"Your Highness, I think you should rest for a while," Delphine said gently, her eyes full of worry as she watched Ceres continue blessing the ingredients on the kitchen counter.
They were inside the Empress's Palace kitchen, surrounded by the soft clatter of utensils and the murmurs of the palace maids as they prepared meals for the knights and soldiers currently training in the palace grounds. It had become a daily ritual, Ceres personally blessing the ingredients to boost the soldiers' HP and MP during this crucial period.
Everyone was on edge.
In just a few days, the third son of the Demon Lord was set to arrive in Aquilonis.
And Ceres had been pushing herself to the brink.
For the past three weeks, she had been draining her HP relentlessly. The only reason she hadn't collapsed was because Legion and Aurelian had been quietly replenishing her HP in the dead of night. Her HP had finally gradually leveled up faster, just as she had planned, but any satisfaction she might have felt had long been swallowed by dread.
She'd replied to the Demon Lord's son's message in English, her Earth language, and at the time, it felt clever. Defiant. Strategic.
But now?
Now it felt like she had poked a sleeping dragon.
And worse… the "dragon" in question wasn't Seiryu.
Because Seiryu was her Holy Beast.
And she was his master.
No, the Demon Lord's son was something else entirely. And the kind of force he would bring… she wasn't sure even Seiryu could protect her from it.
After centuries of bitter winters, for the first time in generations, spring had returned to Aquilonis. The people had felt warmth again. They'd planted crops. Children had played in the sun. And yet, not even three months into this fragile rebirth, a calamity was already descending upon them.
In the form of a prince.
And it was all because of her.
"I'm fine, Delphine," Ceres said softly. "This is the least I can do… after inviting disaster into our kingdom."
"You Highness, this isn't your fault," Mara chimed in from the other counter, stirring a thick broth and smiling kindly.
"But it is," Ceres replied. "It happened because I awakened Seiryu. Because I let the world know he returned."
"Your Highness," Morgana added gently, "you say that, but the truth is, if it weren't you who awakened Seiryu, it could've been someone weaker. Someone who would've panicked or ran. And we would've been the ones used as bait for the Demon Lord's son. So please… stop blaming yourself."
Ceres gave them a faint smile, but the exhaustion in her eyes remained.
"I appreciate you trying to calm me," she said. "I do. But tell me, how am I supposed to be at peace when none of you listened to my orders to leave Aquilonis before our… 'guest' arrives?"
After they had received the message, Ceres and Aurelian made a strategic decision: they informed the citizens that a prince from the demi-human empire would be visiting Aquilonis. They never disclosed who the prince was looking for.
They even sent requests for aid from the other kingdoms.
The responses?
Mockery. Suspicion. Even scorn.
Most dismissed it all as a political trick.
Accused Aquilonis of staging a trap, an elaborate farce meant to flaunt the power of the newly awakened Holy Beast.
After all, to most humans, demi-humans were a myth. A ghost story from the Great War. And now, with a Holy Beast Master rising in the north, the rest of Solmara had grown curious. But not supportive.
And so, with no support from beyond Aquilonis, Ceres and Aurelian gave the citizens a choice. They offered freedom. Any who wished to flee would be granted passage and coin.
Even without being told who the prince sought, the whispers spread like wildfire amongst the commoners. The commoners who had joined the Monster Expedition knew. They had seen Seiryu rise. They had seen who commanded him.
And so no one left.
Not after the Monster Expedition.
Not after seeing her stand between them and death while the nobles look the other way.
She had protected them when no one else would.
And now, quietly, collectively, they had chosen to protect her in return.
"Empress," Aurelian's voice came from the kitchen doorway, low but firm.
Ceres looked up from where she stood, her fingers glowing faintly as she blessed yet another basket of ingredients.
Aurelian walked straight to her, worry etched into the lines of his normally unreadable face. His sharp eyes scanned her face.
"You need to rest," he said gently. "You look pale."
"I'll rest later. I still have to bless these ingredients," Ceres insisted, brushing a hand toward the baskets lined up. "Ahhh!" she cried out when he suddenly scooped her up into his arms.
"Duke! Put me down!" she hissed, squirming in protest.
"You can manage the rest, right?" Aurelian asked Delphine, ignoring the struggling woman in his arms.
"Yes, Your Majesty," Delphine replied, bowing with a faint smile of approval.
"Aurelian!" Ceres snapped, "I said put me down!"
But he held her tighter and carried her effortlessly through the corridors, heading toward her private bedchamber as if she weighed nothing at all.
"What are you doing?!"
He said nothing, only pushed open the door and laid her carefully on the bed, like something precious, something breakable. She tried to sit up immediately, but he pressed her shoulder down, holding both her wrists gently in one hand.
"Rest, Empress," Aurelian said firmly.
"No," she scowled, voice still laced with exhaustion. "I still have to finish blessing the food. The knights, the soldiers, they need it. We can't afford to waste time..."
"If you don't rest now," Aurelian interrupted, his tone turning sharp, "I'll tell the entire barracks that you've been over-exerting yourself. You know how protective they are of you. Let's see if any of them still eat the food once they hear that."
Ceres opened her mouth to argue, but shut it just as fast.
"I…" she started, but he cut her off again.
