Chapter 177: Stuffed Rabbit

He analyzed her with the cold, assessing eye of a battlefield commander. He noted her stance, the lack of fear in her eyes, and the faint, almost imperceptible hum of dark mana radiating from her core.

Sebastian nodded once, a sharp, decisive motion.

"Understood," the retired knight rumbled. He turned slightly, gesturing toward the open double doors of the manor. "I shall instruct the kitchens to prepare non-spicy, highly nutritious food. And I will immediately begin reinforcing the perimeter walls. If the Capital vipers intend to strike at the Archduke, they will undoubtedly target the flank."

He didn’t ask questions or offer congratulations.

He simply recognized her as a high-value asset that required immediate protection.

Seraphina instantly loved him.

"Hi, Mr. Sebastian," Seraphina waved, stepping out from behind Kaelus’s leg. "I like your scar. It makes you look very distinguished."

Sebastian paused.

The grizzled veteran, who had spent decades terrifying recruits, stared at the small child complimenting his facial disfigurement.

A slow, incredibly faint smirk touched the corner of his lips.

"Thank you, My Lady," Sebastian rasped, bowing his head slightly. "I earned it killing a man who insulted His Grace’s mother. I assure you, my tea service is equally effective."

"Excellent," Seraphina beamed.

As the Vanguard filed into the grand, imposing manor of the Capital Estate, leaving the chaotic, flower-strewn streets behind, Kaelus placed a reassuring hand on Seraphina’s shoulder.

The fun of the journey was over.

The game of Imperial Chess had begun in earnest.

The Emperor was waiting, the nobles were plotting, and the ghosts of the Capital were whispering their secrets.

But as Seraphina walked into the foyer, flanked by the Reaper, three elite commanders, and a scarred veteran butler, she felt a sense of security.

Let the Capital play its games.

The Northern Sovereign had arrived, and she was ready to flip the board.

***

The Imperial Capital was not merely a city, it was the mother of all playgrounds.

At least, that was Seraphina von Nacht’s professional opinion.

Her previous geographical experiences had included a dreary gray orphanage, a chaotic night market, an underground goblin-forge that looked suspiciously like an industrial accident, and a sweltering volcanic crater.

Compared to those places, the Capital Estate was paradise.

It was enormous.

It was bright.

It had chandeliers.

And, most importantly, it had floors.

Very smooth floors!

Extremely smooth floors!!

The Capital Estate was a monument to high-society elegance.

It had been constructed from pale limestone and polished white marble that gleamed beneath the southern sunlight. The corridors were absurdly wide, lined with plush carpets the color of crushed blueberries. The ceilings were decorated with sweeping frescoes depicting starry night skies, silver wolves, and other things wealthy people apparently enjoyed putting on ceilings.

It was beautiful.

Seraphina loved it.

But what she loved most were the floors.

Because if a six-year-old girl wearing soft woolen socks took a running start, jumped at exactly the right angle, and possessed no respect for household property—

She could slide approximately twenty feet down the hallway.

Seraphina knew this because she had conducted extensive scientific research that morning.

Three times...

The fourth attempt had ended when Sebastian appeared at the end of the corridor with the expression of a man who had just witnessed his life’s work being personally insulted by a pair of socks.

After that, Seraphina had been informed that indoor transportation via sliding was prohibited.

She had accepted this ruling with great dignity. She had also immediately begun searching for another corridor.

Unfortunately, living in the Capital Estate came with one major drawback.

The Vanguard was busy.

The moment they had arrived in the Capital, the fifty elite knights of the Black Bastion had undergone a dramatic transformation.

Back in the work, they were doting, heavily armed babysitters.

Here?

They were hyper-vigilant military security forces.

The Capital was a viper’s nest.

Spies lurked everywhere. Assassins hid behind political smiles. Nobles had enough secrets to fill entire libraries, and Emperor-sanctioned snoops apparently considered the Nacht estate a particularly interesting place to visit.

Sir Lucas, Sir Boris, and Sir Gallahan were constantly occupied with organizing patrols, inspecting magical wards, checking security reports, and glaring aggressively at anyone who wandered too close to the iron gates of the Mansion.

Seraphina was bored, and she missed them.

She missed Sir Boris lifting her onto his shoulders so she could touch the chandeliers.

She missed Sir Lucas whittling tiny wooden animals for her.

She even missed Sir Gallahan’s ridiculous dramatic entrances.

Apparently, the knights missed her too.

And unlike sensible adults, they were perfectly willing to violate their own security protocols in order to see her.

It was early afternoon.

Seraphina was sitting in her enormous, sunlit bedroom, kicking her little legs over the edge of a velvet chaise lounge while attempting to brush Ignis.

Ignis was a tiny pink ember-puppy, but he was also a criminal.

The little fire-spirit had decided that the brush was actually a delicious chew toy and was currently gnawing enthusiastically on its bristles.

"Give it back."

Yip!

"That’s my brush."

Yip-yip!

"You’re being naughty."

Ignis wagged his fiery little tail.

Seraphina narrowed her eyes.

"You are very cute, so I will forgive you."

Yip!

"But only this once."

Ignis promptly bit the brush again.

Seraphina sighed.

He was incorrigible.

Then—

Tap.

She froze.

Tap. Tap!

Seraphina slowly turned toward the enormous floor-to-ceiling window overlooking the manicured hedge mazes.

Another tap.

She blinked.

Was there a bird?

A very large bird?

Perhaps a monster?

She immediately grabbed the nearest object for protection.

It was a stuffed rabbit.

Seraphina considered the rabbit.

The rabbit considered nothing, because it was a stuffed rabbit.

"You’re brave," she whispered.

She slid off the chaise lounge and waddled toward the window.

Then she looked up.

Her mouth fell open.

Hanging upside down outside the glass was Sir Gallahan.

His pristine white cape fluttered dramatically in the breeze.

His golden hair was dangling toward the ground.

His boots were somehow attached to the side of the building.