Raising Beast Cubs to Find a Husband-Chapter 79: The Great Escape

The Warlords had left, carrying their sleeping cubs home. The war council was adjourned, but the tension lingered in the air like ozone before a storm.

In my small apartment, the only sound was the rhythmic ticking of the clock and Orion’s soft snoring from the bedroom.

I was sitting on the rug in the living room, a first-aid kit open beside me. Caspian sat on the sofa, shirtless, while I applied a fresh layer of my glowing blue herb paste to his shoulder.

The corruption looked angry tonight. The grey veins had spread just a fraction of an inch further down his chest, branching out like frost on a windowpane.

"It’s moving," I whispered, my fingers gentle as I smoothed the paste over his cold skin. "Just a little, but it’s moving."

Caspian didn’t look at the wound. He looked at me. His teal eyes were calm, almost too calm.

"It is reacting to the ambient mana," he said softly. "Or perhaps to the stress of your world. The Surface is... loud."

"We have to find a cure," I said, my voice tight. I wrapped a clean bandage around his shoulder, securing it with a pin. "Ellia’s mother... Duchess Seraphina... she died from this. My soup is just a band-aid, Caspian. It’s suppressing it, not killing it. If we don’t find the source, or a counter-curse..."

I trailed off, unable to say the words. I can’t lose you too.

Caspian reached out. His large hand covered mine, stopping my frantic movements. His skin was cool, contrasting with my feverish warmth.

"Primrose," he said. "Do not borrow sorrow from tomorrow. We have a plan."

"A dangerous plan," I muttered, sitting back on my heels. "Kidnapping a royal child. Confronting a Void Cultivator. Trusting a bunch of chaotic Warlords to keep a secret."

"We will succeed," Caspian stated with the absolute confidence of a King. "Because the alternative is unacceptable. We will save the girl. We will sign the Treaty. And then..."

He squeezed my hand.

"...we will find a way to fix this," he gestured to his shoulder. "I am a Leviathan. I do not die easily."

I looked up at him. In the dim light, with his hair loose and his expression fierce, he looked less like a neighbor and more like the legend he was. 𝐟𝕣𝗲𝕖𝕨𝗲𝐛𝗻𝗼𝐯𝗲𝚕.𝗰𝚘𝐦

"Okay," I breathed. "Treaty first. Ellia first."

"Get some sleep, Neighbor," Caspian said, releasing my hand. "Tomorrow, you have a heist to pull."

---

The West Wing (The Next Morning)

The next morning, I arrived at the Palace not as a Tutor, but as an accomplice.

I wore my Action Outfit—trousers under my skirt, comfortable boots, and a satchel packed with bribery cookies and a spare cloak.

I unlocked the ironwood doors.

Inside, Lady Ellia was waiting. She wasn’t swinging from the chandelier today. She was sitting in the middle of the floor, surrounded by a ring of torn-up books. She was muttering to herself, her eyes darting around the empty room.

"He says you’re late," Ellia whispered as I entered. "Mr. Whisper says you’re scared."

I felt a chill, but I stomped it down. Game face, Primrose.

"Mr. Whisper is a liar," I announced loudly, stepping over a ruined copy of Imperial History. "I’m not late. I was just preparing the field trip."

Ellia looked up. Her golden eyes were dull, rimmed with dark circles. "Field trip?"

"Yes," I said, crouching down to her level. "I’ve decided that this room is boring. The books are boring."

I leaned in conspiratorially.

"Do you want to see where the real monsters live?"

Ellia blinked. A spark of interest flickered in her gaze. "Real monsters?"

"Oh yes," I nodded. "I know a place. It has a Tiger who breaks doors. A Wolf who eats raw meat. A Snake who speaks in riddles. And a Merman Prince who breathes water."

Ellia scoffed. "You’re lying. Mermen aren’t real. My uncle said they are myths made up by sailors."

"Your uncle is wrong about a lot of things," I said. "Come with me, and I’ll introduce you to him. Unless..."

I stood up, pretending to look bored.

"...unless you’re scared. It’s okay. The outside world is big and scary. You can stay here with your imaginary friend."

I turned toward the door.

I counted to three in my head.

One.

Two.

Thr—

"I’m not scared!" Ellia shouted, scrambling to her feet. "I am a Lion! I fear nothing!"

