.

She took one wobbly step after another, slowly toddling forward.
Squirrel kept flailing her arms, ready to catch her every time she swayed.
"Sh-should I bring a walker for you?"

"I'm not that bad!"
For starters, no five-year-old needed a walker.
Elodie had been feeling quite proud of herself for managing to walk at all—until she suddenly yelled.

"I can walk just fine if I hold onto the wall!"
"But if you fall—"
Then she’d fall, obviously.

"That’s how you learn."
"You’re… very strong, young mistress."
Squirrel’s expression turned strangely emotional, as if she were deeply moved.

Her face practically screamed what a remarkable child! over something as trivial as walking.
Elodie felt her entire face burn red.
It was so embarrassing she wanted to scream, Go away!

But then, from deep inside, a quiet voice whispered:
"Say that again."
For a harvest mouse beastfolk, who was always trampled on and seen as mere prey, being called strong was the highest praise imaginable.

For the record, the second-best compliment would be cool.
Clearing her throat, Elodie stiffened her legs with determination.
"Watch closely."

Right as she was bracing herself to earn a cool compliment—
She saw them.
Towering figures approaching from a distance.

A man nearly two meters tall, with neatly combed silver hair, his military background evident in the way he carried himself.
Duke Eisenhartz Valkyrisen strode forward, gripping a cane adorned with the family crest, while speaking with his aide.
Wow, the Duke is huge, but…

The aide following behind him was even taller by a full handspan.
They were walking straight toward her, their overwhelming presence like massive trees casting shadows over her.
"What are you still doing here?"

"W-Walking practice…"
"I heard you were going out an hour ago."
Eisen glanced between Elodie and the door she had emerged from.

"From the looks of it, you’ve taken about… twenty steps?"
"……"
Are you kidding me? I’ve taken at least thirty-five…

Elodie pouted slightly, internally protesting.
Eisen, catching the look on her face, let out a short chuckle before abruptly saying,
"I didn’t expect to run into you, but since we did, let’s get this over with."

Get what over with?
Me?
Before she could fully process what was happening, she was suddenly lifted into the air.

"Ack!"
"You said you wanted to play doctor, didn’t you?"
Eisen slung her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and started walking.

"Sorry, but this old man is busy. If I left you to walk on your own, the sun would set before you got anywhere, so we’re doing this instead."
Did he just—
Did he just call my legs short?!

And say I’d never make it before sundown?!
Elodie vowed, then and there, I will remember this.
Even with a limp, Eisen carried her effortlessly. His sheer physicality made it look easy, and before she knew it—

They had already arrived.
This place…
Eisen set her down on a sofa, then walked over to his desk—buried under mountains of documents—sat down, and immediately began working.

The room was silent, except for the occasional scratching of a quill against parchment.
Elodie, staring at him blankly, couldn’t help but ask,
"What are you doing?"

"Work."
"What about the doctor game?"
She hadn’t planned on pestering him to play, but if he was the one who insisted on playing a game and then just abandoned her, what was she supposed to do?

And in an office, of all places, with no toys in sight.
"You said you wanted to inspect everything I eat down to the last detail."
"……"

"Watch me eat."
Oh, right. She had mentioned that.
Eisen, apparently recalling what she had said in the carriage, assigned her an additional task.

"Write down the meal plan, and I’ll give it to the chef later."
"……"
"If you do a good job, I’ll even stamp it with an approval seal."

When she stayed silent, he added that last bit like it was some great reward.
…This is supposed to be a game?
If he plays with a kid twice, they’d probably be traumatized enough to run for their lives.

It was odd—he was good at understanding children’s perspectives, yet he clearly wasn’t skilled at entertaining them.
Kids probably adored him at first, drawn in by his blunt but affectionate nature—only to quickly realize he was absolutely not fun and start avoiding him.
Maybe he was just too much of a workaholic to understand play as a concept.

But since Elodie wasn’t actually a child, she obediently sat there and observed his meal.
Does he always eat in his office?
He never once looked away from his documents, not even to eat properly.

Of course, he was just shoving down a sandwich between his work.
Watching him, a possibility struck her.
Wait… is the Duke’s cause of death… overwork?

She had assumed it was poison since he had seemed perfectly healthy before he died, but maybe he just… collapsed from sheer exhaustion.
If that were the case, there was nothing she could do.
She couldn’t take on his workload for him.

And she certainly couldn’t tell someone in his position to slow down.
…Should I just dump everything on Edmund?
But he was only fifteen.

Ugh.
As Elodie was racking her brain over what to do, a familiar scent caught her nose.
Huh?

She sniffed again.
That’s… Sindora tea leaves?
Her nose twitched as she pinpointed the source of the scent.

A maid was preparing tea, carefully placing the leaves into a strainer.
Sindora tea was a rare specialty known for its ability to sharpen the mind.
She had seen it before in the palace.

It was commonly served in high-stakes settings—conference halls full of scheming nobles, magic towers where researchers worked through sleepless nights, even in ballrooms where socialites gossiped while dancing.
Drinking too much of that isn’t good for you…