PSW Chapter 28: The Resentful Palace Cat
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A month had passed since the banquet, and Bastet hadn't seen Yofar in the palace bedroom.
He was endlessly busy, working in the royal council chamber by day and buried in reports in a side hall by night. Eventually, he simply started sleeping there.
Yofar never took a queen.
Bastet heard that he had coldly and casually dealt with Princesses Batrana and Nerfetari, then declared a nonexistent "Batrana" as his queen.
The ministers who had sided with the new king felt deceived and resented it. However, those unaware of the princesses' fate consoled themselves—at least the king had a queen now, and sooner or later, there would be a royal consort.
Besides, after the night of the banquet, Yofar had instilled deep fear in their hearts. They swallowed their grievances and chose silence.
The court was now filled with unfamiliar faces—new officials who obeyed Yofar without question. Meanwhile, the spies and informants who had remained to monitor the court vanished without a trace.
At first, Bastet didn't notice the difference. But one day, upon waking up and realizing that even half the palace maids in the king’s chambers had disappeared, it became clear just how difficult Yofar’s life had been before.
He had always seemed so at ease, so casual, that no one could see the chains that had bound him—or the predators lurking in the shadows, waiting for a chance to tear him apart.
Now that those people were gone, Yofar had changed in a way that made him unrecognizable.
His handsome face remained the same, but his smile had faded. Once, he would joke, tease, and even flirt with his cat despite his allergies.
Before, his beauty was the first thing people noticed.
Now, standing tall with his platinum hair and double crown, he looked like a ruthless ice sculpture—cold and lethal. He made no effort to conceal his power. It felt as if even touching his face would leave one cut and bleeding.
Bastet crouched on the floor, watching him pass by. His figure was poised and proud, his platinum hair trailing sharply behind him, and his cape swayed with each step—fearless and untamed.
His smile was gone.
But he was free.
A pang of sadness welled in Bastet’s heart. The Yofar he once knew felt like a distant mirage, fading further and further from reach.
"Meow~"
Sigh. Another night without my human...
The little black cat, now a neglected house pet, collapsed onto the soft cushion beneath the royal bed, lazily flicking open one eye to glance at the empty space. With a lonely sigh, it lamented its fate.
"Meoooow~"
How long had it been since Yofar last cuddled him?
Bastet stretched out his little paws and counted on his pads. When he finished, his emerald eyes widened in outrage.
What?! Fifteen days, seven hours, and thirty minutes?!
And even then, the last time he was touched, it was just one measly pat!
Once upon a time, Yofar had been so sweet—cuddling from a distance, risking his allergies just to kiss him, calling him “little thing” and “my baby.”
And now?
Work had made him forget his cat!
Hah. Men.
Meow, hmpf!
Bastet bitterly grabbed his own tail and bit it, venting his frustration. When he had chewed enough, he shook his fur and slinked toward the door with slow, deliberate steps.
"Meow~" Open up! I’m running away! This life is unbearable!
He meowed at the two maids standing guard at the chamber doors, but they only lowered their gazes and remained expressionless.
"Apologies, Lord Bastet. Without His Majesty's orders, you may not leave the royal chambers."
"Meow!" I’ve been locked up for a month! What the hell does he want?!
Soft confinement for a cat—was Yofar insane?
The maids pursed their lips, ignored Bastet’s protests, and stood motionless.
Bastet, furious, circled around the windows looking for an escape route.
No luck. Even the windows were guarded.
The maids sneered silently. Want to escape? Ha, go ahead and phase through walls if you can.
Bastet: "…" I actually can’t do that…
Dejected, the little black furball slumped onto the cushion again, spreading himself out like a miserable pancake.
He had no idea what Yofar was thinking. Ever since that day, he had been locked inside the bedroom. Yofar was too busy to come back, and he wouldn’t let the cat roam freely either.
Bastet had tried to rebel—using his black-as-the-void fur to hide and pretend he had escaped. But the new maids weren’t fooled; they just stood guard like statues.
Even his old caretaker, Lady Alina, was only allowed inside during mealtimes.
After two weeks of this captivity, Bastet finally snapped.
When Alina brought him food, he flipped the bowl over!
The little black cat (╬Ò﹏Ó) : "Meowoooow—I'm going on a hunger strike! Let me out or let me die! You can imprison my body, but you can’t chain my soul! If I die, I’ll haunt you all as a cat ghost!"
Alina: "…"
The old woman sighed, amused yet helpless, and left without arguing.
That night, for the first time in weeks, Yofar returned.
He entered the chamber, his presence carrying the heat of Egypt’s sweltering nights. Without a word, he sat on the cushion and stared at Bastet.
The little cat, now curled into a tiny ball of submission, ate obediently under his gaze, not daring to protest.
Only after he had finished did Yofar's sharp brows relax. He reached out, ruffled Bastet’s head, and then…
Without a word, he turned and left.
"…?"
Wait. That’s it?
What was that even supposed to mean?
Bastet was utterly confused. He had no idea what Yofar was thinking. But after that night, he never dared to starve himself again. He was too afraid of getting punished.
And now, exactly fifteen days had passed once more.
Just when Bastet thought tonight would be another lonely, resentful night…
Outside, there was a sudden rustling sound.
Then, the dreaded door—the one keeping him imprisoned—finally opened!
Holy crap! The door opened!
Bastet jolted upright in an instant, his green eyes snapping toward the doorway.
Moments later, a man dressed as a palace attendant strode in hastily, flanked by royal guards.
He walked straight to Bastet, muttering quickly under his breath, "Lord Bastet, Lord Nephthys sent me. Please come with me!"
Before Bastet could even react, the man scooped him up and turned to leave.
In his rush, however, he had somehow managed to grab Bastet the wrong way—holding his butt where his head should be and vice versa.
Upside-down, the little black cat dangled helplessly. "…Meow." Uh, buddy, you might want to double-check. That’s my butt you’re looking at.
The attendant froze at the sound, glanced down, and was met—not with a pair of shining green eyes—but with a very undignified view of a tiny feline backside.
Realizing his mistake, he panicked and quickly flipped Bastet around.
"My deepest apologies, Lord Bastet!" he stammered, still hurrying forward. "You’re just so black—I couldn’t tell which end was which."
Bastet: "…"
The little black cat bared his tiny fangs. Alright. Nephthys’s attendant, right? I’ll remember you.
When they finally arrived at the palace hall where Yofar was handling state affairs, Bastet spotted Nephthys waiting outside.
The moment they reached her, the frazzled attendant shoved Bastet into her arms with a sigh of relief.
T/N: Please give support on my ko-fi page, thank you🍊🍊🍊
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