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

"Nothing," Elara said, and took a bite of egg. Warm. Salty. Exactly the right temperature. Her body reacted with an almost greedy relief she noted but didn’t dwell on.

"The work can wait, Your Highness," Mira ventured, voice careful. "The Duke said your health is the priority. He won’t be angry if you... take longer."

"He’ll be worried if I delay too long," Elara corrected. "Worry leads to unnecessary interventions. Interventions complicate variables." She swallowed, wiped her fingers, and picked up a slice of toast. "We compromise. Limited work. Clear boundaries."

The System floated closer until it was partially overlapping her field of view, arms still crossed. "Define ’limited,’ Host. Use small, honest numbers."

"Three hours," Elara repeated. "Broken into two blocks with rest between. Cullens will be here for at least half an hour; that’s built-in delay. After Demorti, I’ll return here, not to the study."

"And if Demorti brings half the Ministry on chains behind him?" the mouse pressed.

"Then I send them away," Elara said. "Or make them stand while I lie down. That tends to shorten conversations."

Mira, oblivious to the invisible argument, poured more tea. "Shall I prepare the blue formal coat, Your Highness? Or something lighter?"

"Something lighter," Elara said. "Demorti has already seen me collapse once this week. He can endure seeing me in less ceremony."

Ken made a faint sound that might have been agreement. "The Duke is expecting a report, not a performance," he said. "He told the Guard Captain anyone who pressures you today answers to him."

The mouse whistled. "You’ve got people throwing political knives *and* shields for you. All because you reorganized some beastmen and stared down an empress."

Elara sipped her tea. "Cause and effect. I improved his security metrics. He invests in preserving the asset."