Pherenike - Chapter 76

Following the princess’s lead, the king found a decaying dead wild dog with several dead pups around it, looking like its mother, and one barely alive yet dying pup.

The princess had her father tenderly brought home that filthy, mud and death-streaked little dog.

It was Pherenike who healed the puppy that night. Though she had somewhat recovered after giving birth to Leuce, her use of Althea was still not effortless.

It was a costly effort for such an insignificant wild dog, but she thought it too early for the princess to learn about death.

“Look, look, the tail is moving! It opened its eyes.”

Pherenike had somewhat overstretched herself to fully bring back the dog that was on the brink of death.

Unaware of her mother struggling to catch her breath behind her while holding her stomach that felt like it was about to tear apart, the child was delighted. She watched the dog wagging its tail vigorously on the bed.

The child, who was not yet able to articulate the thought that ‘this must surely be a miracle,’ kept repeating how amazing it was.

“Amazing. Mother is amazing.”

“Indeed, I am amazing.”

The loud admiration was relentless. Pherenike responded dryly, resting her tired head under the bed. The princess hugged the small dog and rolled over the blanket.

A faint smile spread across Pherenike’s face as she slightly tilted her head.

“Feels like you’ve been together for ten years?”

The child was still far from being ten years old, and the small dog had not even been a month, it was a trivial thing.

Yet, the dog knew the princess was its savior, and the princess sensed the dog would become her most loyal subject. Sometimes, a fateful certainty was stronger than time itself.

Pherenike blankly watched as the small insignificant things fell in love like fate.

As the child grew, she seemed to resemble no one.

Pherenike liked animals well enough but had only ever taken special care of Atalanta throughout her life.

She had a special fondness for the wolfhounds Deucalion raised but they were not hers. Without Deucalion, she might have grown up without even that much interest.

“To cherish such an utterly useless thing so much.”

And the child’s father was a heartless sort who had no interest in animals unless they were of some use to him.

From a young age, he raised falcons for hunting and kept a few special horses in his stables. That was all. Without Leuce, any sentiment for cute and pitiful things would forever be unattainable from him.

Ironically, Pherenike was reminded of the young Deucalion when she looked at the princess, even though her very existence seemed to inherently deceive and insult Deucalion.

From a young age, Deucalion had always had a soft spot for non-human creatures. Even the day she impulsively brought a lioness cub to him, he took care of it as diligently as if it were his cat. She had promised Deucalion to help care for it with him in the palace but ended up leaving all the troublesome care to her fiance.

He was slightly saddened when she took it back as soon as she had permission from her father. It was more so because Atalanta didn’t look back at the boy who couldn’t communicate with her.

And his wolfhounds were a sort of ‘failed experiment’. They were all rescued from the brink of slaughter.

The people of Palos bred captured wolves with dogs for hunting purposes, then sorted the offspring by temperament to decide which to keep and which to kill.

All the fathers of these wolf dogs were wolves, and the mothers were the most docile of dogs. Thus, those who resembled their mothers lived, and those who resembled their fathers died.

Even if they wished for the courage of a wolf, they had to be utterly gentle with humans. The Palos people selectively bred them for this gentleness, making sure the offspring of wolves and dogs forgot their wolfish nature in the presence of humans. Any hint of wildness meant exclusion from Palos’ lineage.

Deucalion personally took in these discarded, fierce dogs and painstakingly tamed them. Eventually, they all became the valiant war dogs of Paetusa.

Pherenike sometimes saw in the princess the same look Deucalion had when he watched his wolfhounds, the same look for her lioness.

In the moments when sunlight transforms the greenery into blossoming flowers bathed in light.

But the princess was unmistakably Actor’s child.

“Have you decided on a name?”

“Ung.”

When her father asked gently, the princess named her after a star she had learned about not long ago.

“Seirios.”

The child babbled about the mysteries of that star that was visible during a hot summer day, unlike at night.

“Summer comes because of that star. The star shines like the dog’s eye. Ino told me.”

“You’re smart.”

Actor praised her with his typically blunt face and kissed the princess’s soft head. Pherenike watched them blankly, repeating the name in her mind.

Seirios. Blazing fire.

Deucalion’s most cherished wolfhound also bore that name.

The fire that slid down her throat, burned through her chest.

Pherenike quietly left Leuce’s room.

*Seirios = Sirius, the Alpha Star of the Canis Major constellation