The morning sun filtered through stained glass as Serenil sat in the training courtyard with Lyssia, Nyara, and Reia standing silently beside him, dressed in clean maid uniforms that matched their distinct personalities. Though they were former assassins, their loyalty was now absolute—each one bound to Serenil not by magic, but by freedom and conviction.
Footsteps echoed.
The three beastkin girls looked up as a new presence entered the courtyard: Astarotte Sylvarien, the succubus princess, accompanied by her own attendants and a quiet, lingering aura of noble authority.
Her catlike green eyes immediately focused on the three beastkin.
"These are your... attendants?" she asked, voice cool as ever.
"Yes," Serenil said, rising to his feet. "They serve me now. Former assassins. I've repurposed them."
Astarotte's brows lifted slightly. "How pragmatic of you."
Nyara narrowed her eyes, already bristling with defensive instinct. Lyssia stood protectively in front of Serenil, while Reia tilted her head, curious and cautious.
"And you're the succubus?" Reia asked innocently.
Astarotte's gaze shifted to her. "And you're the rabbit girl who failed to kill her target."
Silence fell.
Reia's cheeks flushed, but she didn't back down. "And now I serve him. Willingly."
Astarotte folded her arms. "You're all hopelessly attached to him. Tch… I'll never understand human sentimentality."
Serenil stepped forward, tone calm. "They aren't sentimental. They're bound by something deeper. Something you might learn if you stay long enough."
She scoffed, but didn't deny it.
For a moment, there was tension in the air—an invisible duel between queenly pride and beast-borne loyalty.
Then Serenil said, "I want you all to get along. That includes you, Astarotte."
"Don't expect me to play nice," she muttered, flicking her tail with annoyance. "But I won't start a war. Not today."
It was a start.