It had been exactly one week since I arrived at the capital. I spent one week pretending to be civil, enduring too many nobles' fake smiles, and trying not to accidentally—or intentionally—torch anyone. Honestly, it was exhausting.
And for the past four nights, Apricot had made a nest out of my fur.
She never asked outright at first. She just showed up with a haunted look in her eyes, holding a blanket too tightly and appearing smaller than she actually was. But now she didn't even pretend it was temporary. She just climbed under my tail like it was a given.
At this point, I didn't even flinch anymore when she pressed her back into my ribs and muttered, "Goodnight, Kitsu," before drifting off. I didn't mind. She didn't move much in her sleep, and she always smelled faintly of wild berries and soap.
But while she found comfort with me, she sure as hell wasn't finding peace with everyone else.
Namely Kayda.
It had been two days since I realized they didn't just have awkward tension—they were actively avoiding eye contact like two rival cats stuck in the same room. Kayda didn't even try to hide the disdain in her stare, while Apricot was clearly trying to understand what she had done to make Kayda dislike her so intensely.
I could see it in the way she studied Kayda's posture, the slight frown on her lips when Kayda walked away mid-conversation. It was subtle, but it was there.
Still, not my problem.
They were both old enough to have a conversation—or to throw hands; I didn't care which.
I wasn't going to mediate.
Not unless one of them set the other on fire. Then, maybe.
[Training Grounds—Early Morning]
Today, however, was about something else entirely.
The end of my so-called "vacation."
The mist still clung low to the ground as I walked into the wide stone training circle, boots crunching softly over dew-covered gravel. The air was cold, the kind of crisp that made your lungs sting a little with each breath. Perfect training weather.
I wore my black practice outfit—a loose-sleeved top, binding wraps at the elbows, and pants tight enough not to snag but loose enough to move in. My tail flicked idly behind me as I bounced on my heels, stretching each leg in slow rhythm. I could already feel the mana in my blood beginning to wake up.
The sky was only just starting to shift into that golden hue of dawn.
I was ready.
So where the hell was Mom?
Just as I was starting to think I'd been pranked, the door creaked open and Stacy stepped into the training ground.
And my jaw dropped.
She wasn't in armor.
She wasn't even dressed.
She was wearing soft lavender pajama pants and a ridiculously oversized white shirt that read "I CAST FIREBALLS BEFORE BREAKFAST." Her hair was still in a messy bun, two strands sticking out like devil horns. She had fluffy slippers on. Fluffy. With little fox ears stitched onto the top.
In one hand was a coffee mug the size of a small cauldron. It had a crack down the side and the words "#1 WAR MOM" written in silver ink.
She took a long sip. Sighed. They looked at me like I was the strange one.
"…You're not serious," I said, voice flat.
"We're not training today," she said, sounding far too smug about it.
I just stared.
"Why?"
"You have another engagement later."
"I woke up at five in the morning for this," I growled, pacing toward her. "I skipped breakfast. I skipped my tea. My muscles are primed. My nerves are vibrating. I am ready to suffer—and you're telling me I have the day off?"
"Technically yes, but also no," she said calmly, taking another sip. "And before you ask—yes, there's still something important we need to discuss."
"Unless it's a full training simulation or an enemy ambush, I would rather not hear it."
"It's about Hugo."
I stopped mid-step.
My entire body tensed. Tails froze mid-sway. I turned to face her.
"…When do I kill him?"
Stacy snorted into her mug. "No."
"I already have two dozen ideas involving boiling oil and reverse healing spells."
"I said no."
"Coward."
She ignored that and gestured toward the bench with a tilt of her mug. "Sit. This one's a bit long."
Grumbling under my breath, I dropped onto the bench. It creaked under me, and I crossed my arms with a scowl.
"Fine. What's the mutt done now?"
She walked over, her slippers making that shlup-shlup noise as she moved, and she leaned against the training ring's outer column. The morning light hit her from the side, casting her shadow long across the tiles.
"He's planning something at the Queen's banquet."
I arched an eyebrow. "You mean the one I'm being forced to go to?"
"Yes. It's the Queen's birthday celebration. Also your noble debut."
"…My what?"
"Your grand entrance into noble society," she said, waving her mug in the air like it was a wand. "Normally done at age twelve. You missed yours. So now the king's bundling it into the Academy Joining Debut."
"That's a dumb name."
"He came up with it himself."
"…Of course he did."
She grinned. "Noble families bring their young heirs and heiresses to showcase their achievements before enrolling in the academy."
"So, a rich person flexes off."
"Exactly."
"Lame."
"Oh, very. But also necessary."
I sighed. "Okay, so what's Hugo doing with it?"
