Chapter 148: From Urban Planner to Actual Duchess
Mirabelle stood in the center of one of the largest halls on the ground floor of Luchsenstein Castle.
Behind her stretched a seemingly endless carpet in a deep, warm shade of gold, running through the entire length of the hall before ending at the raised platform on which she now stood.
On either side of it rose tall stone columns.
And between those columns...
Beastmen and Beastwomen.
So many of them.
They lined both sides of the hall and crowded into the spaces farther back, filling nearly every available spot without ever stepping onto the golden carpet itself.
Their quiet conversations blended into a constant murmur that filled the enormous space. Mirabelle could distinguish the occasional laugh, the deeper rumble of a male voice, the excited whisper of a female, the shuffle of shoes against stone.
She could feel all of it behind her. Because Mirabelle herself stood with her back to the hall. Her attention was fixed on the woman before her.
Her mother.
The Duchess of Luchsenstein stood facing both Mirabelle and the gathered crowd beyond her, her posture perfectly composed.
Behind the young lynx waited those closest to their family. Her mates who were currently in Luchsenstein. Mirabelle’s grandmother and her males.
And Kaelith and Lucien.
Mirabelle resisted the temptation to turn around and look at them.
Instead, she let her eyes wander briefly beyond her mother.
The rear wall of the hall was dominated by enormous, narrow windows that stretched almost impossibly high toward the ceiling. Morning sunlight streamed through them in long golden columns, illuminating tiny particles drifting lazily through the air.
Beyond them lay the castle gardens.
Trees swayed gently in the morning breeze. Leaves shimmered beneath the sun, and colorful flowers filled the beds lining the paths.
Somewhere outside, birds were singing.
Their calls drifted through the open windows and mixed strangely beautifully with the voices inside.
But they weren’t the only sounds of nature in the hall.
Water whispered continuously around them.
At regular intervals between the living walls of greenery, narrow fountains had been integrated directly into the stone. Water emerged high above their heads and trickled downward over carefully shaped surfaces before disappearing into shallow basins below.
The gentle splashing created a constant background noise. And apparently did far more than simply look beautiful.
Despite the late summer heat waiting beyond the castle walls and the sheer number of bodies gathered in the hall, the air remained surprisingly pleasant.
Cool moisture kissed Mirabelle’s skin whenever the faint currents of air moved through the room.
The scent was equally unusual for a ceremonial hall. There was no overwhelming smell of stone, perfume, or hundreds of bodies packed together.
Instead, Mirabelle smelled water.
Damp earth.
Leaves.
Because large portions of the walls weren’t visible at all.
Climbing plants had claimed them.
Thick green vines rose between the columns, spreading across the stone in dense layers of leaves. Some carried tiny flowers. Others had grown so thick that Mirabelle couldn’t have guessed what the wall behind them looked like.
It made the enormous hall feel strangely alive. Like someone had persuaded a piece of the forest to become architecture.
Mirabelle took a slow breath.
She needed it.
Because yesterday was still sitting firmly in her bones.
The meeting with the Elders alone had demanded more concentration than she’d expected. Every answer had mattered. Every proposal had led to another question, another concern, another problem she needed to consider.
And then there had been the military.
Thousands of soldiers.
The speech.
The exhibition fights.
The conversations with the Captains.
Her discussion with the General.
By the time she’d returned to her rooms, she’d felt as though someone had emptied her head, shaken it vigorously, and expected her to continue functioning anyway.
Thankfully, Kaelith and Lucien had taken it upon themselves to distract her.
Very thoroughly.
The night had been hot, intimate, and sufficiently distracting that for several hours Mirabelle had almost managed to forget that one person was missing.
Almost.
Which had left her with a tiny stab of guilt afterward.
Silas.
And today, of all days, his absence bothered her considerably more. She had always imagined all three of them would be here when this happened.
When she became Duchess.
Kaelith was behind her.
Lucien was behind her.
She could feel both of them through their bonds, familiar and reassuring.
But where Silas should have been...
There was distance.
Mirabelle swallowed.
She understood why he’d gone. She’d agreed that he should go. Their search was important.
None of that changed the simple, childish thought currently lodged stubbornly in her chest.
She wanted him here.
She wanted all three of her mates standing behind her when her mother made her Duchess.
