The Golden Pavilion was exactly the kind of place I avoided in my past life. It dripped with gold leaf, smelled of expensive perfume, and had a waiting list longer than a dragon's lifespan.
But when you walk in flanked by the Wolf Marquis, the Tiger General, and the Snake Archduke, you don't wait. The seas (or in this case, the crowd of gawking nobles) part.
We were led to the private balcony. The tension was thick enough to cut with a steak knife.
Lord Rurik Jaeger sat on my left, radiating a chill that wilted the table flowers.
General Rajah Khanda sat on my right, radiating heat like a wood stove.
Archduke Cassian Argentis sat across from me, looking like he was judging the silverware's pedigree.
And I, Primrose Thistle, sat in the middle. A tail-less fox in a simple dress, surrounded by the most powerful predators in the empire.
The poor waiter, a trembling Deer-kin, approached the table. "M-my Lords? May I take your orders?"
"The lady will have the Frost-Aged Venison," Rurik rumbled, not looking at the menu. "Rare. It builds strength."
"Nonsense!" Rajah boomed, slapping the table. "She needs fire! The Volcanic Spicy Prawns! It strengthens the spirit!"
"How barbaric," Cassian drawled, flipping a page with a gloved hand. "Bring us the Moonlight Caviar and a bottle of the 82 Elven White. And for the lady... perhaps something light? The Crystal Salad?"
They glared at each other. The waiter looked like he was about to faint.
"Gentlemen," I said, my voice cutting through the testosterone fog. I smiled sweetly. "This is a conference, not a competition. And as a chef..."
I turned to the waiter.
"We'll have the Braised Titan-Boar Belly," I said. "The fat renders beautifully and it's rich enough for a Tiger." I nodded at Rajah.
"For the side, the Roasted Ice-Root Medley," I continued. "Earthy, hearty, and perfect for a Wolf." I nodded at Rurik.
"And for the wine," I looked at Cassian. "The 95 Shadow-Red. It has a dry, mineral finish that cuts through the grease. The Archduke will appreciate the complexity."
I handed the menu back to the stunned waiter. "And bring four plates. We're sharing."
Silence.
Rajah blinked. "Titan-Boar? That's my favorite."
Rurik grunted. "Ice-Root. Acceptable."
Cassian stared at me, his golden eyes narrowing. "You know your vintages, Lady Primrose. That is... unexpected."
"I know my ingredients," I corrected. "Now. Let's talk about your sons."
The dinner was a battlefield, but I was the general.
I navigated the conversation like I was managing a dinner rush. I praised Arjun's focus (to flatter Rajah), commended Vali's passionate spirit (to soothe Rurik), and highlighted Jasper's refined palate (to appease Cassian).
By the time the dessert arrived, the tension had shifted. They weren't fighting each other anymore. They were competing for my approval.
"Vali hasn't bitten a single servant in three days," Rurik stated, puffing out his chest slightly.
"Arjun did fifty pushups without breaking a vase," Rajah countered with a grin.
"Jasper," Cassian said smoothly, swirling his wine, "has gained two pounds. And he smiled yesterday."
He dropped that last fact like a mic drop. The other two glared.
"You're doing well," Rajah said, leaning in, his large hand resting near mine on the tablecloth. "But... a woman of your talents... living in that tiny shop? Alone?"
"It's dangerous," Rurik agreed, his voice low. "A fox with no tail... you're vulnerable."
"My estate has a guest wing," Cassian offered casually. "It is... climate controlled."
Here we go. The Protection offer.
"I am quite happy in my shop," I said firmly. "It's my home. And I have the best security system in the world."
"Oh?" Rajah laughed. "And what is that?"
"My clients," I said, smiling at the three of them. "Who would dare bother the woman who feeds the heirs of the Wolf, the Tiger, and the Snake?"
They looked at each other. A silent agreement passed between them. I had just accidentally created the most terrifying Neighborhood Watch in history.
We left the restaurant an hour later. The air outside was cool and dark.
As the three men argued over who would escort me home (Rurik brought his carriage, Rajah wanted to walk me, Cassian had a magic portal stone), I felt a sudden prickle on the back of my neck.
