Nobody had told her that requesting a male from another territory apparently ca with additional terms and conditions.
Nobody had ntioned mates.
Nobody had ntioned bonding.
Nobody had ntioned the Beast Goddess getting involved.
In fact, nobody had ntioned anything at all. And by "nobody," she ant old Mirabelle’s mories, which had apparently been treacherously flawed and full of knowledge gaps.
’Hold on.’
Mirabelle’s eyes slowly widened.
’Did I accidentally propose?’
She had asked to take Lucien to Luchsenstein.
She had not asked for a husband.
Those were two completely different requests.
Weren’t they?
A headache was starting to form behind her eyes.
Shit.
She didn’t turn toward the panther and the hyena, but she already knew they weren’t going to like this.
Yet there was nothing she could say now.
In front of her stood Lucien, his eyes shining with hope, excitent, and pure bliss.
Beside him stood the Duchess of Rotwald, whose expression contained just as much emotion.
And behind them stood Lysandra, her entire body trembling with excitent while small, high-pitched squeaking noises escaped her mouth.
’If I backpedal now, they’ll probably start a war with Luchsenstein.’
Mirabelle had thought this through so carefully...
After everything that had happened with Lucien, she knew she couldn’t simply reject him.
And honestly...
there was sothing between them.
However, she wasn’t ready to simply accept him as a mate.
She needed ti.
Ti to get to know him better.
Ti to see how the males interacted with each other.
Ti to figure all of that out back ho in Luchsenstein.
But she hadn’t wanted to invite Lucien directly.
That sounded far too serious.
Far too binding.
So the overly clever lynx female had co up with what she thought was the perfect solution:
If the Duchess officially sent Lucien to her territory, then he would technically be an envoy.
Similar to Silas and Kaelith.
That sounded harmless.
Well...
That had gone spectacularly wrong.
Sohow she probably should have phrased that more carefully.
But judging by the way the Duchess’ eyes had flashed, Mirabelle was fairly certain the fox female had deliberately misunderstood her.
And imdiately seized the opportunity to lock the situation in place.
Apparently the stereotype about cunning foxes was true here as well.
Lucien noticed that Mirabelle seed sowhat dazed.
He knew perfectly well that her request had not ant she was accepting him as a mate.
By now, he understood her well enough to know that.
However, his mother had skillfully maneuvered the situation into a position where Mirabelle would now find it very difficult to back out.
And he was grateful for it.
Of course, he had no intention of forcing the lynx female into anything.
But at the sa ti, he suspected she would always choose the easier escape route over the more difficult confrontation.
Therefore, he had absolutely no intention of telling her that.
She could keep believing she was now stuck with him.
He certainly wasn’t going to correct her.
Besides...
he fully intended to take advantage of the situation.
Who knew?
Maybe her feelings for him would grow if they simply spent enough ti together.
And the fact that she wanted him to co with her at all had to an sothing.
Didn’t it?
Surely it did.
...Right?
Right???
Mirabelle would have loved to slowly drag a hand down her face, pinch the bridge of her nose, and rub the back of her neck.
The sort of thing one did when standing in front of an unavoidable disaster.
Unfortunately, she couldn’t.
Not in front of all these people.
Not in front of the Duchess.
Not in front of Lucien.
And especially not in front of the panther and the hyena.
The two of them would tear Lucien apart in midair if they suspected for even a second that she wasn’t entirely thrilled about the fox male.
Having less competition would only be one of their justifications.
So she had no choice but to drag Lucien along behind her and return to a grim-looking panther and a hyena whose grin seed ever so slightly crooked.
Even so, they made room for Lucien between them.
Only barely.
Just enough for the fox to squeeze into the space.
His shoulders nearly brushed theirs.
Any other male would have curled inward and tried to make himself smaller.
Not Lucien.
The fox’s soul was currently so far into seventh heaven that it completely failed to notice what was happening to the rest of his body.
The Duchess, as though she hadn’t just placed a pair of handcuffs disguised as a blessing from the Beast Goddess around Mirabelle’s wrists, enthusiastically turned back toward the assembled females.
"Now our final evening together has arrived.
It has been wonderful having so many young Beastwon here and allowing your energy to bring life to this castle.
I will be sad to see you leave tomorrow.
I am certain that over these past days, deep friendships — and perhaps even deeper partnerships — have been ford."
