Reborn as the Psycho Villainess Who Ate Her Slave Beasts' Contracts-Chapter 107 - -

"Even though that would be treason?"

"I’ve been committing treason for forty years. At this point, it’s just a matter of scale."

Elara nodded slowly. "Good. I prefer allies who are willing to commit completely when necessary."

"You’re not worried I might be too dangerous to ally with?"

"Dangerous allies are more useful than safe ones. As long as our interests align." She walked toward the archive exit. "We should both get rest before tomorrow. The succession dinner will be complicated enough without fatigue affecting our performance."

"Agreed." Duke Romian followed her out. "Elara?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you. For not being... normal. About this."

"You’re welcome. Though I don’t know what normal people would do in this situation, so I can’t compare."

"They’d be horrified. Angry. Possibly attempt to use the information against me."

"That seems inefficient."

"It is. Which is why I’m glad I’m marrying you instead of them."

They walked through the quiet palace corridors. At the intersection where their paths diverged, Duke Romian stopped.

"Tomorrow," he said. "Whatever happens at the dinner, we face it together. Understood?"

"Understood."

"Good luck, Princess."

"Luck is unreliable. I prefer preparation."

He smiled. "Then prepare well."

They separated. Elara returned to her residence, her mind already running through tomorrow’s scenarios with updated information.

Duke Romian had secrets. Had been betraying the Emperor for forty years. Had family hidden away that he’d burn the empire to protect.

That made him more dangerous than she’d initially calculated.

But also more valuable.

Because someone willing to burn the empire for family would certainly be willing to destroy her enemies for his wife.

Efficient.

Elara reached her chambers and found the fox knight waiting.

"Your Highness. Everything is prepared for tomorrow. Four knights inside the dining hall, six positioned outside. Emergency escape routes mapped. Defensive protocols established."

"Good." She walked past him toward her bedroom. "Get rest. Tomorrow will be long."

"Your Highness... are you nervous? About the dinner?"

Elara paused. "Define nervous."

"Worried. Anxious. Afraid something will go wrong."

She considered. "I’m aware that probability of assassination attempt is very high. I’m aware that failure means death. But those are just facts requiring response, not triggers for emotional distress."

"So... no. You’re not nervous."

"Correct. Are you?"

The fox knight’s ears flattened. "Terrified, Your Highness. I’m terrified one of those assassins will succeed and we’ll lose you."

"Interesting. Why does that terrify you?"

"Because you’re the first person who ever treated us like we mattered. And if you die, we’ll go back to being property instead of people."

Elara processed that. "Even if I die, the arrangements I’ve made protect you. Duke Romian has agreed to extend military protection to my household staff for minimum two years. You won’t be abandoned."

"It’s not about practical protection, Your Highness. It’s about..." He struggled with words. "It’s about having someone who sees us. Really sees us. Not just as tools or weapons but as... people."

"I see you as functional assets that happen to be sentient. Is that the same thing?"

The fox knight smiled despite his fear. "Close enough, Your Highness. Close enough."

"Then I’ll try not to die tomorrow. For practical reasons and for your emotional wellbeing."

"Thank you, Your Highness."

He left.

Elara prepared for bed, going through her nightly routine with mechanical precision.

Tomorrow was the succession dinner.

The Emperor’s final test. 𝘧𝑟𝑒𝑒𝘸𝘦𝘣𝑛𝑜𝘷𝑒𝓁.𝘤𝘰𝓂

Ten thousand gold bounty.

Professional assassins.

All her sisters gathered in one room.

Duke Romian publicly declaring their engagement.

Multiple variables. High risk. Binary outcome—survival or death.

She should probably feel something about that. Fear, maybe. Excitement. Determination.

But there was only the familiar emptiness where emotions should be, and the cold logical assessment of scenarios and probabilities.

Survive: advance in succession battle, gain Duke Romian’s protection, potentially discover more about the Emperor’s plans.

Die: all preparations wasted, Port Crestfall operations continue without her, beast knights transfer to Duke Romian’s command, Helena remains hidden.

Survival was obviously preferable.

So she’d execute her defensive strategy with maximum efficiency and see what happened.

Elara lay down, closed her eyes, and went to sleep.

Tomorrow would come regardless of whether she worried about it.

Might as well be rested.

# Scene 10: The Succession Dinner - Arrival

The day of the succession dinner arrived with cold, gray skies that threatened rain.

Elara stood in her chambers, looking at the formal attire her servants had prepared. Not the elaborate gowns her sisters would wear—she’d rejected those immediately. Instead, the tailors had created something that met the technical requirements of "formal court attire" while maintaining her preferred aesthetic.

White suit jacket, structured and sharp, with gold threading along the lapels and cuffs. White trousers, perfectly tailored. A white silk shirt underneath, high-collared and elegant. The butterfly pin—her signature—positioned precisely on the left lapel.

Her hair had been styled—still short, still practical, but arranged with subtle gold pins that caught the light.

She looked like she was dressed for a corporate takeover, not a royal dinner.

Perfect.

"Your Highness," Lisa said quietly, helping her with the final adjustments. "You look... formidable."

"That’s the intention." Elara checked her reflection one last time. "Is the defensive equipment in place?"

"Yes, Your Highness. Thin chain mail under the shirt—won’t be visible but will stop most blade attacks. Poison detection charm on your bracelet—will glow if any toxin comes within arm’s reach. Emergency signal crystal in your jacket pocket—one pulse and all the beast knights will converge on your position."

"Good." Elara turned away from the mirror. "And Fifth Princess?"

"Still secured. She’s been asking to speak with you."

"After the dinner. If I survive." Elara walked toward the door. "Where’s the fox knight?"

"Waiting outside with your escort, Your Highness."

Elara stepped into the corridor. Ten beast knights stood in formation—four who would enter the dining hall with her, six who would position outside. All of them wore their formal red uniforms, polished to perfection.

The fox knight stepped forward and bowed. "Your Highness. You look..."

"Prepared?"

"I was going to say powerful. But prepared works too." He straightened. "Duke Romian sent word. He’s waiting at the main dining hall entrance as planned."

"Then we shouldn’t keep him waiting."

The procession moved through the palace corridors. Other nobles and servants stopped to stare as they passed. Whispers followed in their wake.

"—that’s the Fourth Princess—"

"—heard she’s marrying Duke Romian—"

"—has to be a rumor, she’s so young—"

"—survived three assassination attempts this week—"

"—wearing a suit to a formal dinner, how inappropriate—"

Elara ignored all of it. Let them whisper. Let them judge. Their opinions were irrelevant to survival.

They reached the grand staircase leading to the imperial dining hall. At the bottom, Duke Romian waited.

He wore full military dress uniform—dark blue with gold insignia, medals displayed across his chest, his silver-white hair perfectly groomed. He looked every inch the decorated war hero.

When he saw Elara descending the stairs, he smiled slightly.

"Princess," he said, offering his arm. "You look appropriately intimidating."

"That was the goal." She took his arm. "Are you ready for this?"

"I’ve survived forty years of imperial politics and three major wars. I think I can handle a dinner party." His voice dropped. "Though I won’t pretend this isn’t dangerous."

"Acknowledged." They started walking toward the dining hall entrance together. "Have you identified any obvious threats?"

"At least two people I recognize from intelligence reports as known contractors. They’re attending as servants or minor nobles—easy to blend in. There are probably more I didn’t spot."