Are Beast Nobles Supposed to Be This Lewd?

And she really did have to look up. The General stood almost two heads taller than her.

Sharp tusks protruded from his lower jaw and curved upward past his upper lip, lending his face an undeniably dangerous appearance.

His eyes were comparatively small, while his dark hair was coarse and stiff, rising in short, almost bristle-like strands that made his boar lineage impossible to miss.

And yet...

For a Beastman who appeared to be somewhere around Leontis’s age, he was surprisingly attractive.

Mirabelle was beginning to suspect that higher cultivation stages somehow made Beastmen more appealing.

Or perhaps more... magnetic.

There was something about powerful Beastmen that seemed to draw attention naturally.

Considering she was now constantly surrounded by exceptionally high-ranking males, the effect probably wasn’t nearly as impressive on her as it would have been on another female.

Still.

She noticed.

"Don’t worry, Future Duchess," the General said, amusement still rumbling beneath his voice. "If they couldn’t endure a little heat, they wouldn’t be very good soldiers."

Mirabelle smiled up at him.

"Of course." Then she looked back toward the men standing beneath the merciless sun. "But just because they can endure it doesn’t mean they should have to."

She raised one hand and gestured toward the edge of the platform.

"Owen?"

The wolf Beastman had been waiting quietly in one corner of the shaded structure throughout their conversation.

He immediately approached and bowed.

"Future Duchess."

"Would you please arrange refreshments for the soldiers? Especially once we begin the exhibition fights. Make sure there’s enough water for everyone."

Owen nodded.

"Of course."

"And one more thing."

Mirabelle glanced toward the two wooden grandstands on the opposite side of the training grounds.

"Speak with some of our plant-affinity Beastmen. I’d like them to consider whether we can create natural shade over the spectator stands."

She tilted her head, already picturing it.

"Perhaps climbing vines growing over a wooden framework. Grapevines might work particularly well, but they can be creative. As long as it provides enough shade without obstructing the view of the training grounds."

Another short bow.

"I’ll see to it."

"Thank you."

Owen turned and disappeared down the steps.

Mirabelle faced the soldiers again. From the corner of her eye, she caught the General studying her.

Not openly enough to be impolite.

But definitely studying her.

His expression had changed ever so slightly.

Mirabelle pretended not to notice.

Good.

Apparently, the next test had already begun.

Then the boar Beastman beside her straightened.

His entire presence seemed to change.

"ATTENTION!"

His thunderous voice rolled across the training grounds.

The soldiers moved as one.

Until that moment, they had stood with their feet planted apart and their hands clasped behind their backs.

Now thousands of bodies moved simultaneously. Boots struck together.

Right fists came down over their hearts.

Left hands remained behind their backs.

The movement was so perfectly synchronized, so fluid despite the sheer number of Beastmen performing it, that Mirabelle drew in a startled breath.

The sound of thousands of boots hitting the packed ground reached her a heartbeat later like a single dull crack.

Wow.

"ACKNOWLEDGE THE DUCHESS!"

"YES, GENERAL!"

Thousands of voices answered him at once.

The sheer force of it seemed to vibrate through the wooden platform beneath Mirabelle’s feet.

Then every soldier turned forty-five degrees to the left.

Toward her mother.

Thousands of eyes locked onto the Duchess.

"DUCHESS!"

The word thundered across the field as every soldier bowed.

Mirabelle blinked.

Before she had fully processed the sight, the General’s voice rang out again.

"ACKNOWLEDGE THE FUTURE DUCHESS!"

Thousands of soldiers turned ninety degrees in the opposite direction.

Toward her.

And suddenly...

Every single one of those eyes was fixed on Mirabelle.

She could feel them. Thousands of Beastmen staring directly at her.

"FUTURE DUCHESS!"

They bowed.

Mirabelle stood there for a moment.

Then another.

They continued staring at her.

Apparently waiting.

she discreetly glanced toward the General.

"You can... let them stand comfortably again."

Something that might have been amusement flickered through his eyes.

Then he turned back toward his soldiers.

"AT EASE!"

Again, they moved as one.

Feet spread apart. Hands returned behind their backs. Their posture relaxed by perhaps half an inch.

Mirabelle wasn’t entirely convinced Beast soldiers understood the meaning of the word relaxed.

More importantly...

They were still looking at her.