And she hated that Silas was missing it.
She could still feel the panther through their mate bond.
There was warmth. And something else.
Something she had quietly begun calling his shadow, simply because she had no better word for the sensation.
It was always there, somewhere at the edge of her awareness. Dark, steady, unmistakably him.
But none of it could disguise the fact that he wasn’t actually here.
Thankfully, her mother began to speak, pulling Mirabelle out of her thoughts and back into the present.
She still couldn’t quite believe this was really happening.
Only a few weeks ago, she’d been living on Earth, happily single and building a successful career as an urban planner.
And now...
Now she stood in a castle in another world, surrounded by Beastmen and Beastwomen, moments away from having an entire duchy placed into her hands.
The Duchess looked past her daughter for a moment. Across the hall. Across the countless faces gathered between the pillars.
When she finally spoke, her voice carried effortlessly through the silence.
"Luchsenstein has belonged to our family for generations." She paused. "At least, that is what the histories say."
Her gaze returned to Mirabelle.
"But I believe they are wrong."
A faint rustle moved through the hall.
"We have never owned this land.
Our ancestors walked its forests. They built their homes beside its rivers. They planted fields, raised children, fought wars, buried those they loved, and eventually returned their own bodies to the earth beneath our feet.
They lived here.
They laughed here.
They loved here.
They grieved here.
And they died here."
Her voice softened.
"Just as thousands upon thousands of Beastmen and Beastwomen have done before us."
The Duchess slowly extended one hand toward Mirabelle.
"A ruler may carry the title to a land.
She may draw its borders upon a map and place her crest above its gates.
But the land does not belong to her.
The rivers do not flow because a Duchess commands them. The forests do not grow because her family bears a noble name. And our people do not laugh, love, dream, and raise their Pups because we permit them to."
For several heartbeats, only the quiet trickling of water could be heard throughout the hall. It was as though every Beastman and Beastwoman in the hall held their breath.
"Luchsenstein lives.
And we...
...are merely given the privilege of caring for it while we are here."
Mirabelle felt something tighten in her chest.
"That was the responsibility given to our ancestors. To protect what was entrusted to them. To leave fertile earth where they found barren ground. To plant trees beneath whose branches they themselves would never sit.
To build roads whose destinations they would never live long enough to see.
To create a home in which those who came after them could live a little safer, grow a little stronger, and dream a little greater than those who came before."
Her mother’s eyes settled firmly on hers.
"One day, Mirabelle, you too will leave Luchsenstein." The words struck surprisingly hard. "And when that day comes, the Beast Goddess will not ask how tightly you held it.
She will ask what grew beneath your hands."
Silence.
Absolute silence.
Goosebumps spread across Mirabelle’s arms.
"Did the hungry eat?
Did the frightened find safety?
Did children grow into adults who could look toward their future with hope?
Did our forests still stand?
Did our villages flourish?"
She stepped closer.
"I have carried that responsibility for many years.
Imperfectly.
As did my mother.
As did hers and all bevor them.
As will you."
Her expression softened.
"And there is no one into whose hands I would rather place it."
She reached for Mirabelle’s hands and enclosed them within her own.
"So today, I do not give you Luchsenstein.
It was never mine to give. But I give you the responsibility of caring for it.
For its forests.
For its rivers.
For every village and every road.
For those who were born here...
...and those who will be born long after neither of us remains to know their names."
Her fingers tightened gently around Mirabelle’s.
"May you protect what must endure.
May you have the courage to change what must not.
May you plant what you will never harvest.
And may the Beast Goddess guide your hands when the path before you is one none of your ancestors ever walked."
The Duchess smiled at her daughter.
"Pups grow.
Generations pass.
Rulers become names carved into stone.
But Luchsenstein remains."
"LUCHSENSTEIN REMAINS."
Suddenly, the words thundered through the hall behind Mirabelle, spoken by hundreds of voices at once, like a prayer they all knew by heart.
Miranda’s eyes glistened.
Then the Duchess slowly slipped a heavy golden ring from her little finger.
Its broad, flattened face bore the deeply engraved seal of Luchsenstein, worn smooth around the edges by generations of hands that had carried it before hers.
"And I could not be prouder that from this day forward..." For a brief moment, she held it between them. "...it remains in your hands."
With that she gave it to Mirabelle.