"According to my sources, he tried to sneak into the Dead Forest with a small guard unit three days ago."
My brow furrowed. "He what?"
"He didn't announce his visit. No permission. No declaration. Just snuck in."
I blinked slowly. "Does he have a death wish?"
"He ran into one of our black ops scouts. Got intercepted before he got far."
"… Let me guess. He pulled the 'I'm a duke' card?"
"No. Worse."
"…He tried to bribe them?"
"Nope."
"…He tried to kill them?"
"Ding ding."
I slammed my fist into the bench beside me, the wood groaning under the impact.
"That's not arrogance—that's suicidal stupidity."
"He wants power," she said plainly. "He's leveling up. Preparing."
I narrowed my eyes. "He thinks if he can beat me in a duel, he'll win over Amari."
"Exactly."
My voice dropped an octave. "Can I castrate him now?"
Stacy sipped her coffee again. "Still no."
I pouted.
"But…" She set the mug down on the edge of the ring and crossed her arms. "We've also discovered something else. Something more concerning."
She waited a beat, probably for dramatic effect.
"There's another demon fox."
My heart began to race.
"Alive?"
"Yes."
Hope. The feeling of hope bloomed in my chest, cold and bright like frost in the morning sun.
"But—" she continued.
And hope was shattered.
"She's currently one of Hugo's harem girls."
I froze.
"No."
"It gets worse."
"No."
"He hasn't touched her—"
"I swear—"
"In his culture, engaging in physical relationships before adulthood is considered a serious sin. They can build harems, but they're not allowed to physically engage before adulthood."
"…That's the dumbest excuse I've ever heard."
"Agreed. But it's apparently true."
I stared at her. "If I find out he's touched her even once, I will burn him down to the marrow."
"That's fine," she said casually. "Wrath level. Full approval."
I took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm already building behind my eyes.
"So… what's the plan?"
"Hugo sees you as the protector. You defended Amari last time he hit her. He thinks if he beats you publicly, Amari will stop clinging to you."
"He's going to challenge me at the banquet."
"Yup. In front of everyone."
"And the demon fox is the bait."
"Exactly. But remember—noble rules state the challenged gets to pick the duel conditions."
I smirked. "So he's going to try to provoke me into challenging him."
Stacy's grin mirrored mine. "I see you're already catching on."
"Perfect. I'll challenge him alright. I just need to decide whether I want to take his pride or break his kneecaps.
[30 Minutes Later—End of Planning]
"He's going to suffer so much," I whispered, eyes gleaming.
"And it'll be public, too," she added. "His whole family is watching."
"I'll make sure he limps for a week."
"That's my girl."
I leaned back again, satisfied. "So, what now?"
"We move onto the Rachel situation."
I groaned.
"How's that going?" she asked, her tone casual but sharp.
"Slowly. Daren continues to glare at me. He keeps yelling at me as if I'm the villain.
"You are the villain."
"I teased Brenda once and stabbed her by accident! Sirone flipped and shot me with reverse healing arrows!"
Stacy blinked. "She did what?"
"Yeah! I didn't even know that was possible! I bled backward!"
"Okay… that's terrifying."
"Right?!"
"Anyway. Let's return to Rachel. The King gave us ten months. That's our deadline to remove the Church."
I immediately sat up straight. "Ten months?! That's barely enough time to prep!"
"I've already started. But we need you to start leveling properly. You need to have a class before the Under-16 tournament. That's in eight months."
"Eight months?" I groaned. "I'm nowhere near ready! I haven't even mastered half my weapon sets!"
"That's why we're increasing your training."
"Shit," I muttered. "Then why aren't we training today?!"
She grinned.
"Because today is your last free day."
"...I'm going to die."
"You'll live."
"You're not the one getting shot by reverse arrows."
She glanced toward the gate.
"Our time's up."
[Gate Opens]
"Sorry I'm late," Kayda called as she stepped into view.
I turned.
And blinked.
She wasn't in uniform.
She wasn't even dressed for training.
She was… dressed up.
A white blouse with flowing sleeves, tucked into deep-blue jeans that hugged her legs. Knee-high boots, polished and dark. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail that swayed with each step, showing off the sharp line of her jaw and the elegant curve of her horns.
She looked—
Elegant.
Deadly.
Stunning.
'White works on her,' I thought, my brain short-circuiting for a second.
Then my eyes widened.
"Huh!?" I blurted.
Both Kayda and Stacy turned to look at me.
I coughed, face heating. "I said nothing!"
Kayda raised one perfectly shaped eyebrow.
Stacy grinned like she'd just won a bet.
I immediately regretted waking up today.