Raising Beast Cubs to Find a Husband-Chapter 43: The King of the Deep

The Shark-kin guards hauled Primrose through the arched doorway of the Royal Chamber, their grip bruising her arms.

Primrose gasped—a reflex she couldn’t stop, even though she wasn’t drowning. Before dragging her from the cell, the guards had forced her to swallow a Gilly-Weed Pearl, a bitter, slimy little orb that coated her throat and lungs with magic. It allowed her to pull oxygen from the water, though the sensation was strange—cold, thick, and heavy in her chest.

She blinked, her eyes adjusting to the bioluminescent glow of the room. And then, she froze.

In the center of the chamber, floating lazily above a bed of white sand and giant clamshells, was King Caspian de Maris.

Primrose had seen high-resolution cutscenes. She had seen fan-art of fantasy gods. She had looked at Rurik, Rajah, Cassian, and Lucien—men who were objectively stunning.

But Caspian was... other-worldly.

He was massive, easily seven feet long from head to tail-tip. His skin was the color of moonlight on water, pale and flawless, dusted with iridescent scales that shimmered like crushed diamonds along his collarbones and shoulders. His hair, a flowing mane of pearlescent white, drifted around him in the water like a halo of silk.

But it was his face that stole the air from her water-filled lungs.

It was a face carved from ice and tragedy. High cheekbones, a sharp, regal jawline, and eyes the color of the deepest, stormiest trench—teal, glowing, and framed by white lashes.

He was beautiful. Terrifyingly, heartbreakingly beautiful.

Primrose stared. Her mouth hung open slightly. Her Gamer Brain tried to analyze his stats, but all she could think was: He looks like a painting of a fallen angel.

King Caspian opened his teal eyes. He looked at the small, bedraggled Fox-kin woman standing in his sand. He saw the way her amber eyes widened. He saw the slack-jawed expression.

He let out a stream of bubbles—a long, weary sigh that vibrated through the water.

"Another one," Caspian murmured, his voice sounding bored and incredibly tired. "They all stare. As if they have never seen a tail before."

He flicked his massive, multi-colored tail, sending a ripple of pressure through the room that made Primrose stumble back.

"Dismissed," Caspian waved a hand at the guards. "Leave the Land-Walker. If she attacks, the currents will crush her."

The guards bowed and swam out, leaving Primrose alone with the monster.

Caspian didn’t stay on his divan. He turned, his movements fluid and graceful, and swam toward her.

He didn’t move like a human. He moved like a predator. He circled her, floating effortlessly, his long webbed fingers trailing through the water. He loomed over her, casting a long shadow on the sand.

He stopped inches from her face. The water around him was freezing, radiating the chill of the deep ocean.

"You are small," Caspian observed, his voice a low, melodic thrum that she felt in her teeth. "And you are fragile. A single wave would break you."

He leaned in, his glowing eyes narrowing as he dissected her.

"Crustar says you made a claim," Caspian whispered. "He says you claim to know the sickness that eats my son. A sickness that the High Mages of the Deep have failed to cure for three years."

He reached out. A cold, clawed finger lifted her chin, forcing her to look into his ancient, sad eyes.

"Tell me, Land-Walker," he commanded softly. "What does a dirt-born stray know of Royal grief? Speak. And if you lie... I will feed you to the trench-worms."

His eyes... Primrose thought, suppressing a shiver that had nothing to do with the freezing water. They are so cold. Like looking into a mirror that reflects nothing but the abyss.

"Speak," Caspian commanded again. The single word hit her chest like a physical blow.

Primrose swallowed the lump in her throat. She couldn’t tell him she knew because she had played ’Beastly B.A.D.S’ for three hundred hours. She couldn’t tell him she had read the Wiki page on Jiaoren Physiology.

She needed a lie. A smart one. One that used the truth to hide the impossible.

"Oh... well," Primrose stammered, dropping her gaze to the white sand. "I... I heard stories. From the sailors at the port. They talk about the ’Deep Sickness’..."

