Chapter 528: Elegance in Authority ( 528 )

Inside the Beastkin Royal Training Arena.

Sunlight poured through the open arches above, casting golden light across the polished stone floor. Mana crystals glowed faintly on the walls, resonating with the flow of refined magic.

In the center of the arena stood a young woman, sword in hand, her stance graceful and poised.

Each strike was precise.

Each movement effortless.

Not a single step wasted.

Felicia, first princess of the Beastkin Kingdom, lowered her blade smoothly after completing her final form.

A light breeze swept through the open hall, brushing against her soft silver-blonde hair as it swayed around her shoulders.

She exhaled quietly, magic fading from her fingertips.

“Hm…?” She glanced toward the entrance.

One of the palace attendants approached quickly and bowed.

“Princess Felicia.”

She tilted her head slightly, expression serene.

“Yes?”

“His Majesty has summoned you.”

Felicia wiped her sword calmly and returned it to its sheath.

“Father?”

“Yes, Princess. He has requested your presence in the throne room.”

She picked up her cloak and draped it around her shoulders.

“…I see.”

Her voice was gentle, but composed. Not hurried. Not flustered.

“What for?” she asked as she walked, her steps light and controlled.

“We… were not told, Princess.”

Felicia gave a soft hum and nodded once.

“I understand.”

Without another word, she left the arena—calm, elegant, and already prepared for whatever came next.

Hallways of the Beastkin Royal Palace.

The sound of soft footsteps echoed gently through the corridor.

Princess Felicia walked with quiet grace—her presence serene, her movements precise.

As she passed by, the palace guards lining the walls straightened and gave a formal salute—fist to chest, heads slightly bowed.

Maids who crossed her path stepped aside politely and gave a respectful curtsy, hands together as was proper for a noble lady of her standing.

Felicia nodded to each in turn—calmly, politely, without losing stride.

She walked as though gliding—light, composed, and always elegant.

Inside her mind, however, a quiet thought stirred.

What does Father want from me this time…?

Her expression didn’t change, but her thoughts drifted.

Hunting down bandits again? That last group barely put up a fight.

Or perhaps slaying a stray monster near the valley?

No… maybe another miasma outbreak? That’s been more common lately.

She turned a corner, passing beneath a tall archway adorned with the royal crest.

Whatever it is… I’ll handle it. As always.

As she passed another hallway, Felicia’s gaze briefly swept across the line of attendants preparing for midday duties.

Her eyes stopped on one.

A young maid stood with a basket of towels, posture proper—but her collar was slightly tilted, and her shoes… dull, unpolished.

Felicia stopped.

“You there.”

The maid flinched slightly and straightened, eyes wide.

“Y-Yes, Princess!”

Felicia walked closer—her steps as light as ever, her voice quiet but firm.

“Adjust that collar. And your shoes… they haven’t been polished, have they?”

The maid turned red, lowering her head immediately.

“I… I’m sorry, Princess!”

Felicia’s tone didn’t waver.

“This is the royal palace. Appearances reflect discipline. Correct it.”

“Yes, Princess!”

Felicia turned away without another word and resumed walking.

She didn’t scold harshly.

She didn’t linger.

She simply expected standards to be met.

Moments later — Beastkin Royal Throne Room.

The heavy doors opened quietly.

Felicia stepped through with perfect posture, hands gently folded in front of her as she walked with soft, elegant steps.

Every motion radiated dignity—her cloak flowed behind her like a noble maiden’s veil, and the soft sound of her boots echoed evenly across the polished floor.

She stopped three paces from the throne and gave a graceful curtsy.

“Do you call for me, Your Majesty?” she said with a calm, melodic voice.

King Lioness raised an eyebrow.

His brow twitched slightly.

This girl of mine is way too polite sometimes.

He leaned forward on the throne, one arm resting lazily across the armrest.

“Yes, I did.”

Then his tone shifted with a hint of annoyance.

“But why do you keep calling me that? Just say ‘Father.'”

Felicia raised her head slowly, her expression still calm.

“I’m sorry, Your Majesty,” she said softly. “But I am inside the throne room.”

Lioness stared at her for a moment.

Then let out a low sigh.

“…You really are nothing like Mimi.”

Felicia lifted her chin slightly, her voice still soft, but firm.

“I’m sorry, Your Majesty…”

She opened her eyes fully, gaze unwavering.

“…but please refrain from comparing me to that beast.”

King Lioness raised an eyebrow.

Felicia continued without hesitation.

“An unrefined beast who causes trouble wherever she goes.

Who climbs statues, disrupts council meetings, and can’t sit still for more than ten seconds.”

Her tone didn’t change. Still calm. Still composed.

“…A girl who forgets she is royalty every time she shouts ‘Nya~’ in public.”

Lioness leaned back, one corner of his mouth twitching.

“…I see.”

He let out a faint sigh.

“Well, I wasn’t wrong when I said you’re different.”

Felicia curtsied once more.

“Thank you, Your Majesty.”

Felicia remained standing, composed and polite.

“May I know the reason for Your Majesty calling me here?”

King Lioness leaned back in his throne, rubbing his temple with two fingers.

Inside his mind:

Ugh… this is exactly why I hope that boy somehow manages to make her fall in love.

She’s already rejected more than a dozen noble suitors—each with proper titles, land, and decent pedigree. She didn’t even hesitate.

Every time one shows interest, she looks at them like they’re some kind of insect.

Even her mother’s starting to worry.

Yes, she’s still young… just turned eighteen, but still—

She’s too strict. Too serious. Every sentence sounds like she’s reading a royal decree.

She’s obsessed with perfection—swordsmanship, magic, etiquette, academics. She doesn’t tolerate mistakes. Even her maids tremble when she inspects her tea.

She never jokes. Never laughs unless it’s muted behind a fan. She doesn’t bend. She doesn’t break.

He looked at her—standing still like a portrait. Not even shifting weight from one leg to the other.

This girl needs someone who can drag her off that glass pedestal and make her act like a living person… not a porcelain doll.

He sighed again.

“…Felicia.”

“Yes, Your Majesty?”

“I have a mission for you.”

Felicia kept her posture upright, but her eyes narrowed just slightly.

“I see.”

Then she bowed her head for a moment, polite as always.

“But if this mission involves teaching the beast—”

Her tone dipped half a note colder.

“—or working alongside her in any way, I must respectfully refuse.”

Lioness blinked.

“…You mean Mimi.”

“I do.”

Her expression remained flawless.

“I have no interest in babysitting someone who calls herself a princess while jumping off balconies and meowing during strategy lectures.”

Lioness leaned a hand against his cheek.

“Felicia…”

“She once tried to duel the stablemaster because he wouldn’t let her name the horses.”

He looked off to the side.

“…She did, didn’t she.”

Felicia closed her eyes and exhaled softly.

“So. Is this mission related to her?”

Lioness gave a wry smile.

“No. Not this time.”

“Then I’m listening.”

( End Of Chapter )

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