Cecilia POV:

Alright, so, recap on the current goings on. I just got finished sparring with Saran and Y’mar, so much worse than Y’sar, as they have been force feeding me every swordsmanship lesson known to man. So, after my beat down, they sent me on my way to my next class of the day, and after waiting here for about fifteen minutes, my teacher has yet to show up. This class is simply to help me form a realistic mask for the nobility and common people, since showing my real nature would make me too predictable. But I can’t make it too different, otherwise I would have no actual freedom of mobility in the court, no I need to make one that is just right.

So here I am, sitting in a chair, wearing some new clothes. A maid saw them and immediately grabbed them before running off to the seamstress and lighting them on fire, or so I am led to believe. Afterwards the seamstress got to work on making new dresses all throughout the night, apparently I have similar measurements to some of her other customers and she took the ones they didn’t like. She also made a point to declare that she would create the perfect dress to match me, apparently I’m something sculpted by the Primordial one.

Not the first time I’ve heard that phrase, but definitely the first time it was said with reverence instead of… weeeellll, let’s just say it covers the spectrum of negative reactions, a few okay ones and one or two good ones.

I don’t make friends easy, first thing that happens is, for some goddamn reason, I am surrounded by manwhores who want a bite. Once I tell them to go fuck themselves, I’m surrounded by womanwhores who keep going on and goddamn on about how terrible men are, so I tell them to go uck themselves with their huge daddy issues since they find any other prospect, besides having the man in question tied down and beaten before beginning, to be revolting. And by then, my reputation is already one of the “fuck you girl.”

So fuck me, am I right?

The sound of the door opening snaps me from my musings and I hear the squeaking and groaning of what I presume to be prosthetics. Not the first time i’ve heard the sound, probably not the last. It’s accompanied by the clacking of a cane and the clicking of a dog’s claws on the stone floor. I look towards where the sound is coming from, it being the doorway to this meeting room. It’s a small room with two padded chairs and a low table in between them, usually used for the proposing of treaties or maybe even a game of Vinik. Vinik being a boring ass game that I only know has too many goddamn rules for most people to play, simply because it makes the whole experience that much more boring.

I see Gabriel coming towards me with his OH GODDAMN THAT THING IS BIG!! I immediately reach for my sabre before feeling the need to facepalm. That same servant ran off with my sabre towards the Royal Smith, the servant who also stole my clothes. I don’t know how to feel about people taking my possessions without a question, but I decided to be patient.

Like an idiot.

I feel a tinge of fear go through me, I don’t want it to end like this. The Warg takes a stance and, before he can even growel, Gabriel jams his cane in front of it and gives a commanding look, making the thing calm down completely. I just stare at him with wide eyes, I seriously know nothing about this guy. First I thought he was some noble with a bad mouth and a poor attitude when sleep deprived, now he’s a cripple that has tamed one of the biggest damn Warg’s I’ve ever seen. Speaking of big, why is it so big?!

“Erisen Warg, that’s why he’s so big. And before you ask how I know, you're about the thousandth person to ask the question, that look is the same every time. Now then, I apologize for anything of offense I may have said during my little… delirium? I’m not of a clear head when sleep deprived, though there are those who say I’m even less so with too much sleep, for that matter. Anyways, I have already created a list of possible masks for you, Y’sar was… graphic in his report about your personality. Don’t worry, none of them are indecent. Unless you’ve an exceptionally dirty mind, in which case, pretty much anything is indecent come to think of it.” Gabriel

“A what?” Cecilia

He just smirks slightly and shakes his head while I hear him mutter something about 819. He raises his head with a pleased glint in his eye, apparently, I had asked the right question.

“Real rare type of Warg, got bred out of existence by a former King who didn’t know how else to deal with the problems these guys were giving us. Sent in a bunch of Northern She-Wolves in need of a mate and eventually the Erisen became a dying breed, as they had smaller litters and take longer to reach breeding age, plus they also take longer in their pregnancies. Nowadays, they just show up as the random offspring of Warg’s. Sad really, their wonderful creatures.” Gabriel

As he said that the Warg looked positively beaming with pride. Smart dog, this one. I return my attention to the paper in his hand. The both of us took positions opposite one another and he placed the documents before me. I take them in both hands and slowly read the list. He just jotted down a list, no fanfare or anything, which I can get behind. Paper should be saved for actually useful things, not unimportant lists that are no doubt going to be burned in an hour or two.

The first one is tyrant, not much reason to elaborate. Next is idealist, probably pass me off as an idiot with no understanding of underhanded tactics. The next after that was just seriously just written as ditz. Afterwards were a series of maybes and hell nos. Finally I come to create my final list, consisting of honourable warrior king and spy centric king.

“So, it would appear that you have made your choices. They are?” Gabriel

I return my eyes to him and take note of the fact that he detached his prosthetics and placed them off to the side of his chair. His stumps don’t look too good, what’s left of his legs, from as far as I can see, are a mass of gruesome scars that didn’t totally replace his flesh. There is a certain point at which a scar remains permanent, and in the case of missing bone, no potion in the world can replace what is lost, the exception being teeth.

I immediately draw my eyes to his and begin my explanation, that strange feeling I got the first time we got still there, but far weaker than I remember it being.

“Warrior King and Devious King, both giving me the largest range of motion regarding the nobility.” Cecilia

He nods at me before giving his own retort.

