Are Beast Nobles Supposed to Be This Lewd?

Mirabelle sat at a round table together with four elderly Beastwomen.

Normally, a round table implied equality.

No head. No hierarchy.

Yet somehow it still felt as though the four of them were sitting on one side. And she was sitting on the other.

Every pair of eyes rested on her.

The silence felt so complete that she could almost hear her own heartbeat.

The elderly Beastwomen made her surprisingly nervous. Objectively, she had no reason to be. None of them possessed the authority to veto her succession as Duchess.

Yet they were among the most influential women in all of Luchsenstein. If they refused to cooperate with her... her reign would become immeasurably more difficult.

Tara had already told her a little about each of them. It had helped. A little.

But now, sitting across from them with that knowledge somehow made the situation even more intimidating.

On her left sar elder Seraya. The hawk Beastwoman.

Thanks to Tara’s warning, Mirabelle managed not to stare.bNot because the older woman had been disfigured by her scars.

Quite the opposite. She looked like a legendary general who had stepped straight out of a science-fiction film.

Her dark hair had been worked into thick dreadlocks decorated with feathers before being gathered into a high ponytail. Her skin carried a warm olive tone, darker than Mirabelle’s own.

The scars crossing her exposed arms and collarbone spoke of countless battles. Her powerful muscles spoke even louder.

She wore what looked like a fitted leather corset over a loose, dark-brown shirt whose sleeves had been rolled up to her elbows. It gave her the appearance of a pirate captain more than that of an elder.

A bow rested against the side of her chair, accompanied by a quiver of arrows. By now, Mirabelle knew bows were among the very few weapons Beastmen actually used.

Steel-gray eyes observed her beneath long, dark eyelashes.

Despite her age, very little about her seemed old. Most of her hair remained as black as night. Only a handful of silver strands hinted at the passing decades.

Mirabelle suspected she was the youngest of the Elders. Perhaps somewhere between her mother’s age and her grandmother’s.

Beside her sat Elder Rina, the goat Beastwoman.

Her hair was snow white. Mirabelle wasn’t entirely convinced it had ever been any other color.

Magnificent horns curled gracefully backward from her forehead. Heavy golden earrings stretched her ears noticeably lower beneath their weight.

She wore luxurious robes that rivaled anything Mirabelle had seen among the highest-ranking noblewomen. Countless golden bangles chimed softly around her wrists whenever she moved.

Across the visible skin of her chest stretched intricate tattoos that almost resembled the lines of an ancient map.

She had wrinkles. Many wrinkles.

A lot of the kind earned by a lifetime of laughter.

And yet there remained an undeniable firmness around the corners of her mouth that suggested she wasn’t someone to be underestimated.

To Mirabelle’s right sat Elder Seraya. The raccoon Beastwoman.

Unlike every other Beastperson Mirabelle had met, Eldanara possessed complete black rings surrounding both eyes.

Until now, the Beast traits she’d seen had been subtle — dark markings resembling eyeliner or elegant stripes across the cheeks like herself

This...

This looked almost theatrical. As though someone had carefully painted marks of midnight around her eyes.

And somehow it gave her an exotic beauty.

She was considerably shorter than the others and pleasantly round, giving her an immediately approachable appearance.

Soft white hairs had begun appearing around her ears and fluffy tail, but her face remained surprisingly smooth.

Years of enjoying good food had left her cheeks pleasantly full, making her appear younger than Mirabelle had expected.

Warmth radiated from her. Motherly. Comforting.

The moment Mirabelle saw her, she understood why the woman had earned the reputation Tara had described.

Instead of elegant dresses, she wore comfortable linen trousers beneath a loose shirt — an unusually practical choice for a Beastwoman.

Altogether, she looked a little like a hippie.

Flowers had been woven into her long, wavy hair. Wooden bracelets decorated both wrists. A carved wooden mask of the Beast Goddess hung around her neck alongside several necklaces of polished wooden beads.

Everything about her suggested someone who preferred gardens to castles.

The final seat at the table belonged to the snake Beastwoman. She was, without question, the most beautiful Beastwoman Mirabelle had seen so far.

