Raising Beast Cubs to Find a Husband-Chapter 83: The Frozen Princess and The Warlord Escort

The East Wing of the Royal Palace was usually a place of silence and shadows, but today, the air vibrated with a different kind of tension.

Primrose marched down the marble corridor, her boots clicking rhythmically against the stone. She wasn’t wearing her apron. She was wearing a sturdy traveling coat over her dress, her hair pulled back in a severe bun that meant business, and Rurik’s satchel slung across her chest.

She stopped in front of the heavy oak doors of the Grand Duke’s study. But before she could pound on them, the side door to the solar opened.

Princess Leonora stepped out. She looked frantic, her golden hair slightly disheveled, as if she had been running.

"Primrose!" Leonora gasped, nearly colliding with the petite tutor. "You’re back! I heard what happened—the carriage, the escape... did you really take Ellia to a daycare?"

"We took a field trip," Primrose corrected, her voice steady. "And we fixed the problem. The anklet is gone. Mr. Whisper is evicted. Ellia is safe."

Leonora slumped against the wall, a hand over her heart. "Oh, thank the Stars. I was so worried."

"Where is Lord Bastion? I need to speak to him. Now." Primrose said, her eyes narrowing as she looked at the closed doors of the study.

Leonora winced. She looked at the closed doors, then back at Primrose.

"You can’t," Leonora said softly.

"Watch me," Primrose stepped forward. "I have a grappling hook and zero patience."

"No, Primrose, I mean you literally can’t," Leonora shook her head. "He isn’t there. He left."

Primrose froze. "Left? What do you mean ’left’?"

"About an hour ago," Leonora explained, wringing her hands. "Right after his carriage returned from the city. He looked... haunted. He packed a single bag, summoned his personal guard, and rode out. He said he had urgent business to attend to at his private estate."

Primrose let out a sharp breath. He ran, she thought furiously. He saw Ellia in the market. He saw his daughter for the first time in a year, saw the pain on her face, and instead of stopping... he ran away.

"He is a coward," Primrose muttered. "A terrified, grieving coward."

"He is the Grand Duke," Leonora reminded her gently, though she didn’t disagree. "Primrose, you cannot chase him. If he has retreated to his estate, he will be behind high walls. The Royal Guard won’t let a Tutor through."

Primrose smiled. It wasn’t a nice smile. It was the smile of a Gamer who had just unlocked the Call for Backup ability.

"I know," Primrose said. "That’s why I didn’t come alone."

She turned around and snapped her fingers.

The Pack Arrives

From the shadows of the main corridor, four figures emerged.

They didn’t walk; they prowled. The hallway, which was designed to accommodate royal processions, suddenly felt cramped.

General Rajah (Tiger) led the formation. He was wearing his full military regalia—a coat of midnight blue with gold epaulets that emphasized the terrifying width of his shoulders. His hand rested casually on the hilt of his saber, and his striped tail twitched with controlled aggression.

To his left was Lord Rurik (Wolf). The giant of the North wore furs and leather armor, looking like he had just walked off a battlefield. He carried no weapon, because Rurik was the weapon.

To his right, Archduke Cassian (Snake). He wore a pristine, tailored suit that cost more than the entire daycare, his monocle catching the light. He held a tablet in one hand, already calculating logistics.

And behind them all, melting out of the dim lighting like a wraith, was Duke Lucien (Panther). He wore black silk, silent and deadly.

The Four Warlords of the Continent stopped behind Primrose. They formed a wall of muscle, magic, and political power that could topple nations.

Primrose looked up at Leonora.

"I brought friends."

The Princess Short-Circuits

Leonora stared.

She looked at Primrose. Then she looked up. And up.

Her gaze landed on General Rajah.

The Tiger Warlord was looking around the hallway with a critical eye, checking for threats. When his gaze swept over Leonora, he paused. He offered a stiff, polite nod.

"Princess Leonora," Rajah rumbled, his voice deep enough to vibrate the floorboards. "Greetings."

Leonora’s brain simply... stopped.

She opened her mouth to reply. She wanted to say, Greetings, General Rajah, welcome to the Palace.

What came out was: "H-h... Gwah."

She blinked rapidly. A blush of epic proportions—a red so bright it rivaled Rurik’s cape—shot up her neck and consumed her face. Her knees knocked together audibly.