’I suppose I’m expected to say something now.’

She straightened. Then stepped closer to the railing.

Her fingers brushed the sun-warmed wood before she lifted her chin and looked across the seemingly endless formations.

"Soldiers of Luchsenstein."

To her own surprise, she got the volume exactly right. She didn’t shout.

Her voice carried across the training grounds, clear and strong enough to reach even the soldiers standing at the far end of the field.

"It is an honor to stand before you today, knowing that we will face the challenges of Luchsenstein’s future together."

She let her gaze travel across the formations.

"Perhaps some of you have already heard that I have plans for Luchsenstein’s military."

A few ears twitched among the soldiers.

"My goal with every one of those changes is the same: To make the lives of our citizens safer and easier."

Her expression grew more serious.

"And to protect and improve the lives of you and your families as much as I possibly can.

I sincerely hope you’re willing to support me in that."

Mirabelle paused.

Mostly because she needed a second to gather her thoughts. Apparently, the soldiers interpreted her silence differently.

She noticed several pairs of eyes flick briefly toward the General. The boar Beastman gave an almost imperceptible nod.

"YES, FUTURE DUCHESS!"

The answer erupted from thousands of throats.

Mirabelle nearly jumped.

She hadn’t actually been asking for a response.

A smile spread across her face before she could stop it. The unexpected declaration of support warmed something deep inside her chest.

She waited until silence returned.

"I want to be a ruler who is there for her people." Her gaze moved deliberately across the soldiers. "So I’m going to tell you this once.

If you ever believe one of my decisions is wrong... Tell me."

There was the slightest shift among the formations.

"If you have an idea that could make life in Luchsenstein better... Safer... Or happier... Then I want to hear it.

I want you to come to me and tell me."

Her voice remained steady.

"I won’t repeat this invitation. Because I don’t intend to spend my reign telling you what kind of Duchess I am."

She paused.

"I intend to show you."

The training grounds had gone completely silent.

"You’ll see through my actions that I am a Duchess you can speak to. One who listens before she decides.

And one who makes those decisions for the good of Luchsenstein and its people."

Mirabelle hesitated for only a fraction of a second. Then added:

"Under the guidance of the Beast Goddess."

Almost instinctively, she curled her fingers into a fist.

Her thumb rested across them.

She brought the fist to her lips and pressed a brief kiss against her thumb.

Then she raised the closed fist toward the sky.

Mirabelle wasn’t entirely sure why she’d done it. She’d seen something vaguely similar in a movie once, and somehow, in that moment, it had simply felt right.

For several heartbeats...

Nothing happened.

Then one soldier lifted his fist.

He kissed his thumb.

Raised it toward the sky.

Another followed.

Then three more.

Ten.

Twenty.

The gesture spread through the formations like a ripple across water.

Not perfectly synchronized this time.

There was no command.

No General ordering them to move.

One soldier simply followed another.

Until thousands of closed fists rose beneath the blazing summer sky. For once, the training grounds weren’t filled by a deafening military response.

There was only the soft rustle of movement.

The shifting of sand beneath thousands of boots.

And thousands of Beastmen silently raising their fists toward their Goddess.

Mirabelle stared out at them. Something tightened unexpectedly in her chest.

She had meant it as nothing more than a spontaneous gesture.

Apparently...

She’d just invented something.

"For Luchsenstein!" she called.

The words came out entirely on impulse.

And once again, thousands of voices answered her.

"FOR LUCHSENSTEIN!"

The roar rolled across the training grounds.

’Oh my God. I feel like a cult leader.’

Mirabelle lowered her fist very quickly.

Alright.

That was enough spontaneous symbolism for one day.

She turned toward the General.

"Let the exhibition fights begin."

He gave a sharp nod before facing the assembled troops once more.

"BEGIN THE EXHIBITION FIGHTS!"

Immediately, the formations broke apart.

But there was no chaos. The soldiers moved in orderly lines toward the grandstands, each unit filing away with practiced precision.

Only a single pair remained behind.

The two Beastmen walked toward the enormous circle of packed sand at the center of the training grounds.

The fighting ring.

Around them, the remaining soldiers continued filling the stands, row after row, until the previously empty wooden benches disappeared beneath hundreds of bodies.

Mirabelle leaned slightly against the railing.

Now it was time to see exactly what Luchsenstein’s army could do.