It was a weak lie. A desperate, fumbling lie.

Caspian didn’t even blink.

The water around him stopped flowing. The floating sand froze in mid-air.

"Sailors," Caspian repeated, his voice devoid of emotion. "You claim that drunk, superstitious surface-rats understand the sacred, magical biology of the Royal Line? You claim they know of my son’s condition when I have executed every servant who dared to whisper of it?"

He tilted his head.

"You are lying."

He didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t raise his hand. He simply flexed his aura. Just a fraction. A mere 0.1% of his Kingly power.

BOOM.

It felt like the entire ocean had just dropped onto Primrose’s shoulders.

Her knees buckled instantly. She slammed onto the hard, white sand, the impact jarring her teeth. Her lungs seized, the Gilly-Weed pearl in her throat burning like acid.

"Cough!"

Primrose gagged, her body convulsing. She coughed violently, and a cloud of red blood billowed out into the water, drifting away like smoke.

"Pathetic," Caspian observed, watching her writhe. "You Land-Walkers are so filled with deception. You come into my house, breathing my water, and you dare to insult my intelligence?"

He drifted closer, his shadow engulfing her.

"I gave you a chance, Primrose. Now, you are just pollution."

Primrose clawed at the sand, her vision spotting. The pressure was crushing her organs. If he pushed even a little harder, she would pop like a balloon.

Shit, she panicked, wiping the blood from her mouth. I can’t die here. Not like this. But I can’t tell him the truth! If I say ’I’m from Earth,’ he’ll think I’m insane and kill me faster!

She needed a lie that explained technical knowledge. She needed to name-drop someone powerful.

She forced herself to push up on trembling arms. She looked up at the terrifying, beautiful monster floating above her.

"The Snake!" Primrose gasped. "I work... for the Snake! I am his brother’s nanny."

Caspian paused. The pressure didn’t increase, but it didn’t vanish. "Archduke Argentis?"

"Yes," Primrose wheezed, blood still tasting metallic on her tongue. "I was in his manor. His private archives. The Snake... he hoards everything. Gold. Secrets. Books."

She looked him dead in the eye, channeling every ounce of sincerity she had left.

"He has a text. The ’Codex of the Deep Era’. It was written before the wars. I read it."

This was the lie. The book didn’t exist—or at least, she hadn’t read it. She knew the info from the game. But Cassian did have a massive library, and it was plausible he had forbidden books.

"The Codex described the ’Pearl-Blockage’," Primrose rushed on, the pressure slightly lifting as Caspian listened. "It described the symptoms perfectly. The grey skin. The refusal to eat. The magic hardening in the chest because of grief."

She clutched her chest, breathing hard.

"That is how I know."

Caspian stared at her. The teal light in his eyes flickered.

It made sense.

Archduke Cassian was the Imperial Treasurer. He was known for collecting rare artifacts and forbidden knowledge. If anyone on the surface had a book detailing ancient Jiaoren biology, it would be that obsessive Snake.

And this girl... she smelled of the Snake’s magic. And the Wolf’s.

"You read a forbidden text in the Archduke’s library," Caspian mused, the crushing weight finally lifting off her shoulders. "And you retained the medical details?"

"I have a good memory," Primrose whispered, wiping her mouth. "And I know how to cure it. The book... it had a recipe. An ancient broth to melt the blockage."

Caspian floated backward, his tail swishing thoughtfully. He looked at the blood floating in the water—her blood.

She was fragile. But she was resourceful.

"A Scholar-Nanny," Caspian murmured. A dry, humorless chuckle escaped his lips. "How... entertaining."

He turned his back to her, looking toward the far archway.

"Very well. You have bought yourself an hour."

He waved a hand.

"Take her to the Prince. If you truly possess the knowledge of the Ancients, Land-Walker... then prove it. But if the broth fails..."

He glanced back over his shoulder, his eyes glowing.

"...then you will wish the pressure had killed you."