Reborn as the Psycho Villainess Who Ate Her Slave Beasts' Contracts-Chapter 38 --

Elara bowed and walked out, Marcus falling into step behind her until the corridor branched. Then he stopped, saluted, and returned to the Emperor’s service.

She continued alone to her quarters, mind already shifting back to merchant contracts and spell refinement.

The previous princess would have been traumatized. Elara felt nothing—not guilt, not satisfaction, not even mild discomfort. It had been a transaction. Necessary for survival. Efficiently executed.

Sex was sex. Knights were knights. The empire was the empire.

She’d passed the test.

Now she could get back to building something that might actually survive her sisters’ schemes.

Elara walked out of the chamber and the door closed behind her with a soft click.

The fox knight stood exactly where she’d left him, posture rigid, eyes carefully averted. Two other guards flanked the corridor entrance, both beast-clan, both maintaining professional distance.

Elara stopped in front of the fox knight and raised her hand slightly.

He understood immediately, reaching into his uniform pocket and producing a clean white handkerchief. She took it without comment and wiped her mouth, then her hands—methodical, thorough strokes that removed any trace of what had just occurred. When she finished, she dropped the handkerchief on the stone floor without looking at it.

The fox knight’s ears flicked once in surprise. The two guards down the corridor both shifted almost imperceptibly, masks slipping for just a fraction of a second to reveal something in their eyes—shock, confusion, maybe recognition of an emotion they weren’t supposed to have.

It wasn’t unusual for royals to use beast knights and discard them afterward. That was normal. Expected.

But the way she’d discarded the evidence—the clinical disgust in the gesture—that was different.

"Your Highness," one of the guards ventured carefully, breaking protocol by speaking first. "Are you... unwell?"

Elara looked at him with that flat, empty expression. "No. Just tradition." Her tone made the word sound like an insult.

She turned to the fox knight. "I won’t get pregnant from this, correct?"

He blinked, completely thrown by the abrupt question. "I—what?"

"Pregnancy. Beast-clan and human reproduction. Is it possible?"

"N-no, Your Highness. Different species. Biological incompatibility. It’s... it’s not possible." He was stammering, which he never did. "That’s why the system uses beast knights for education duties. No pregnancy risk, no political complications."

"Good." Elara nodded once, satisfied with the practical answer. "Then there are no additional concerns."

She started walking toward the palace exit, movements controlled and precise.

The fox knight caught up quickly, falling into step behind her. "Your Highness, are you certain you’re—"

"I’m fine." The words came out clipped. "The Emperor got what he wanted. I proved I’ll utilize imperial assets as instructed. The test is complete."

But something in her voice was wrong. Not emotional—Elara never sounded emotional—but there was an edge there, something sharp and bitter that hadn’t been present before.

The fox knight risked speaking again. "Your Highness... what you said about tradition—"

"I meant it." Elara didn’t slow down. "That entire exercise was about control. Not loyalty, not practical assessment of capability. Just the Emperor demonstrating he can make me do things I’d prefer not to do by threatening consequences."

"That’s... that’s how the empire functions, Your Highness."

"I know. That’s what makes it disgusting." She turned a corner sharply. "I don’t object to sex. I’ve had sex for business reasons, stress relief, basic physical need. That’s fine. Practical. Straightforward transaction between willing parties."

She stopped walking abruptly, and the fox knight nearly collided with her.

"But being *forced* into it—being told ’prove your loyalty by assaulting someone or be executed’—that’s not about sex. That’s about power. About breaking people until they accept that their autonomy is conditional." Her voice remained flat, but the words came faster now, sharper. "The Emperor thinks the best way to control someone is to make them compromise their stated principles through coercion. That’s not strategy. That’s just cruelty disguised as testing."

The fox knight cleared his throat carefully. "Your Highness."

Elara glanced at him, still walking.

He lowered his head in a respectful bow even while moving. "With all due respect, Your Highness, it is unwise to speak of the Emperor in such terms. If anyone overheard—"

"There’s no one here," Elara interrupted, gesturing at the relatively empty corridor they were traversing. "And I’m not saying anything objectively false about him."

The fox knight wanted to point out that she’d literally just called the Emperor’s methods disgusting and cruel, which was absolutely saying something bad about him. But when he looked at her face properly, the words died in his throat.

Dark circles shadowed her eyes—deep bruises of exhaustion that hadn’t been there this morning. A slight frown creased her forehead, not from anger but from bone-deep weariness. Her posture was still controlled, movements still precise, but there was a brittleness to it now, like something barely holding together through sheer force of will.

She looked exhausted. Drained in a way that went beyond physical tiredness.

"Your Highness," he tried again, more gently. "Perhaps we should postpone the merchant meeting. You could rest—"

"No. We’re already late. If I cancel now, they’ll interpret it as weakness or unreliability." Elara pushed through the palace gates into the city. "Move faster. The Merchant Quarter is fifteen minutes from here."

They walked in silence, the fox knight monitoring her carefully for signs of collapse that never quite came. She just kept moving forward with mechanical determination.

.

.

.

Elara returned to her quarters and then went directly to the formal receiving room—the space reserved for entertaining guests of significance.

The chamber was elegant without being ostentatious: high ceilings with ornate molding, tall windows draped in blue silk that matched her house colors, polished marble floors partially covered by an imported carpet from the eastern provinces. Crystal chandeliers cast warm light across mahogany furniture upholstered in velvet. A large oval table dominated the center, already set with fine porcelain and silver service.

Servants had prepared an elaborate spread: fresh pastries glazed with honey, sliced cold meats and cheeses arranged on silver platters, fruit tarts, small savory pies still steaming from the kitchen, and three different varieties of imported tea alongside chilled wine and flavored water. The kind of display that said *you are being received by someone of status and means.*

Elara took her seat at the head of the table, posture controlled despite the exhaustion pulling at her bones. The fox knight moved to pour tea from an ornate silver pot, then withdrew to stand behind her chair alongside another beast knight. Both positioned at attention in full household livery, silent witnesses to the proceedings.

The door opened, and this time it wasn’t just the young merchant Kael who entered.

A middle-aged man walked in first—solidly built, wearing a finely tailored merchant’s coat in dark green wool with brass buttons and a brocade waistcoat that spoke of considerable wealth. His cravat was silk, his boots polished leather, his gold pocket watch chain visible. Sharp eyes immediately assessed the room and everyone in it. This was the patriarch. Guild Master Verin himself, Kael’s father.

He stopped three paces from the table and bowed formally. "I greet the Fourth Princess. Thank you for receiving us."

Elara nodded once. "Guild Master Verin. Please, sit. Help yourself to refreshments."