This was the man she had been pining over for years. The man whose posters she may or may not have hidden under her mattress. And he was here. In her hallway. Looking devastatingly handsome and smelling like sandalwood and danger.

"Is the Princess unwell?" Rajah asked Primrose, frowning. "She appears to be hyperventilating. Does she require a healer?"

"She’s fine," Primrose patted Leonora’s arm sympathetically. "Just... processing."

Archduke Cassian stepped forward, ignoring the flustered Princess to focus on the mission.

"So," Cassian said, his golden eyes sharp behind his monocle. "The target has fled?"

"Yes," Primrose nodded, switching back to Commander Mode. "He left for his private estate an hour ago."

"Typical prey behavior," Rurik grunted, cracking his knuckles. "He senses the predator, so he runs to his den. It makes the hunt more fun."

"It makes the logistics annoying," Cassian corrected, tapping his tablet. "If he is at his private estate, he is technically on sovereign soil. We cannot legally breach the gates without a warrant from the Emperor."

"I do not care about warrants," Rajah growled, his ears flattening. "The man is harboring knowledge of a Void outbreak. That is a threat to the global security. If he does not open the gate, I will kick it down."

"I can bypass the locks," Lucien offered softly. "Or simply enter through the chimney. It is less... messy."

Primrose watched them discuss the invasion of a Duke’s home like they were planning a lunch menu.

"Guys," Primrose interrupted. "We aren’t kicking down gates yet. We try talking first. Remember the plan? Diplomatic pressure."

"Fine," Rurik pouted. "But if talking fails, then we kick?"

"Then we kick," Primrose agreed.

She turned back to Leonora, who was currently fanning herself with her hand, trying to regain the ability to speak.

"Leo," Primrose said gently. "Focus. I need to know where he went. Which estate?"

Leonora shook her head, forcing her eyes away from Rajah’s biceps. She took a deep breath.

"The Obsidian Estate," Leonora managed to say, her voice an octave higher than usual. "It... it is in the Blackwood Forest, about two hours north of the capital. It’s his fortress of solitude. He goes there when he wants to disappear."

"The Blackwood Forest," Cassian noted. "Difficult terrain. But accessible."

"Is it fortified?" Rajah asked Leonora directly.

Leonora squeaked. "Y-yes! I mean... yes, General. High walls. Magic wards. Gargoyles. The usual."

"Gargoyles," Rurik laughed. "Crunchy."

"Thank you, Leo," Primrose said. "You stay here. Keep the Emperor distracted. Tell him... tell him I’m taking the rest of the day to prepare a special lesson plan."

"A lesson plan involving four Warlords?" Leonora whispered.

"It’s a very advanced lesson," Primrose winked. 𝘧𝑟𝑒𝑒𝘸𝘦𝘣𝑛𝑜𝘷𝑒𝓁.𝘤𝘰𝓂

"We burn daylight," Lucien stated, moving toward the exit.

"Let’s move," Rajah commanded, turning on his heel. His cape swooshed dramatically.

Leonora watched him go, looking like she might faint.

Primrose paused. She looked at her friend.

"Leo," Primrose whispered. "Breathe. You’re turning purple."

"He looked at me," Leonora wheezed, clutching Primrose’s arm. "He spoke to me. Did you hear his voice? It was like thunder wrapped in velvet."

"I heard it," Primrose laughed. "He asked if you needed a doctor."

"I do," Leonora swooned. "A doctor of love."

"Okay, you’re delirious. Go lie down. I have a dad to catch."

Primrose ran to catch up with the Warlords.

They walked out of the Palace in a V-formation—Primrose at the point, flanked by the deadliest men in the Empire. The guards at the gate took one look at them and scrambled out of the way without asking a single question.

As they reached the carriage waiting in the courtyard, Rajah offered his hand to help Primrose up.

"The Obsidian Estate," Rajah murmured, looking north. "Why does a grieving man need a fortress, Primrose?"

"He doesn’t," Primrose said, climbing in. She looked at the horizon, her expression hardening.

"He needs a prison. And he’s built one for himself."

She sat down, the carriage rocking as the massive Warlords climbed in after her.

"Let’s go break him out."

The carriage lurched forward, thundering toward the Blackwood Forest. The hunt for the truth—and the cure—had begun.