Reborn as the Psycho Villainess Who Ate Her Slave Beasts' Contracts-Chapter 244 --

"No," she said. "But I want you available. In the connecting room. If I need you, the door opens."

The Third Consort nodded. "And after the meeting."

"After the meeting," Elara said, "we’ll have a different conversation about what your situation looks like going forward." She paused. "You’ve been in this palace seventeen years because of an arrangement that no longer exists. The Emperor who made that arrangement is dead. The information you were holding is no longer a secret." She looked at her. "You’re not a hostage anymore. What you are is someone who has seventeen years of palace knowledge and a demonstrated capacity for keeping difficult things intact under pressure." She paused. "That’s worth something. If you want it to be."

The Third Consort was quiet for a moment.

Something moved through her expression that was quieter than relief and more complicated than gratitude and landed somewhere between them where there wasn’t a clean word.

"I’ll be in the connecting room," she said.

She stood and went through the side door without further comment.

---

Elara spent the remaining hour working.

Not on the meeting — she had run the meeting’s possible trajectories multiple times through the night and had arrived at a range of responses for each one. More preparation would not improve the outcomes. What needed doing in the meantime was the seven remaining items on her administrative list, and she worked through four of them before Mahir knocked twice on the door frame — their signal, established without discussion, that something was about to begin.

She capped her pen.

Straightened the documents.

Stood.

Adjusted her jacket — the white suit, which had become, without deliberate decision, the thing she wore when she needed the room to understand immediately who it was dealing with.

"She’s here," Mahir said.

"Alone."

"One attendant. Stayed in the corridor." He paused. "No knight."

Elara looked at him.

No knight was a significant choice. The Even first princess went nowhere significant without her personal beast knight. Leaving him outside was a statement — ’I came without weapons’ — which was either genuine or the most sophisticated kind of weapon available.

"Send her in," Elara said.

---

The sixth consort arrived seven minutes early.

Elara noted this. Early was information. Specifically, seven minutes early to a meeting that had been arranged with twenty-four hours notice suggested either anxiety managed through punctuality, or the deliberate choice to arrive before the space was fully set, to see the room before the room was ready to be seen.

She had let her in anyway.

The sixth consort was thirty-one. Northern family, minor noble, brought into the palace eight years ago in the standard arrangement of bloodline compatibility and political convenience. She had produced one child — a son, the ninth prince, currently eleven years old and residing in the children’s quarters with his tutors. She had, in eight years, maintained the specific quality of invisibility that consorts without significant political backing learned quickly or suffered for.

She had maintained it very well.

Too well, Elara had thought, reviewing her file at the third bell this morning.

The kind of invisibility that required active maintenance looked different from the kind that happened naturally. Natural invisibility was passive — people simply didn’t look. Active invisibility left traces. Small ones. The slightly too-consistent absence from events where presence would have been noted. The correspondence patterns that showed regular contact with certain people and deliberate gaps around others. The household budget that was clean in a way that suggested cleaning rather than cleanliness.

Elara had flagged her six days ago.

Had kept the flag quiet.

Now she sat across the desk in the chair the Third Princess had occupied yesterday, hands folded in her lap, posture correct, expression arranged into the careful neutral of a woman who had spent eight years practicing it.

She was, Elara noted, not relaxed.

Not visibly anxious either.

Somewhere in between, held there by considerable effort.

"Thank you for coming," Elara said.

"Of course, Your Highness." Her voice was even. Practiced. "How may I serve the regency."

The phrasing was exactly right. Slightly formal, completely deferential, nothing in it that could be read as anything except appropriate respect.

Elara looked at her.

"I want to talk about your son," Elara said.

The sixth consort’s hands tightened in her lap. Barely. Less than a centimetre of movement in the fingers.

But real.

"The ninth prince," the sixth consort said. "Of course. Is there a concern about his education—"

"His bloodline marker was amended fourteen months ago," Elara said. "Administrative correction, filed under routine maintenance. Third shelf, general access, archive building." She paused. "I read it four days ago."

Silence.

The sixth consort’s face did not change. The hands did not move again. She had, Elara noted, very good control.

"I’m not aware of any amendment," she said carefully.

"I know," Elara said. "You weren’t supposed to be." She opened the desk drawer and removed a single document — Dimitri’s flagged copy, the amendment for the ninth prince, annotated in the margins with the cross-references to the succession magic shipment timeline. She placed it on the desk and turned it to face the sixth consort. "His marker was strengthened. Not weakened. Strengthened — which is the opposite of what was done to most of the other children in the amendment sequence." She paused. "I’ve been trying to understand why."

The sixth consort looked at the document.

Looked at it for a long time.

When she looked up, something had changed in her expression. Not collapse — nothing so dramatic. Just a very slight relaxation of the thing she’d been holding, as if some decision had been made in the silence.

"He’s not the Emperor’s son," she said.

The room was very quiet.

Elara waited.

"I mean—" The sixth consort stopped. Started again. Her voice had changed. Flatter. More real. "He is. Biologically. But his bloodline signature at birth was — wrong. Too weak. The palace physicians flagged it immediately. They said it was a deficiency, that it might affect his magical development, that he might not inherit at full capacity." She paused. "They said this in front of three witnesses and filed a report that went directly to the Empress Dowager’s office."

"And then," Elara said.

"And then someone came to me," the sixth consort said. "Eight months ago. A woman I didn’t know. She said she could fix it. That there was a way to strengthen his marker, to correct what the physicians had flagged, to make sure my son would never be dismissed or marginalised because of something he was born with." She paused. "She said it would be simple. Painless. He wouldn’t know."

"And you agreed," Elara said. 𝒇𝓻𝓮𝓮𝙬𝙚𝒃𝒏𝓸𝙫𝒆𝙡.𝓬𝓸𝒎

The sixth consort looked at the document. "He’s eleven. He’s — he’s a good child. He doesn’t understand yet what the palace is. What happens to children here who are seen as weak or insufficient." Her voice was still level but it had the particular quality of something held at the edge of its capacity. "I agreed."

"Who was the woman," Elara said.

"She didn’t give me a name. She came twice — once to explain, once to administer. She was — precise. Professional. She knew exactly what she was doing." A pause. "She had access to the children’s quarters. That level of access requires—"