Raising Beast Cubs to Find a Husband-Chapter 192: The War on Homework

Primrose crept through the gilded hallways of the palace. She was moving with the stealth of a ninja, which was difficult because she was currently followed by a cloud of Eau de Sloppy Joe.

She reached the Sovereign’s Suite and pressed her hand to the mana-lock.

Click.

She slipped inside, exhaling a sigh of relief.

"You smell like onions," a voice noted from the armchair.

Primrose jumped. Her nine tails puffed up in alarm.

Caspian sat there, reading a scroll. He lowered it, a smirk playing on his lips.

"And grease," he added, sniffing the air. "And... is that tomato paste in your hair?"

Primrose tried to look dignified, despite the hairnet still clinging to her ears.

"I smell like justice, Caspian," she declared, marching toward the bathroom. "And successful covert operations. Do you know they were serving gray stew? To children? In my empire?"

Caspian stood up and followed her. He chuckled, leaning against the doorframe as she started the bath taps.

"So, the Lunch Lady struck again?"

"I relieved Chef Gristle of command," Primrose confirmed, peeling off the sauce-stained apron. "And I stared down a Hyena. It was glorious. But now I need to scrub until I smell like a flower again, or I’m sleeping in the guest room."

Caspian walked over. He turned off the tap. He pulled a bottle of lavender oil from the shelf.

"Allow me," Caspian said softly. "The King serves the Sovereign, after all."

Primrose melted a little. "You’re too good to me."

"I know," Caspian kissed her forehead (avoiding the tomato spot). "Now get in. The Warlords are bringing the kids back in an hour. And apparently... they have homework."

An hour later, the library of the Palace was turned into a study hall.

The Six Heirs and one bunny were gathered around a massive oak table.

Vali was staring at a coloring book like it was a complex enemy code. He was gripping a red crayon in his fist.

Clover was happily drawing a picture of a carrot with a face.

Orion was practicing writing his name, sticking his tongue out in concentration.

Jasper was reading a book titled Advanced Mana Theory for Beginners.

Silas was asleep on top of a bookshelf, blending into the shadows.

But at the end of the table, the "Elders"—Arjun and Ellia—were having a crisis.

Arjun sat with his back straight. His pencils were arranged by height. His notebook was open to a fresh page.

Ellia sat opposite him. She didn’t just sit in a chair; she occupied it like a throne.

"This textbook is defective," Arjun stated, tapping the page.

"It’s boring," Ellia corrected, leaning her chin on her hand. "History of the First Age. ’The First Lion was a noble diplomat who united the clans through speeches’."

She rolled her eyes.

"My mom said the First Lion united the clans by throwing a mountain at the First Bear."

"And here," Arjun pointed to another paragraph. "’The First Tiger was a scholar who wrote poetry about the jungle’."

Arjun looked offended. "My dad said the First Tiger invented the ’Throat-Punch Maneuver’. He didn’t write poems. He wrote battle plans."

"We can’t write this," Ellia groaned, tossing her quill onto the table. "If we say they were boring diplomats, we get an A. If we tell the truth, we get detention."

"We need a primary source," Arjun analyzed. "Someone who was there. Someone who saw the mountain-throwing."

They both looked up.

Their eyes landed on the door, where Primrose had just walked in, smelling like lavender and looking fresh.

Primrose was carrying a tray of snacks (apple slices and peanut butter, because she was still in Lunch Lady mode).

"Snack time, troops," she announced.

Arjun and Ellia exchanged a look.

"Auntie Prim," Ellia said sweetly, flashing a smile that could melt a glacier. "Can we ask you a question?"

"Sure," Primrose set the tray down. Vali immediately grabbed three apples. "What’s up?"

"You have... Grandma Ophelia in your head, right?" Arjun asked, adjusting his glasses (which were just empty frames he wore to look smart like Jasper).

"I do," Primrose tapped her temple. "She’s currently complaining that I didn’t put enough salt on the popcorn earlier."

"Did she know the First Lion?" Ellia asked. "Was he... a diplomat?"

Primrose froze.

Her eyes shifted. The silver irises seemed to darken, swirling with a deep ocean blue. Her posture changed. She didn’t slouch; she stood with the ancient, casual grace of a Nine-Tailed Fox.

"Diplomat?" Primrose let out a sharp, barking laugh. "Leo? A diplomat?"

She sat down on the edge of the table, swinging her legs.