My Top Chef instincts—usually reserved for sensing a burning pot—screamed danger.
I looked up.
Across the street, perched silently on a gargoyle atop a cathedral roof, was a shadow.
It wasn't just a shadow. It was a man. He was wrapped in a cloak of absolute darkness, blending perfectly with the night. But I saw his eyes.
Glowing, unblinking violet eyes.
He was watching us. No, he wasn't watching the Lords. He was watching me.
Duke Lucien Crepusci. The Panther. The Spymaster. The Yandere route.
He didn't move. He didn't wave. He just stared, his gaze heavy and possessive, like a cat watching a mouse play with other cats.
I shivered.
"Cold?" Rurik asked, immediately stepping closer to block the wind.
"Just... a draft," I lied.
I looked back at the roof. The shadow was gone.
Three down, I thought, my stomach doing a flip that had nothing to do with the Titan-Boar. But the fourth one... he isn't going to walk through the front door. He's going to hunt me.
"Gentlemen," I said, turning back to the bickering trio. "I think I'll take that ride home now."
The carriage rattled away down the cobblestone street, carrying the noisy Wolf, the arrogant Tiger, the preening Snake, and... her.
Duke Lucien Crepusci remained perfectly still on the cathedral gargoyle, his dark cloak blending seamlessly into the night sky. His violet eyes didn't blink. He traced the path of the carriage until it disappeared around a corner, his gaze heavy and calculating.
"My Lord," a voice whispered from the shadows behind him. "You summoned me?"
Lucien didn't turn. He knew who it was.
Vesper, his most trusted aide and shadow-walker. The Crow-kin stepped out from the darkness, sleek black-feathered wings folded tight against his back and eyes shining like polished obsidian. He wore the dark grey leather of the Crepusci spy network, moving with a silence that rivaled the Duke's own. He was sharp, efficient, and lived for secrets.
"That woman," Lucien said, his voice a low, rough purr that barely disturbed the air. "The one with the silver hair. The one sitting between the loud idiots. Who is she?"
Vesper stepped forward, pulling a small, black notebook from his vest. He didn't need to read it; he knew everything.
"That is Lady Primrose Thistle, My Lord," Vesper recited, his voice a dry croak. "Twenty years old. A failed Fox-kin of House Thistle. No tail. No pheromones."
Lucien narrowed his eyes. Failed? With that kind of presence? She had Jaeger and Khanda eating out of her hand.
"She recently opened a business in the common district," Vesper continued. "The Little Whiskers Daycare. It is... an educational facility for cubs."
"A daycare," Lucien repeated, testing the word. It sounded soft. Weak.
"Rumors suggest she is a culinary genius, My Lord," Vesper added, flipping a page. "She has reportedly calmed the Wolf Lord's Demon Cub, and stabilized the Tiger General's son. Even Archduke Argentis sends his brother there daily."
Lucien went still.
She tamed the Demon Cub? And the Hyperactive Tiger?
His mind flashed to the empty, silent wing of his own estate. To a room with the curtains drawn tight. To a small, dark-haired boy who sat in the corner, staring at the wall with dead, unblinking eyes.
Silas Crepusci. His nephew.
The boy hadn't spoken a word since the accident. He didn't play. He didn't cry. He just... existed. The doctors said he was broken. The nannies fled from his unsettling, empty stare.
Lucien looked back at the empty street where the silver-haired woman had vanished.
She handled the noise. She handled the rage. But could she handle the silence?
"She collects strays," Lucien murmured. "Broken things."
"It appears so, My Lord," Vesper said. "Shall I arrange a dossier?"
"No," Lucien said, standing up on the narrow ledge. His violet eyes glowed in the dark.
"She might be able to help Silas."
He pulled his hood up, a shadow falling over his face.
"And if she can..." he whispered, the obsessive, possessive instinct of the Panther waking up in his chest. "I'm not going to share her with the Wolf or the Tiger. I'm going to keep her."
"Vesper. Prepare the carriage for tomorrow morning. We are going to the common district."
Vesper bowed low, his black wings spreading slightly. "As you wish, My Lord."
The hunt was on.