A knowing smile touched her lips.
"So please celebrate one last ti.
Eat. Drink. Dance."
Cheers erupted throughout the ballroom.
The musicians, who had clearly been waiting for exactly that signal, imdiately began to play.
A warm, harmonious dance lody filled the hall. Lantern light shimred across colorful gowns while laughter rose into the air. The giant leaves overhead rustled softly in the evening breeze, and beyond the dance floor, blue glowing insects drifted unimpressed by the events between the beastfolk.
For one brief mont, the entire ballroom seed wrapped in warmth, music, and celebration.
Mirabelle, however, felt like she was watching the carefully planned future she’d built over the past few days collapse in real ti.
What does a woman do when she’s so stressed that she can’t form a single coherent thought?
Correct.
She drinks.
And what does a smart woman do when she’s so stressed that she can’t form a single coherent thought?
Correct.
She eats sothing before the alcohol.
And that was exactly what occupied Mirabelle at this mont.
She had deposited her three males near the buffet and retreated into the won’s section behind a maze of screens and curtains.
In front of her stood three large plates piled high with every delicious thing she had managed to get her hands on.
There were honey-glazed fruits.
Roasted vegetables covered in fragrant spices.
A lot of at.
Sweet creams.
And several things she couldn’t identify but had decided to trust anyway.
As for the wine...
Instead of allowing the servant to pour her a glass, Mirabelle had simply taken the entire carafe from the bewildered male.
The poor servant had stood frozen for several heartbeats while she walked away with it.
Now the carafe sat beside her like an old friend offering emotional support.
Which was fortunate.
Because Mirabelle desperately needed emotional support.
She had just accidentally acquired a fox.
And that was before accounting for the panther and the hyena.
The evening breeze drifted through the curtains, carrying distant music, laughter, and the scent of flowers from the ballroom beyond.
For a few precious monts, Mirabelle managed to convince herself that if she focused hard enough on food, perhaps reality would leave her alone.
It did not.
Because that was precisely when her new friends found her.
Elowen.
Nyria.
Caelia.
And Lysandra.
It seed the universe had taken one look at her emotional support wine carafe and decided professional intervention was necessary. So it sent her real friends instead.
The four females stared at the mountain of food.
Then at the carafe.
Then at Mirabelle.
Elowen was the first to recover.
"I never would have guessed you’d ask for Lucien as mate."
Mirabelle groaned and dropped her forehead onto one of her folded arms.
"Neither would I."
Nyria blinked.
"That doesn’t sound like soone who just got what she wanted."
Caelia nodded slowly.
"You look more distressed than happy."
That stung a bit. Mirabelle lifted her head.
"Because I only wanted to take him back to Luchsenstein."
Four confused faces stared back at her.
She sighed.
Then she explained.
The envoy idea.
The misunderstanding.
The Duchess.
The blessing.
The public announcent.
The increasingly horrifying realization that everyone except her had apparently understood what her request ant.
By the ti she finished, Nyria was trying very hard not to laugh.
"To be fair," the owl female said, "asking a Duchess if you can take her son ho does sound a little suspicious."
"Very suspicious," Caelia agreed.
Elowen smiled sympathetically.
"At least nobody can accuse you of being uncreative woth your wish."
Mirabelle let out a long suffering groan.
"You asked for the most handso fox in Rotwald in front of an entire ballroom."
"I asked for a diplomatic arrangent!"
Nyria laughed: "Sure you did."
Elowen reached over and patted Mirabelle’s arm.
"You don’t have to decide anything tonight."
Caelia nodded while eating one of Mirabelle’s honey-glazed fruits.
"Exactly. Just because he’s coming with you doesn’t an you suddenly have to know how you feel."
"Take your ti," Nyria added. "Any male worth keeping can survive a little uncertainty."
Hearing this Mirabelle felt so of the tension leave her shoulders.
Then Lysandra spoke.
Until now she had remained unusually quiet.
Her gaze drifted toward the buffet where Lucien was undoubtedly still floating several feet above the ground.
"Regardless of what you’re planning to do with him...", A small smile appeared on her lips, "Thank you for taking him with you."
Mirabelle blinked.
Lysandra shrugged.
"I was starting to worry he’d never find a female capable of handling him."
"Oh, and how I’ll handle him," Mirabelle muttered under her breath while taking a large sip from the wine carafe.
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