"Kids, let me tell you about Leonis the First."

The room went silent. Even Silas woke up on the bookshelf.

"Leo was big," Primrose said. "Bigger than Rurik. He didn’t make speeches. He roared. If he wanted a treaty, he walked into the enemy camp, sat on their throne, and dared them to move him."

"Did he throw a mountain?" Ellia asked, eyes shining.

"He punched a cliff because it was blocking his view of the sunset," Ophelia recalled fondly. "It crumbled. So, technically, yes."

"What about the Tiger?" Arjun asked, leaning forward.

She grinned. It was a sharp, dangerous grin.

"He was Ophelia favorite sparring partner. He wasn’t a poet. He was an assassin with a sense of humor. He invented the ’Silent Step’. He used to sneak up on Leo and paint flowers on his armor while he slept."

Arjun’s jaw dropped. "He... painted flowers?"

"Psychological warfare," Primrose winked. "It drove Leo crazy. They were best friends. They fought every Tuesday and drank together every Friday."

She looked at the textbook. She scoffed.

"Burn that. It’s trash. If you want to know history, write this down."

For the next hour, Primrose told stories.

She told them about the Serpent Matriarch who accidentally invented fireworks while trying to make soup.

She told them about the Wolf King who was afraid of thunderstorms and hid under the table during the Great Monsoon.

She told them about the Panther who stole the moon’s reflection from a lake just to win a bet.

Arjun wrote furiously. His pencil was a blur.

Ellia listened, entranced. She wasn’t writing. She was memorizing.

"So," she finished. "They weren’t statues. They were messy. They were loud. And they were family."

Primrose blinked, coming back to herself. She rubbed her head.

"Wow. Ophelia memories really wanted to get that out."

Arjun looked at his notes. They were chaotic, full of doodles and scribbles about "Exploding Soup" and "Mountain Punching."

"This is not standard curriculum," Arjun noted nervously. "Teacher will mark it wrong."

"Let her try," Ellia declared, standing up. She grabbed Arjun’s notes. "I’ll present it. If she says it’s wrong, I’ll challenge her to a duel."

Arjun looked at Ellia.

He saw the way she stood—shoulders back, chin up, fierce. Just like the First Lion.

He felt a strange feeling in his chest. It wasn’t heartburn from the Lunch Lady’s Sloppy Joes.

It was... admiration.

"I will back you up," Arjun said, standing beside her. "I will provide tactical support. We will flank the teacher with facts."

Ellia grinned at him. She punched him lightly on the shoulder.

"Good job, Stripes."

Arjun blushed. He quickly turned away to organize his pencils. "Affirmative. Good job, Princess."

The sun began to set. The Warlords arrived to collect their offspring.

Rajah walked into the library. He was wearing his casual armor (which was still heavy plate).

"Arjun," Rajah barked. "Status report. Did you conquer the homework?"

Arjun packed his bag. He placed the "Unauthorized History" essay carefully inside.

"Mission accomplished, General," Arjun saluted. "We have rewritten history."

"Rewritten?" Rajah frowned. "Is that allowed?"

"History is written by the victors," Arjun quoted Ophelia. "And we intend to win."

Rajah looked at his son. He looked at the confident tilt of Arjun’s chin.

He smiled—a rare, proud Tiger smile.

"Good lad. Let’s go get steak."

As the families walked out to the carriages, Arjun found himself walking next to Ellia.

She was carrying a heavy stack of books.

Arjun hesitated. He remembered his father’s advice about "Tactical chivalry."

"Princess," Arjun said stiffly. "Your load is unbalanced. It will impede your movement speed."

Ellia looked at him. "So?"

"I... I can carry the payload," Arjun offered, holding out his hands.

Ellia looked at the books. She looked at Arjun.

She smiled. It wasn’t her usual bossy smile. It was softer.

"Thanks, Arjun."

She handed him the books.

Arjun took them. They were heavy. But he stood taller.

"No problem," he squeaked. He cleared his throat. "No problem."

Behind them, Primrose and Caspian watched from the palace steps.

"Look at that," Primrose whispered, leaning into her husband. "History repeating itself. The Tiger and the Lion."

"Let’s hope they don’t throw mountains at each other," Caspian laughed.

"Give it ten years," Primrose smirked. "Then we’ll see."

She turned back to the palace.

"Come on, King. I have to go grade some papers. I think Ophelia just gave the entire First Age a detention."