Raising Beast Cubs to Find a Husband novel Chapter 30

Chapter 30: The Warlord’s Serenade and The Expensive Archduke.

I barely had time to recover from the Wolf Lord’s "tasting menu" when the next summons arrived.

This one wasn’t scrawled on parchment. It was delivered by a squad of six armored knights from the Crimson Fang Legion, who marched into my shop, slammed their spears against the floor in unison, and unfurled a scroll of red velvet.

"LADY PRIMROSE THISTLE!" the lead knight bellowed (apparently, volume ran in the Khanda faction). "General Rajah Khanda requests the honor of your presence at the Grand Training Grounds. He wishes to demonstrate his... devotion to the preservation of your safety!"

Oh no. Not a date. A drill.

I tried to decline. "I have dough rising—"

"The General has already secured a magical stasis-box for the dough!" the knight shouted. "Your chariot awaits!"

The Grand Training Grounds

The "chariot" was a literal war-chariot pulled by two massive, armored beasts that looked like rhinos. When we arrived at the training grounds, I realized this wasn’t a private meeting.

Thousands of soldiers stood in perfect formation. Banners snapped in the wind. The air smelled of steel, sweat, and ozone.

And there, standing on a raised dais like a golden god of war, was General Rajah Khanda.

He wasn’t wearing his tank top today. He was in full ceremonial armor—gold-plated steel intricately carved with tiger stripes, a red cape billowing behind him. He looked magnificent. Terrifying. And extremely loud.

"SHE ARRIVES!" Rajah roared, his voice amplified by wind magic.

CLANG. Ten thousand soldiers slammed their shields.

I wanted to crawl into a hole. This wasn’t a date. This was a coronation.

Rajah leaped from the dais—a twenty-foot drop—and landed in front of me with a shockwave of dust. He straightened up, beaming.

"Lady Primrose!" he boomed, taking my hand and bowing low. "Welcome to my heart! I mean—my headquarters!"

"General," I squeaked, trying to pull my hand back (it was like trying to pull away from a statue). "This is... a lot."

"Nonsense!" Rajah laughed. "A woman of your value requires a display of Strength! Rurik offers you a dark, cold castle. Cassian offers you a gilded cage. But I, Rajah Khanda, offer you an ARMY!"

He gestured to the legions.

"Behold!" he shouted. "The Crimson Fang! They are yours to command! Do you want a mountain moved? We will move it! Do you want a river diverted? Done! Do you want to invade the Southern Kingdoms? Just say the word!"

"I just want to make lunch, General."

"Then we shall conquer the ingredients!" he declared.

He pulled me toward a weapon rack. "But first... a gift."

He picked up a massive, two-handed greatsword. The blade glowed with enchanted runes.

"This," Rajah said reverently, presenting the weapon to me like a bouquet of flowers, "is ’Fang-Breaker’. It was forged in the dragon-fires of the East. It can slice through enchanted steel. It is yours."

I stared at the sword. It was taller than me.

"General," I said slowly. "I appreciate the gesture. But I chop carrots. This would... atomize the carrot."

"It is for your protection!" Rajah insisted, his green eyes pleading. "You are small! You have no claws! You need a fang of steel!"

He tried to hand it to me. I took it.

My arms immediately buckled under the weight. I tipped forward.

"Whoops!" Rajah caught me (and the sword) with one arm, pulling me flush against his cold armor.

Suddenly, the "Golden Retriever" energy shifted.

He held me there, easily supporting my weight and the massive weapon. His face was inches from mine. I could feel the heat radiating off him, the sheer, overwhelming power of a vigorous, prime-aged Tiger beast-kin.

He wasn’t smiling anymore. His gaze dropped to my lips, then back to my eyes. The "Warlord" was looking at me like I was a conquest he hadn’t anticipated.

"You are so... fragile," he whispered, the amplification magic gone, his voice a rough rumble. "It terrifies me. I want to build a wall of shields around you so high that no shadow, no wolf, and no snake can ever touch you."

He leaned in. "Let me be your shield, Primrose. Let me—"

"DAD!"

A small voice cut through the romantic tension like a knife.

Arjun marched onto the dais. He was wearing a miniature version of his father’s armor (which was adorable). He looked critical.

"Dad!" Arjun yelled. "Your form is sloppy! You are compromising her center of gravity! That is not how you hold a civilian!"

Rajah froze. He blinked, the intense "Warlord" aura vanishing instantly. He looked at his son.

"Arjun! I was... executing a tactical stabilization maneuver!"

"You were squishing her!" Arjun accused. He marched up and gently took the massive sword from my hands (he lifted it easily—beast-kin strength was unfair).

"Here, Prim," Arjun said, handing me a small, reasonable-sized dagger from his own belt. "Use this. Dad’s sword is for compensating."

Rajah choked. "Compensating?! Arjun! Who taught you that word?!"

"Jasper," Arjun said. "He calls it ’Overcompensation for Tactical Insecurity’."

"Huh?" Rajah raised his brow, looking confused.

Arjun sighed and said simply, "He said you have ’Big Sword Energy’."

The ten thousand soldiers behind us were shaking, trying desperately not to laugh.

Rajah turned bright red. He looked at me, looked at the giant sword, and realized he looked ridiculous.

"I..." Rajah coughed. "I shall... have the smith forge something smaller. A... a paring knife of destiny!"

"That sounds lovely, General," I said, patting his armored arm. "Maybe we can skip the invasion of the Southern Kingdoms for now?"

"Postponed!" Rajah agreed quickly. "Until after lunch!"

As Arjun dragged his father away to lecture him on "Proper Civilian Interaction Protocols," I leaned against the weapon rack.

Wolf: Too aggressive.

Tiger: Too overwhelming.

I looked at the dagger Arjun had given me. At least the kids had common sense.

Two romantic disasters down. Two to go.

And I had a feeling the Snake wasn’t going to try to bite me or crush me. He was going to try to buy me.

After the Tiger’s shout-fest, I was hoping for a quiet day before I started preparing for the festival again.

Instead, I got a carriage made of solid ebony with gold rims parked in front of my shop.

Alistair stepped out, holding a velvet cushion. On it sat a black envelope sealed with a gemstone.

"Lady Primrose," Alistair intoned. "The Archduke requests your presence at the Gilded Vaults."

The Auction House. The place where kingdoms bought their artifacts and nobles bought their egos.

"Is this a drill?" I asked suspiciously. "Do I need armor?"

"You need silk," Alistair corrected, handing me a dress box. "Formal wear is mandatory."

The auction house smelled of beeswax, money, and desperation.

Archduke Cassian Argentis was waiting for me in a private box that floated magically above the main floor. He looked devastatingly elegant in a suit of midnight-blue velvet with emerald buttons. His deep purple hair was tied back with a silk ribbon, and his liquid gold eyes tracked me like a viper watching a mouse.

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify