Mirabelle sat at a round table together with four elderly Beastwomen.
Normally, a round table implied equality.
No head. No hierarchy.
Yet somehow it still felt as though the four of them were sitting on one side. And she was sitting on the other.
Every pair of eyes rested on her.
The silence felt so complete that she could almost hear her own heartbeat.
The elderly Beastwomen made her surprisingly nervous. Objectively, she had no reason to be. None of them possessed the authority to veto her succession as Duchess.
Yet they were among the most influential women in all of Luchsenstein. If they refused to cooperate with her... her reign would become immeasurably more difficult.
Tara had already told her a little about each of them. It had helped. A little.
But now, sitting across from them with that knowledge somehow made the situation even more intimidating.
On her left sar elder Seraya. The hawk Beastwoman.
