Raising Beast Cubs to Find a Husband novel Chapter 86

Chapter 86: The Iron Swan

Day Ten of Tutoring.

The West Wing had undergone a startling transformation.

Gone were the shadows, the butter-slicked floors, and the sense of impending doom. The curtains were thrown open, letting the sunlight stream onto the velvet rugs. The torn books had been replaced.

And in the corner, where Lady Ellia used to plot the demise of her tutors, a desk had been set up for Grand Duke Bastion.

He was sitting there now, reviewing military logistics reports while occasionally glancing up to check on his daughter. He looked tired—rebuilding a relationship with an eight-year-old is exhausting work—but the dull, haunted look in his eyes was gone.

Ellia was sitting at the main table, chewing on the end of a quill.

"This is stupid," she announced, glaring at a sheet of paper. "Why does ’X’ always want to be found? Why can’t ’X’ just stay lost?"

"Because ’X’ is the variable, little Lion," I said, pouring tea. "And in life, we must solve for the unknown."

"I prefer solving with a sword," Ellia grumbled. "Like General Rajah."

Bastion chuckled from his desk. "Rajah solves his grocery list with a sword. We aspire to be more versatile."

I smiled. It was domestic. It was peaceful.

It was also terrifyingly close to the deadline.

I looked at the calendar on the wall. Twenty-two days until the Imperial Debutante Ball.

I looked at the checklist the Emperor had sent me.

Standard Imperial Math (Check)

History of the Clans (In Progress)

The Waltz of the Seven Moons (???)

Fan Language and Courtly Signals (???)

Proper Curtsy Hierarchy (???)

I felt a cold sweat break out on my neck.

I am a Chef. I am a Mother. I am a Gamer. I can grind levels, bake a soufflé, and dodge a fireball.

But I have absolutely no idea how to be a "Lady."

"Um," I cleared my throat. "Lord Bastion?"

"Yes, Tutor?"

"Regarding the curriculum," I tapped the list. "I can teach her to be smart. I can teach her to be kind. But... I don’t know how to dance the ’Waltz of the Seven Moons.’ The only dance I know is the ’Macarena’, and I don’t think the Emperor would appreciate that."

Bastion blinked. "The Macarena?"

"It involves a lot of hip movement," I dismissed. "The point is, I’m a commoner. I don’t know High Society etiquette. If I teach her, she’s going to walk into that ball greeting people with high-fives instead of curtsies."

Ellia perked up. "I like high-fives."

"No," Bastion and I said in unison.

"We need a specialist," I decided. "We need someone who speaks fluent Snob."

Princess Leonora’s Solar

I found Princess Leonora in her garden, staring dreamily at a rosebush. She wasn’t painting. She was just... sighing.

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