Beast Gacha System: All Mine-Chapter 99: New Tricks

With the barred door hanging open, the final symbol of her captivity was gone. There was no longer a physical barrier between them.

"While we’re at it," Cecilia said, "let’s just leave this place, Gigi. Walk out with me."

Angela looked at her, a hum vibrating in her throat. "So, my dear, which is it you actually want? Me? Or a loyal alchemist?"

Cecilia didn’t hesitate. "Everything. I want all of you. My allies. My resources. My friends. You."

"Greedy," Angela teased, a fond, sharp smile touching her lips. "Just as you’ve always been. You don’t just want to save a village, you want to save the continent. You don’t just want one ally, you want an army."

Yet, even with the door wide open, an invitation to freedom hanging in the dank air, Angela’s feet remained firmly planted on the stone floor of her cell. The most powerful bars, it seemed, were not made of iron.

"Gigi," Cecilia pressed, frank. "As you said, you’ve revealed all your tricks to him. The game here is over. It’s time for a new board. A new strategy."

"You are the main reason I risked sneaking into the heart of the Iondora Empire’s most secret dungeon with two formidable kings and a dragon in tow. I didn’t come just for an alchemist. I came for my strategist."

"Wait," Stevan’s voice cut in. He rose to his feet. "You know she’s a prisoner for a reason, right? The charges against her, the manipulations, the chaos, the deaths she orchestrate—"

Cecilia turned. Her eyes, when they landed on Stevan, were not the warm sea-glass of a moment before. They were chips of winter ice.

And as she looked down at him, the gaze of the two formidable beasts and the ancient dragon slid to him in unison. Quite a wall of apex-predator attention that made the damp air feel several degrees colder.

"As long as this man’s loyalty remains firmly placed on the lap of the Empire," Angela said, her voice suddenly gentle, almost melodic, drawing Cecilia’s gaze back to her, "I am not leaving this cell, Cece."

Cecilia’s eyelids drooped low. "I know," she murmured. "This cell isn’t what holds you. It’s him." Her eyes flicked back to Stevan, and a thread of cold practicality entered her voice. "But I could also just as easily kidnap him. Take him with us. You’d have to follow, then."

"Then I would be very, very mad at you, dearest sister," Angela replied, her tone still soft, but with a core of unyielding steel.

"What if..." Cecilia offered, "...he agrees to come? Of his own free will?"

Angela shook her head, a faint smile on her lips. "Your silver tongue could probably convince a mountain to walk. You might even sway him. But it would ruin my fun."

Cecilia’s expression shifted. The ice melted, replaced by a sudden, lopsided grin. "You kinky bitch."

The imprisoned princess scoffed, a real laugh escaping her. "Look who’s talking, slut. You, with your three devoted husbands trailing behind you."

Cecilia looked at her best friend, really looked, closing the small distance the open door provided. This was still the same brilliant, chaotic girl she’d run to for advice on rare, stolen afternoons since they were children.

But time and stone had left their marks. Her hands were still smooth, but lacked the untouched, milky perfection of a pampered princess. Now, they bore the faint, telltale calluses of a life that involved more than just holding a fan or a teacup.

Her hair still held a deep, black shine, but it no longer carried the pervasive, expensive fragrance of the royal rose gardens, it smelled of dungeon stone, old paper, and her own sharp, resilient scent.

She called this her retirement.

The arrogant, formidable La Vixenette Princesse, who could bend empires with a whisper and rewrite social contracts with a smirk... reduced to a self-imposed exile in the dark.

All because she’d chosen to be someone’s woman. To trade a throne for a heart, even if that heart belonged to a man whose duty kept him on the other side of the bars.

"I will come back for you, sister," Cecilia promised, her voice firm. "I can’t drag you out under the sun, so I’ll bring the sun to you. However I can."

Angela smiled. "Don’t bother. My sun is already here."

Cecilia sighed. "The Werebear cubs... they’re thriving. They have a clan now, up in the northern taiga. You did everything you could. More than anyone else would have dared."

"I could have done better," Angela shrugged. Then she waved it away. "And you know that’s not why I’m here. The charges are just the Empire’s excuse. This is my choice."

Cecilia nodded. "I will write to you."

"Good." Angela’s expression turned serious. "And tell your husbands how to write to me, too. The day any of their letters tells me you’ve died, again, I am walking out of this place. And I will burn every last thing they hold dear to the ground."

"Even though you wanted a quiet retirement?" Cecilia teased, though her throat felt tight.

"Sis before dicks," Angela stated. She pulled Cecilia into a fierce, full-bodied embrace, no longer hindered by iron bars. Yet, tellingly, her feet remained planted firmly inside the boundary of the cell. "So you’d better not die. For their sake as much as your own."

Cecilia melted into the hug, the familiar strength and stubborn love of it a balm. A mischievous, wet chuckle escaped her. "I’m almost considering dying again, just to force you to come out and play."

After Cecilia and her entourage had retreated, the cell settled back into its familiar, fraught equilibrium. A warden and his prisoner. A common man and a princess. A pair of humans.

Angela picked up the discarded romance novel, her fingers tracing the embossed spine with a lover’s familiarity. She settled back onto her simple chair, calm as a queen on her throne, and began to read as if the last hour of emotional earthquakes had never happened.

The normalcy of it was a performance, and it made Stevan’s blood churn.

"The Werebear cubs you two spoke of," he finally broke the silence, his voice rough. "What was that about? Is there... is there anything the world has gotten completely wrong about you?"

The woman didn’t look up from her page, but a soft, derisive scoff escaped her. "The world doesn’t know the first thing about me, Stevan."

"You’ve manipulated kings and beasts," he pressed, stepping closer to the bars he just found out she never respected. "You’ve orchestrated blood feuds, turned allies into murderers of each other’s families. The official record says it was for power. For the thrill of control. But with you..."

He shook his head, his green eyes searching her profile. "Does anything ever not have a deeper reason?"