Reborn as the Psycho Villainess Who Ate Her Slave Beasts' Contracts-Chapter 26 --

By evening, she was standing at the window, reviewing her notes one final time as twilight settled over the courtyard.

The sound came without warning—a sharp, brutal ’crack’ that split the quiet like a bone breaking.

Outside her door, the beast knight on duty jerked to attention. He knocked hard. "Your Highness? Are you all right? Your Highness?"

Silence.

He knocked again, louder, tail bristling with alarm. "Your Highness, may we come in?"

No response. No footsteps. No movement at all.

He exchanged a glance with his partner, then pushed the door open slowly. "We apologize, Your Highness—"

Both knights stopped dead.

Elara lay crumpled on the floor in front of the window, body twisted awkwardly, right arm pinned beneath her. Glass shards glittered across the carpet like frozen rain. One section of the tall window was shattered, a clean hole punched through the center as if something small and impossibly fast had torn straight through.

They rushed to her side. One checked her pulse—faint but steady. The other carefully examined her shoulder: a small, deep puncture wound, blood seeping slowly through torn silk. The impact had knocked her completely unconscious.

"Whatever hit her came through the window at full speed," one muttered, staring at the shattered pane.

"Get the physician," the fox-eared knight snapped. "Now."

’’’

Seven hours later, Elara woke to fire.

Pain radiated from her right shoulder in waves, deep and throbbing, like someone had driven a spike into the joint and left it there. She tried to sit up and immediately regretted it. Her fingers worked—she could flex them—and her elbow bent stiffly. But the shoulder itself refused to cooperate. Any attempt to move it sent white-hot agony down her side.

A thick bandage wrapped the wound. Someone had changed her into a sleeping gown and tucked her under light blankets. The angle of sunlight through the window told her it was no longer evening.

"You’re awake, Your Highness."

The physician stood nearby, relief flooding his face. "You were unconscious for seven hours. The injury is a localized puncture wound—high velocity impact. Our assessment is that a rock struck you."

Elara touched the bandage carefully. "A rock."

"Yes, Your Highness. Roughly fist-sized. It shattered the windowpane before striking you. No metal fragments, no blade marks, no other implements. Just... force."

A rock. No weapon. No visible projectile.

Which meant magic.

Memory returned in fragments. She had been standing at the window, reviewing deployment notes. Then movement below caught her eye—a figure in red silk standing alone in the courtyard, looking directly up at her window.

Eleana.

Their eyes met across the distance. Eleana’s lips curved into a slow, deliberate smile—the kind that promised consequences. Her mouth moved, forming silent words. Then something invisible slammed through the glass and into Elara’s body. Pain. Darkness. Nothing.

"The Empress has already issued punishment," the physician added quietly. "A beast guard on perimeter duty was flogged publicly for failing to detect the threat."

Of course. Not Eleana. Not anyone connected to her. Just a convenient scapegoat.

By now, rumors would be spreading: ’The Fourth Princess is so weak a child’s rock knocked her out.’ ’She fainted from broken glass.’ ’Beast knights can’t even protect her from pebbles.’

Elara lay still, listening to her own breathing. The pain in her shoulder anchored her. The memory of Eleana’s smile burned hotter.

She had always lived by one rule: if you don’t touch me, I won’t touch you. She could ignore whispers, petty insults, even calculated slights—as long as nobody crossed the line. But if someone tried to break her, to cripple her, to end her?

Then she didn’t just retaliate. She dismantled everything they’d built.

Before this, she’d planned to wait. Rebuild slowly. Pick her battles carefully. Decide later whether Eleana was worth the effort.

Eleana had just made that decision for her.

"Send Lisa when she arrives," Elara said, voice steady despite the pain. "And call the fox-eared knight captain. I want a full report on who was in the courtyard when the attack occurred. Every name. Every position. Every witness."

The physician bowed. "Yes, Your Highness."

As the door closed, Elara flexed her good hand, testing her grip. The movement tugged at her shoulder, pain flaring bright, but she didn’t flinch.

And of course, the Emperor did punish someone.

Just not Eleana.

Not a single person connected to her was questioned.

Instead, the blame was placed neatly elsewhere—on a guard.

A beast guard.

His crime? Failing to "properly protect" the princess.

Elara lay there, listening, understanding everything without needing it explained. The empire had spoken. Once again, beast blood was cheaper than royal comfort.

Something inside her went utterly still.

This was it.

This was the moment her revenge truly began.

Elara had always lived by a simple rule—almost a courtesy.

If you do not touch me, I will not touch you.

She was patient. Calculating. Willing to coexist.

But if someone crossed that line...

She would not stop at them.

She would tear through their roots. Their name. Their family.

And that was exactly what Eleana had done.

Just hours ago, Elara had considered waiting. Observing. Deciding whether retaliation was worth the consequences.

But Eleana had already made the choice for her.

She had thrown the first stone.

So now—

How could Elara possibly step back?

.....

After Lisa and the physician left, the room fell silent.

Elara sat on the edge of her bed, gaze moving methodically from the bandaged shoulder to the cloth-covered window where the attack had originated. No anger. No fear. Just data points clicking into place.

There was an old saying about royal gardens and buried bodies. In this world, it wasn’t metaphor—it was operational procedure.

The beastman guard would be executed. That much was certain. The Empressneeded a scapegoat, the incident needed closure, and a lowborn beast knight was expendable.

Elara ran the calculation: getting involved was inefficient. Her shoulder was injured, her staff skeleton-thin, and she’d just secured imperial permission to rebuild her administrative team. Interfering in a military execution would draw attention, burn political capital, and create complications she didn’t need.

But there was a second calculation.

That guard had been assigned to ’her’ household. If she allowed him to be executed without intervention, every other potential ally—servant, knight, clerk—would update their risk assessment accordingly. ’The Fourth Princess does not protect her people. Serving her offers no security advantage.’

That reputation would cost her more in the long term than one messy rescue operation.

Decision made.

"Is anyone out there?" she called, voice flat.

"Yes, Your Highness."

"Enter."

Two beast knights stepped inside—wolf-eared, younger than the usual rotation. Not the fox knight who’d been on duty. Not anyone she recognized from her limited staff pool.

Elara’s eyes tracked them with clinical precision. "Who was arrested?"

They lowered their heads. Before either could answer, she narrowed the variables. "Is it the fox knight stationed here during the attack?"

"Yes, Your Highness."

Elara stood, moving carefully to avoid unnecessary pain spikes that would slow her down. "Take me to him."

One knight’s ears flattened in obvious distress. "Your Highness, he’s in the beast prison—"

"Location."

"The training ground you visited yesterday. Lower level. He’s scheduled for execution at dawn tomorrow."