CHAPTER 85: CHAPTER 84. SPARRING PARTNERS

Guest Palace at Fenclade Palace

"It’s the baby, isn’t it? The baby’s the reason I’m eating so much meat lately?" Vivianne asked, her tone a mix of amusement and disbelief. She rested one hand on her stomach while the midwife gently checked her pulse and the faint curve beneath her silk gown.

The midwife chuckled softly, her hands practiced and warm. "You have a very healthy baby, Your Grace," she said reassuringly. "And yes, it’s normal to crave more protein. After all, your child carries the blood of a demon, and you yourself are a werewolf. That combination takes a lot of strength to nourish properly."

Vivianne sighed, glancing at the plate beside her bed, still heavy with roasted venison and a half-eaten steak. "I wasn’t really used to eating this much meat," she admitted, brushing a strand of silver-white hair from her face. "Back in the empire, I preferred lighter meals, fruit, bread, and a bit of fish. But now I can’t seem to stop thinking about grilled meat or stews."

The midwife smiled knowingly. "It’s common, my lady. Babies have a way of making their mothers crave what they need most. Occasionally, it’s food you’ve never touched before. Sometimes it’s things you didn’t even like."

Vivianne’s lips curved in a faint smile. "So it’s not just me losing control, then?"

"Not at all," the midwife said warmly, setting aside her tools. "It means your body knows exactly what your baby needs."

Vivianne leaned back against the cushions, the sunlight spilling through the tall window bathing her pale hair in gold. The faint sounds of Gorhal, voices, bells, and distant laughter floated in from outside. For a brief moment, everything felt peaceful.

Then her expression softened, a hint of longing flickering across her eyes. "Where’s my wife?" she asked quietly.

"Your Grace is at the training center," came another voice from the doorway.

Vivianne turned her head and found Marvessa standing there, poised and calm as ever, a tray of steaming tea balanced in her hands. She moved slowly, her white hair catching the light as she stepped closer.

"She’s been there since morning," Marvessa continued, setting the tray down beside the bed. "Sparring with the Beast King’s soldiers. It seems they wanted to test their strength against her."

Vivianne huffed a soft laugh, shaking her head. "Of course they did. And I suppose she didn’t refuse?"

"Oh, she loves beating up those pups.’" Marvessa smirked, pouring a cup of tea and handing it to her.

By pups, Marvessa didn’t mean children. It’s her way of mocking the full-grown beastmen who kept challenging Roxanne, beasts akin to twice her size, bodies filled with pride and muscle, yet acting like spoiled whelps desperate to prove something.

Ever since King Leonhart declared that if Roxanne defeated him, he would acknowledge her power and follow her command, the entire Dominion had been thrown into a frenzy. Some called it an insult. Others called it a test. But to Marvessa, it was hilarious.

The "pups," as she liked to call them, came in droves, alpha warriors and seasoned fighters, all convinced that the Grand Duke of Borgia isn’t worthy to stand against their king. They couldn’t stomach the idea that a woman of mixed blood might overpower the mightiest of the beastmen.

Vivianne couldn’t help but smile at that, her fingers curling around the warm cup. "Ugh. She’ll teach them a lesson they won’t forget."

"She already has," Marvessa replied, her tone laced with admiration. "Half of the training yard is watching in silence."

Marvessa watched before she went back to the room with a tray of tea, the training grounds turned into a parade of arrogance. Each challenger came forward, flexing their strength and roaring with bravado, only to be silenced by Roxanne’s calm, overpowered dominance. She didn’t need to raise her sword; using a bare hand, without any mana, and the way she hit them all in one hit made the weight of her alpha presence enough to bring most of them to their knees.

It made the Borgia knights smirk, the corners of their mouths tugging upward as yet another proud "pup" hit the dirt with a heavy thud. Dust rose around the training ground, and the once-arrogant beastman groaned in defeat.

"Another one down," Mara muttered, not even bothering to hide her amusement. "Someone fetch the next pup. Maybe this one won’t cry."

The knights chuckled under their breath. Some even started keeping count. Roxanne didn’t need to gloat, her calm composure, the steady rhythm of her breathing, and the effortless way she handled each challenger spoke louder than any victory shout.

By the time the next beastman hesitated to step forward, Marvessa was already gone, leaving the knights to enjoy the spectacle. She made her way back to Vivianne’s room, the tray of tea still warm in her hands.

Inside, the Grand Duchess sat by the window, sunlight spilling through the curtains and glinting off her silver hair. Marvessa began recounting the scene, the proud warriors, the fallen challengers, and the whispers spreading through the training grounds.

Vivianne listened quietly, her fingers circling the rim of her teacup. Then she smiled, soft but full of pride, her violet eyes gleaming. "Good," she said, her voice calm and sure. "Let them see what kind of woman I married."

And so word spread swiftly through the halls and streets of Gorhal. The Demon of the North isn’t just a rival worthy of their king; she’s a force to be feared.

The news made Leonhart laugh, a deep, rumbling sound that filled the throne room and echoed against the stone walls. His blood stirred with excitement, his pulse quickening like a beast sensing prey. For the first time in years, he could feel that familiar thrill of battle burning in his veins.

"The Demon of the North," he murmured, lips curling into a grin. "So she’s showing her fangs already."

The thought of it alone made his claws itch. The idea of facing someone who could push him to his limits, someone who could make his muscles ache and his instincts roar, he had been waiting for this.

He leaned back in his chair, eyes glinting with anticipation. "It’s been too long since I’ve met a proper opponent," he said, mostly to himself.

Because deep down, Leonhart understood. Roxanne de Borgia wouldn’t cross into beastman territory just for pride or diplomacy. There was purpose behind this challenge—something greater. She isn’t merely testing strength; she’s moving the board itself.

And Leonhart knew exactly what that meant. To conquer each head of the major races on the continent is to unite them under a single banner, one alpha ruling all, a power unseen since the ancient wars.

He stood, his tail flicking once behind him. "Get Mara," he commanded one of his aides, voice sharp and alive with energy. "Tell her to meet me in my private training ground."