Reborn as the Psycho Villainess Who Ate Her Slave Beasts' Contracts

One of the beast knights—the fox-eared one, Ken—stepped forward. He looked better than Iris but not by much. His uniform was pristine as always, but his face showed strain.

"Your Highness," he said carefully. "In your absence, several crisis situations developed. Minor ones," he added quickly, seeing Elara’s expression. "Nothing that couldn’t wait for your return. But they’re all documented in those files and require your direct authorization to resolve."

Elara looked at the desk.

At the paperwork.

At Iris’s desperate, exhausted face.

At Demerti’s guilty expression.

At the five beast knights standing ready, probably expecting her to immediately dive into work despite having literally *just* regained consciousness.

She thought about the goddess’s words. About choosing compassion. About treating people as more than resources. About acting with care even when you couldn’t feel it.

Then she thought about the three days she’d apparently been unconscious while everyone else scrambled to keep things running.

And she made a choice.

"Iris," Elara said quietly. "Go to bed."

Iris blinked. "What?"