Reborn as the Psycho Villainess Who Ate Her Slave Beasts' Contracts-Chapter 33 - -

Kael picked up the vial carefully, turning it over. "What do you want in exchange, Your Highness?"

"A meeting with your senior partners if the test succeeds. I’m proposing licensing agreements [6]. You pay a flat fee for each preservation anchor, plus a percentage of revenue from goods successfully delivered using my technology. I retain exclusive production rights. You gain reliable spoilage prevention."

"And if it fails?"

"Then you waste nothing except four days and return the anchor. No obligation."

Kael studied her face, clearly trying to reconcile the cold business proposal with the royal princess sitting across from him. "Your Highness, forgive my bluntness, but... why? Why would someone of your status care about shipping margins and merchant profits?"

Elara met his eyes without expression. "Because I need independent revenue and you need better logistics. Our interests align. That’s sufficient."

The honesty seemed to surprise him more than any diplomatic answer would have.

He closed his hand around the vial. "I’ll test it. And if it works..." He paused. "Your Highness, the merchant guilds don’t usually partner with nobility. There’s history there. Broken contracts, confiscated goods, legal games we always lose."

"I’m not interested in confiscation or games. I’m interested in sustainable business relationships where both parties profit." She pulled out a prepared contract draft. "Standard commercial terms. No aristocratic privilege clauses. Disputes settled through merchant arbitration courts, not imperial jurisdiction."

Kael’s eyebrows rose as he scanned the document. "You’re serious."

"Completely."

He stood, still holding the vial, and bowed—deeper this time, with genuine respect rather than protocol. "I’ll test your device, Your Highness. And I’ll speak to my partners."

"That’s all I ask."

As Dimitri escorted him out, Elara returned to her desk and made notes: ’First contact: successful. Merchant skepticism manageable. Key objection: historical distrust of nobility. Solution: demonstrate reliability through results, not promises.’

The preservation anchor she’d given him had taken three days of continuous work to create and represented the absolute limit of her current magical control. It would work—barely—for exactly ninety-six hours before the spell degraded.

If he came back wanting more, she’d need to produce them at scale.

Which meant fourteen-hour days in the laboratory and no room for error.

Acceptable.

She pulled her mother’s research notes back out and resumed studying.

Outside her window, the palace continued its usual routines—politics, intrigue, competition.

Inside this room, Elara was building something different.

Something they wouldn’t see coming until it was far too late to stop.

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Four days. That’s all Elara needed—four days for the preservation anchors to prove themselves, for the guild masters to run their tests, for the contracts to be finalized and the money to start flowing.

She should have known her sisters wouldn’t give her four quiet days.

The invitation arrived on the second morning, delivered by a palace messenger in Eleana’s house colors. Heavy cream paper, gold leaf edging, scented with rose oil. Elara opened it with the enthusiasm one might reserve for discovering spoiled meat.

’You are cordially invited to the Annual Princesses’ Gathering’

’Hosted by First Princess Eleana’

’Tomorrow evening, seventh bell’

’Attendance is expected of all imperial daughters’

Lisa appeared in the doorway, wringing her hands. "Your Highness, the messenger said refusal would be... noticed."

"Of course it would." Elara set down the invitation like something contaminated. "What exactly is this gathering?"

Lisa’s expression turned uncomfortable. "It’s... well, Your Highness, it’s called the Ladies’ Exhibition by some. Others call it the Knights’ Parade. Officially, it’s a social function for princesses to display their household strength and—"

"And show off their personal knights like prized horses," Elara finished. "I’ve read about it in the records. I was hoping it had been discontinued."

"No, Your Highness. Princess Eleana revived the tradition three years ago." Lisa’s voice dropped. "It’s become quite... competitive. The princesses bring their bonded knights, demonstrate their capabilities, discuss their... various talents."

Elara understood immediately. This wasn’t a party. It was a humiliation ritual disguised as social gathering—a chance for Eleana and the other princesses to parade their power while the Fourth Princess, who’d never bonded a personal knight, sat alone and was publicly mocked for her weakness.

Every single year, according to the previous princess’s diary entries, she’d attended and endured hours of thinly veiled insults about her lack of a "worthy companion." About how a princess without a bonded knight was barely a princess at all. About how pathetic it was to remain unchosen, unbonded, unprotected.

"Your Highness," Lisa ventured carefully, "you could select a knight before tomorrow. The fox knight you rescued is already loyal. The bonding ritual only takes a few hours—"

"No."

"But Your Highness, appearing without a personal knight will give Princess Eleana ammunition to—"

"I said no." Elara looked at the invitation again, analyzing angles.

She simply did not want a chain disguised as loyalty.

Imperial knights were never just knights. They were the Emperor’s eyes, stitched carefully into flesh and armor. Too loyal. Too present. Always watching. Always standing there—silent, unmoving.

She imagined waking in the middle of the night, breath uneven, only to find someone standing beside her bed like a pillar carved from duty.

No privacy. No freedom. No peace.

And Elara valued her solitude far too much to surrender it for a party meant to turn people into toys.

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PARTY DAY

The Western Garden Pavilion glowed with lantern light and too much wine. By the time Elara arrived, the gathering was already well underway—which meant the conversation had already shifted into territory she’d been dreading.

"—absolutely *exquisite* stamina," Eleana was saying, one hand resting possessively on Robin’s arm. "Three hours yesterday, and he didn’t even need recovery time. The bond makes everything so much more intense."

Appreciative murmurs from the gathered princesses. A few noble ladies in attendance fanned themselves.

Elara stopped just inside the pavilion entrance, taking in the scene with clinical detachment.

This wasn’t a political gathering. It was a performance—princesses showing off their knights like prized breeding stock, discussing bedroom capabilities with the same tone one might use to evaluate horses at auction.

Sera laughed from her position near the center. "Three hours? Sir Matthias managed five last week. Though I’ll admit I needed healing magic afterward." She ran her fingers along her wolf knight’s arm. "The bite marks were... memorable."

Matthias’s expression remained neutral, but his ears flicked once—the only sign he was even listening to his mistress discussing their intimate activities in public.

"Oh, Fifth Sister is too young for this conversation," Eleana said with exaggerated concern as Lydia turned bright red. "Though I suppose you’ll learn soon enough, dear. The bond creates such delicious synchronization. You’ll feel everything he feels, and vice versa. Makes the bedroom quite the adventure."

More laughter. Lydia looked like she wanted to die.

Then Eleana noticed Elara standing at the entrance. Her smile widened.

"Fourth Sister! How wonderful that you decided to join us after all. We were just discussing the... benefits of personal knights. Though I suppose you wouldn’t know much about that, would you?"

All conversation stopped. Every eye turned to Elara and the conspicuous empty space beside her.

Elara walked forward slowly, expression blank. "I know enough."

"Do you?" Sera leaned back in her seat, wine glass in hand. "Because from what I understand, you’ve never bonded a knight. Never even spent a night with one. You do know that’s what they’re *for*, don’t you? The combat skills are just convenient additional features."

"They’re bed warmers with swords," another princess—one of the lesser daughters—added with a giggle. "Very talented bed warmers, mind you. The beast-clan breeds for it."