“That they do, but you must keep in mind that they also limit your freedoms regarding social change, while they do allow for drastic measures to be taken, they will also restrain you when it comes to minor adjustments.” Gabriel

I nod at him then give him my explanation.

“I will be using you for that. Well, you and the rest of the council. Expanding their powers regarding managerial purposes would be more than easy.” Cecilia

He nods and looks to be deep in thought before looking into my eyes again.

“In that case, I say you chose the Warrior King design. You will need to get heavily involved with the military, but I am already aware of your previous station in Pact. Spymaster is undoubtedly a natural at his profession and has already been training a few successors. Saran, on the other hand, is extremely capable at all levels of the military, so pushing him down a peg will be fine. You will also need to act rather brashly and keep any devious nature of yours to yourself. That fine?” Gabriel

I grin and nod, no wonder dad has him around, he’s useful, and yet again, that urge of mine starts flaring up again and I feel the urge to growl, don’t know why though. The Warg starts snaps his head up from it’s previously lazy state, he had moved to other side of Gabriel’s chair, opposite the prosthetics. Gabriel notices the abrupt change in the Warg’s state and looks at him questioningly.

“What is it Vanar? The last time I saw you like that you were in the middle of rutt-..!” Gabriel

He then snaps his head toward me with a complicated expression.

“Um, milady, do you know if your mother had any Primal blood in her veins?” Gabriel

Primal blood? I know what it is, it’s a type of Beast-Kin that’s highly associated with holding seats of power in their hierarchy. Primal Beast-Kin are highly in tune with the natural states of their respective beasts instincts. Primal Cat-Kin and Dog-Kin have mating seasons in early autumn for insta--

Realization hits me like a stampeding Erkin, hopped up on Orc Tonic. Then my face flushes every shade of red short of burgundy and immediately I bolt off towards my room.

Why the hell did I not check the GODDAMN JOURNAL?!!

It sounds like Gabriel tries to say something to me, but I could care less. What I need to worry about right now is one goddamn thing.

Am I going to turn horny for the next month?

***********************

Gabriel POV:

I can’t help but flounder for an instant, then realise the implications of what just happened. If she doesn’t go into a mating frenzy with someone to stop the heat, there is the chance that a Beast-Kin noble discovers her state and challenges her to a mating duel, it could mean everything the King did was for naught. Mating duels are held when a Beast-Kin experiences a heat and has no male to mate with, which is usually done between separate breeds as they see such relations as nothing more than practice for their real marriage. But when regarding non-Beast-Kin, such rules do not apply.

The technicality of her mixed race heritage allows for some tenuous navigating and forcing her into a marriage she won’t want a part of. Gotta make a note of dealing with those technicalities in the law, having a mixed race monarch’ll make it easier.

As I reach for my prosthetics, I freeze as a new thought occurs to me.

Why were her instincts telling her I was mating potential?

Questions for later.

Much later.

***************************

Bart POV:

I can’t help but be real fidgety after what just happened. The things that lady was talking about are no fucking laughing matter. I know for a fact I’m not crazy, and I’m not either. Mental jokes aside, I run through over and over what just happened, but all I can come up with is that I seriously, just met a goddess. I don’t know which one, she had the whole sun thing going on, but the sun god was male, not female. She also, and call me crazy if you want, started sounding younger and younger as time went on, so she wasn’t an old hag.

Shawn notices my fidgeting, and place a hand on my shoulder, the concern still evident on his face. Thankfully none of the other three passengers are paying attention to us, they look to be deep in thought over how to get accepted as servants. He leans over and whispered into my ear.

“Bro, you okay? You’re more fidgety than you were around Selene when she was in heat.” Shawn

Selene was a rather beautiful half breed between a Cat-Kin and a Wolf-Kin, and I always had a thing for her, according to my other brother Mal, she felt the same. She got adopted by a courtier and turned into a scribe, though I haven’t heard from her since the courtier went off towards the Urus duchy, one of the three duchies of Eria. Something felt off about the whole situation, but I could never quite place what, and since no one felt the same, chocked it up to the occasional bout of Paranoia. I always stole extra for her so that she wouldn’t have to work the Flower District, be a damn crime for someone as good natured as her to have to work that place, especially if a Cat-Kin caught sight of her.

There are reasons the females heal fast.

“Don’t worry, thought I saw something. Real scary something.” Bart

He quirked his head at that.

“Like what?” Shawn

I give him a disarming grin and pull a little joke out of my ass to get him to stop worrying. If he keeps going he might find out I’m lyin’.

“Naked Mole-Kin.” Bart

He just shakes his head at me.

“Ass.” Shawn

At that we let out a quick laugh. The laugh seems to ease the tension with not just us, but the entire cart. Small bouts of chatter come from the other three pairs of individuals, the majority of them being pure bloods, the term referring to pure blooded Erians. It isn’t exactly surprising, while our nation is flooded with every kind of race known to Kin, the purebloods prefer our ancient homes and the like while most other races congregate in mostly separate communities. The capital is actually the biggest meshing of races in most of Eria, most of the world actually. Only place where half-breeds are commonplace, and even more so not treated like outcasts. Aside from the pact, that is.

My brother and I start to mindlessly chatter, making jokes and the like till most everyone in the cart are in a single discussion of jokes and the like. However, I can’t help but feel a tinge of nervousness.

Almost like someone is watching.

Almost.