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

So they’d heard enough.

"Yes," Elara said simply. "Those facts are all accurate."

Ken moved closer, carefully navigating the debris. When he was a few feet away, he stopped and—to Elara’s surprise—went to one knee. Full formal position, fist over heart.

"Your Highness," he said quietly. "If you need someone for the... alternative method... I volunteer."

Elara stared at him.

"I’m already bonded to you through the collar," Ken continued, eyes fixed on the floor. "I’m strong enough to withstand your magic. I’m loyal. I would never take advantage or speak of it to anyone. And—" His voice lowered. "And I already know what it’s like to be in your presence during an episode. I’m not afraid."

"You should be," Elara said flatly. "Today nearly killed you. Cullens said your magical core was drained to dangerous levels."

"I’m beast-clan. We recover quickly." Ken’s jaw tightened. "Your Highness, I understand this is uncomfortable. Inappropriate. Not something you should have to consider. But if the choice is between your death and... this... then there’s no choice at all. I’d rather preserve your life through uncomfortable means than watch you die trying to maintain propriety."

Elara’s mind processed this at high speed. Ken was serious. Genuinely offering. Presenting logical arguments for why it made sense.

And she couldn’t identify a single emotional reaction to his offer.

Gratitude? Relief? Discomfort? Nothing. Just... analysis.

"You’re offering because you believe it’s your duty," she said slowly. "Not because you want to."