Her long, perfectly straight green hair shimmered softly in the light, giving her undeniable main-character energy.

She possessed an almost otherworldly beauty. Her features were flawless yet striking, framed by piercing yellow eyes with narrow, slit pupils.

She was exceptionally tall, her long, elegant limbs lending every movement an effortless grace. Both hands rested quietly in her lap as she sat with impeccable posture.

Her dark-green dress, which Mirabelle suspected was made of silk, flowed lightly around her body, subtly accentuating her feminine figure.

She had to be somewhat older than the hawk Beastwoman. Yet it was almost impossible to notice the few fine wrinkles around her eyes. Because those mesmerizing eyes drew all attention to themselves.

For a fleeting moment, Mirabelle found herself wondering what snake Beastmen must look like.

She genuinely couldn’t understand why their lineage was still viewed with such suspicion by so many Beastpeople.

The snake Beastwoman radiated a deep, tangible calm. Simply looking at her made Mirabelle feel a little more at ease.

Everything about her quietly whispered... Healer.

Perhaps she had noticed Mirabelle’s gaze lingering on her. She was the first to speak.

The moment Mirabelle heard her voice, she nearly fell off her chair.

It was so gentle.

So soft.

So wonderfully calm.

For one absurd moment, Mirabelle couldn’t help wondering how many battles must have been fought over this woman in her younger years.

"I’ve heard about your plans to establish a house for the sick," the snake Beastwoman said. "I’d like to hear your thoughts."

Her yellow eyes never left Mirabelle’s.

"Why do you wish to gather healing in a single place?"

The question was phrased with impeccable care. Polite, measured and gentle.

And yet...

Mirabelle heard the criticism hidden beneath every carefully chosen word.

’So it begins.’

The lynx female intertwined her fingers to stop herself from picking at her fingernails again.

Ever since arriving in this new body, her nails had become much stronger and no longer split as easily. Still, it was a habit that made her appear restless and uncertain. So she did her best to avoid it.

She offered the snake Beastwoman a warm smile before answering in the same calm, measured tone.

"Elder Sesha... thank you for sharing your concerns with me."

One of the snake Beastwoman’s eyebrows rose slightly, but she allowed Mirabelle to continue.

"I know it isn’t customary for the sick to travel to their healers. Traditionally, the healers travel to those who are ill.

However, I want to create a place where knowledge can be brought together. A place where multiple healers can learn from one another instead of working in isolation.

I also want to create a place where the sick are given time to heal." She paused briefly.

"In many families, when one person falls ill, others soon follow. I believe that’s because illnesses spread from one person to another.

If sick Beastmen stay in one place while they recover, it becomes much less likely that they’ll unknowingly infect their families.

Just as importantly..." She smiled gently.

"...we take away one of the greatest worries many patients carry: the fear of making the people they love sick as well.

Instead of spending their strength worrying about everyone else, they can devote all of their energy to getting better."

She folded her hands in her lap.

"I also believe there’s value in stepping away from the demands of everyday life. Families come with responsibilities. Noise. Constant obligations.

Sometimes... healing simply becomes easier when those burdens are set aside for a little while."

Her gaze wandered around the table.

"At the same time, the families themselves are relieved. In this hospital — as I’d like to call it — we would employ Beastmen and Beastwomen whose job is to care for those who cannot care for themselves.

My goal isn’t to profit from these institutions."

It’s to strengthen our people while creating entirely new professions.

We’ll need caregivers.

Healers.

Administrators.

Suppliers.

And by placing the hospital near the marshlands, where so many medicinal herbs grow, we also create a new source of income for the surrounding villages."

She pause for a moment and reached for her glass.

"The people living there often have fewer opportunities to earn a living through farming or trade.

Gathering medicinal herbs would allow them to support themselves while supplying something our hospital will always need.

Healing shouldn’t depend on luck — on whether the right healer happens to live nearby. I want to create a place where the best knowledge, the best medicine, and the best care come together.

A place where every citizen knows that, no matter what happens, there is somewhere they can go."

"But isn’t it our families who give us strength?" Elder Nara interjected.