Reborn as the Psycho Villainess Who Ate Her Slave Beasts' Contracts-Chapter 216 --

"He was hurt," it said. "I told you he was hurt. And he’s standing out there looking like the sun came out."

"Apparently both things were true at different points," Elara said, dipping her pen.

"Doesn’t that mean—"

"It means beast physiology responds to certain stimuli differently than human physiology," Elara said. "Noted. Incorporated into future protocol parameters. Now stop interrupting."

The System went quiet. But it kept watching her with an expression she had also catalogued and never found a satisfying label for—something between concern and knowing and something warmer that made her faintly uncomfortable in ways she couldn’t precisely locate.

***

Demorti arrived an hour later for the morning administrative briefing, armload of documents as always, bow as always, sharp eyes cataloguing her condition as always.

The sharp eyes lingered slightly longer than usual.

"Your Highness," he said carefully. "Perhaps we could—"

"We’ll proceed," Elara said. "Sit."

He sat. Arranged documents. But she caught the way his gaze measured her—the shadows under her eyes, the deliberateness of her movements, the slight set to her jaw that appeared when she was managing pain and not quite succeeding in fully concealing it.

"Several matters," he began. "First, Minister Garen’s preliminary regency framework drafts are ready for review. He requests feedback within the week."

"Send them to my private study. I’ll review tonight."

"Second, Lady Revine’s faction has submitted a formal council complaint regarding the trade inspection protocols. Economic damage claims, emergency exemption request."

"Denied," Elara said. "Draft a response citing the active investigation into delivery vectors used in the assassination attempt on my life. Anyone with clean supply chains has nothing to fear from inspection. That’s the official position."

Demorti made the note. "Third matter requires some delicacy, Your Highness." He paused with the specific pause of a man choosing every word before releasing it. "There are rumors circulating through the palace."

Elara’s pen continued moving. "Specify."

"Your Highness’s three-day absence from public duty has generated speculation. Multiple explanations are circulating simultaneously. Some believe the poison has entered a more severe phase. Some believe there was an undisclosed assassination attempt. Some believe—" another careful pause, "—the absence was of a personal nature and are constructing theories about Your Highness’s relationship with the Beast Knight corps."

Silence.

The pen stopped.

The System, which had been in a sulk on the desk corner, snapped upright.

"What specific theories," Elara said.

"That Your Highness has taken one or more knights as personal companions beyond standard service parameters," Demorti said, maintaining perfect professional neutrality. "The source vectors are multiple—servants who noted extended privacy protocols, guards who observed altered rotation schedules, physical evidence noted during chamber cleaning." He stopped. "I have a list of confirmed rumor origins if Your Highness wants it."

"Later." Elara’s pen resumed. "Political impact assessment."

Demorti’s eyes moved to her briefly with that particular look—the one where he’d expected something other than immediate damage control calculus—then returned to his notes. "Mixed. Progressive council members and military-aligned nobles would view Beast Knight personal loyalty to the regent as a stabilizing indicator. Traditional factions—Duke Harren’s coalition, the First Empress’s remaining supporters, the religious council—would weaponize it as evidence of moral unsuitability. Lady Revine would use it in combination with her existing trade complaint to build a broader challenge to regency authority."

"Anticipated," Elara said.

Demorti looked up. "Your Highness anticipated this specific development?"

"When I established the protocols, narrative management was part of the planning. I simply didn’t expect it to break this quickly." She set down the pen. "Prepare a controlled disclosure package. Medical framing—not personal scandal, but documented medical necessity during treatment of an assassination-related condition. Include Cullens’ clinical notes on magical overflow risks. Include the consent contracts—redacted to protect personal details, but with signatures and witness confirmation visible. Frame it as a regent managing an extraordinary medical situation with characteristic thoroughness and appropriate documentation."

Demorti stared at her for a moment that was exactly one beat longer than professional neutrality required. "Your Highness wants to voluntarily disclose this."

"I want to control when, how, and to whom it’s disclosed," Elara said. "There’s a difference. If Harren’s faction breaks this story, they control the framing and I respond to accusations. If I release it first with clinical context and full documentation, I establish the framing and they respond to established facts."

"That’s—" Demorti stopped. Started again. "That’s a significant gamble, Your Highness."

"It’s a calculated probability," Elara said. "Bring me the public response metrics from the security restructuring announcement. Same methodology—lead with necessity, support with data, preempt objections by naming them first."

Demorti wrote rapidly. "The council will want assurances regarding Your Highness’s impartiality in governance."

"Prepare voluntary testimony from the involved knights confirming consent and absence of coercion. Cullens provides medical necessity certification. Three independent corroborating sources. That’s narrative stability." She picked up the pen again. "Harbor merchant surveillance update?"

Another slightly-longer-than-professional-pause.

Then Demorti rallied completely and continued. "Contact made with a second individual three days ago. Our observer tracked the contact to a vessel docked in the lower commercial harbor—a trading ship registered out of the Khaviran border provinces. We’re currently cross-referencing the cargo manifest against—"

They worked for two hours.

By the end, Elara’s back was sending increasingly loud complaints through her nervous system, her hand had developed a slight tremor she was suppressing through grip adjustment, and Demorti had quietly ensured her tea cup was never empty through a system of subtle signals to the outer office she hadn’t bothered to identify the mechanism of.

Competent. She approved.

When he finally rose to leave, he paused at the door. "Your Highness."

"Yes."

"The Beast Knights." A careful beat. "They’ve been different since the three days. All of them. Not just Mahir. Quieter in a productive way. More focused. The kind of settled that usually takes years of service to develop." He seemed to be examining the doorframe as he spoke. "Sir Ken in particular was stationed in the corridor outside Your Highness’s chambers for the full three days. His rotation breaks, his meal times—he had junior knights bring food to him in the corridor. He didn’t leave the floor."

He bowed and left without waiting for her response.

The System materialized at eye level. "He stood there for three days," it said softly. "Just waiting."

"I know," Elara said.

"Without any order to do so."

"I know."

"That means—"

"I know what it means," Elara said, voice going flat. "It’s not currently a priority."

"Host—"

"I have a forum to prepare for in two hours," she said, turning to the window. "Drop it."

The System dropped it.

But it didn’t drop the expression.

***

At midday, her spine insisted on movement.

Elara rose from the desk and walked a slow circuit of the office—not because she wanted to, but because the alternative was letting her body seize up completely, and a regent who couldn’t stand straight projected weakness she currently could not afford.

Mahir opened the door before she reached it.

Not a response to a bell or a knock. He’d heard her footstep pattern shift and anticipated the need with the precision of someone who had spent months cataloguing her movements at a granular level.

She looked at him.

He looked back—composed, bright-eyed, every detail of his presentation immaculate.

"Walk with me," she said.