She ran up to me, grabbing my hand. Her grip was surprisingly strong.

"Take me to the monsters," she demanded. "I will bite them."

"Deal," I grinned. "But first... disguise."

I pulled a hooded cloak from my bag. It was a simple brown wool, the kind a servant’s child would wear.

"Put this on," I instructed. "If the guards see the Princess, they’ll stop us. If they see a kitchen maid’s daughter... we’re invisible."

Ellia put on the cloak. She pulled the hood up, hiding her golden curls. For the first time in days, she didn’t look like a possessed royal. She just looked like a kid playing hide-and-seek.

"Let’s go," I whispered.

---

Sneaking out of the West Wing was easy. The guards were used to Tutors fleeing in tears, so when they saw me walking briskly with a servant girl carrying my bag, they didn’t look twice.

The hard part was the Main Gates.

The Royal Guards at the gate weren’t the lazy West Wing sentries. These were the elite Lion Guard. They checked everyone.

I walked toward the gate, holding Ellia’s hand tight. My heart was hammering against my ribs.

"Name and business?" the Captain asked, blocking our path with a halberd.

"Primrose," I said, flashing my Tutor ID. "Heading out for supplies. This is... my assistant. She carries the books."

The Captain narrowed his eyes. He looked down at Ellia.

"Pull back your hood, girl," the Captain ordered.

My stomach dropped. If he saw those golden curls...

Ellia froze. I squeezed her hand.

"She has a rash," I lied quickly. "Highly contagious. Fungus from the old library books. I wouldn’t get too close."

The Captain flinched back. "Fungus?"

"Very nasty," I nodded. "Turns the skin green. Oozes pus."

"Ugh," the Captain grimaced. "Go. Just go."

He waved us through.

I let out a breath I had been holding for five minutes. We walked through the gates. We were out. We were on the city streets.

"You lied," Ellia whispered, looking up at me with awe. "You lied to a Royal Guard."

"I told a creative fiction," I corrected. "Now, hurry. The carriage is waiting."

---

We made it two blocks before disaster struck.

I was leading Ellia toward the alley where Jax was waiting with a nondescript carriage. The streets were crowded with midday shoppers.

Suddenly, a horn blew.

HOOOOONK.

The crowd parted. A massive, gilded carriage was coming down the street, flanked by twelve mounted knights.

The Royal Crest of the Grand Duke was painted on the door.

Lord Bastion.

I froze. "Duck," I hissed, shoving Ellia behind a fruit stand.

We crouched behind a crate of apples. I peeked over the top.

The carriage slowed down. The window curtain twitched.

I saw him. Lord Bastion. He was looking out at the crowd, his face pale and grim. He was scanning the faces.

And then... he looked right at the fruit stand.

His eyes locked onto mine.

I stopped breathing.

He sees me. He knows.

Bastion’s gaze lingered for a second. Then, it drifted past me, to the child in the brown cloak huddled behind my legs.

Ellia was peeking out. She saw him.

Her eyes widened. Her lip trembled.

"Papa?" she whispered.

Bastion stared at the hooded figure. For a moment, a flash of recognition—or maybe just pain—crossed his face.

Then, the curtain snapped shut.

The carriage rolled on.

Ellia stood up. She stared after the retreating carriage, her small hands clenched into fists.

"He didn’t stop," she whispered. Her voice broke. "He saw me. And he didn’t stop."

The air around her grew cold. The shadows under the fruit stand stretched, darkening like spilled ink. The apples in the crate began to rot instantly, turning brown and mushy.

"Ellia," I said sharply, grabbing her shoulders. "Look at me."

She looked up. Her eyes were flickering violet.

"He hates me," she said, her voice layering with that horrible double-tone again. Mr. Whisper says he wishes I was dead.

"Mr. Whisper is wrong," I said firmly, shaking her. "Listen to me. We are going to fix this. But not here. Not now."

I pulled her toward the alley.

"Come on. The monsters are waiting."

We ran. We jumped into Jax’s carriage just as the shadows on the street began to writhe.

"Drive!" I yelled.

Jax cracked the reins. The carriage surged forward, leaving the Palace—and the darkness—behind.

Next stop: Little Whiskers Daycare.