"No buts. Seiryu is already carving a labyrinth beneath the Holy Church for the non-fighters, to keep them safe once the Third Son arrives. Everyone's working. Everyone's training. But you... " he brushed a hand gently through her hair, "... you need to stop before you destroy yourself."
He adjusted the pillow behind her head, then pulled a velvet blanket up to her chin.
"You are their hope. You think they won't notice if you fall apart?" he whispered, brushing a thumb over her temple. "You may have power, Empress… but your body is still fragile."
It was still only late afternoon, but the fatigue on Ceres's face was undeniable. Her skin was pale, her magic dimming.
Though she hated waking up early, she had been forcing herself to rise at dawn, every day, just to bless the food and drinks for the fighters. But even if sleep wouldn't replenish her HP, her body still needed rest.
Aurelian was right. Again.
"Fine," Ceres muttered, finally yielding. "But only for a while. Just a nap."
Aurelian smiled, one of those rare, soft smiles that never reached anyone else's eyes but hers, and leaned down to kiss her forehead.
"Don't you dare fake-sleep," he whispered, lips brushing against her skin. "I'll be right here, watching."
"Yeah, yeah," Ceres grumbled with a roll of her eyes, but they fluttered shut.
Aurelian didn't move.
He stayed by her side, one hand cradling hers, the other occasionally brushing over her cheek. His fingers wove into her hair, massaging her scalp with the kind of reverence only a man in love would dare show.
And Ceres, despite herself, despite her pride, despite the storm inside her chest, fell asleep.
"Huh?"
Ceres looked around, blinking against the soft golden light that bathed the air.
The place felt familiar, but it was not Aquilonis. It was not Solmara. It wasn't anywhere in the world she had known since her transmigration.
No… this was Earth.
Specifically, it was the orphanage.
The one she had secretly funded when she was alive.
The garden was in full bloom, exactly as she remembered it, wisteria crawling up the fence, the sweet scent of jasmine hanging in the air. Her chest tightened as the memory swept through her.
"Am I dreaming?" she whispered to herself, stepping slowly into the garden. Her boots crunched lightly over the pebbled path, the breeze brushing her hair as if welcoming her back.
This wasn't the first time. Ceres often had vivid dreams after they return from the Monster Hunt Expedition, so vivid, they felt like waking memories. And yet, each time she opened her eyes, the details would fade like mist. She would only remember that it had been beautiful.
This time, it was different.
"Throw stones at it! Drive it away!"
A chorus of children's voices broke the calm. She turned swiftly toward the sound.
A group of orphans stood near the garden wall, their small hands filled with pebbles. They were aiming at something in the shadows.
Ceres rushed forward. "Stop!"
The children froze, startled by her voice.
She pushed through them gently and looked over the low brick barrier.
Curled in the corner, barely visible, was a tiny black kitten. Its fur was matted with dust, its body trembling. One leg bent at an unnatural angle.
"Why are you hurting it?" she asked, turning to the children, her voice soft but firm.
"Because it's bad luck, big sister," one little boy answered.
"My aunt said black cats bring curses," added another girl, her eyes wide and serious.
Ceres sighed, gently gathering the stones from their hands.
"Do you like it," she asked, kneeling to their level, "when people call you cursed or unfortunate just because of the color of your skin, or where you came from?"
The children looked at each other, then shook their heads.
"No, sister," said one softly.
"It would make you sad, wouldn't it?"
They nodded again.
"That kitten was just born that way. Just like you. It didn't ask to be black. It didn't choose to be feared. But still, it is."
Her voice softened, but her eyes were unwavering.
"If your parents were thieves, would you like it if people hated you for crimes you didn't commit?"
The children's heads lowered in shame.
"So please… don't judge someone, or something, just because others do. Choose kindness. If everyone else chooses to hurt the kitten… and you do too… then who's left to protect it?"
"Sorry, sister," they all mumbled.
"It's okay," she smiled gently. "But promise me, don't hurt animals again. Not unless your life is in danger. Or I'll be very disappointed in you."
"Nooo, please don't be sad, big sister. We promise!" a girl wailed.
Ceres chuckled, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "Good. Now, guess what? I brought donuts. I left them in the kitchen, but if you don't hurry, the other kids might finish them all."
Gasps erupted from the group.
Like a flock of birds, they scattered, racing back toward the kitchen, laughter echoing in the air.
Ceres exhaled, her smile fading slightly as she turned back toward the wall.
The kitten was still there. It hadn't moved.
It had tucked itself even tighter into the corner, shaking violently. And it didn't run, not because it didn't want to, but because it couldn't.
Its leg was injured. Possibly broken.
She stepped closer, crouching slowly.
"It's okay, little cub. I'm not going to hurt you," she murmured, extending a hand.
The kitten hissed. Then, without warning, it bit her.
Pain flared along her skin, but she didn't flinch. She didn't pull away.
"I know. I know it hurts," she whispered. Her voice trembled, not from pain, but from sorrow. "It's okay… You're okay now…"
She reached out again and gently scooped it up, even as its tiny fangs dug into her hand. She cradled it to her chest, ignoring the sting of the bite.
She pressed her cheek lightly to its matted fur, rocking it softly.
"I've got you, little cub," she whispered again, soothing both the animal and something inside her own heart.
With her free hand, she opened the orphanage gate and made her way toward the parking lot, where her car waited.
She gently settled into the driver's seat, the kitten curled tightly in her lap. With one hand on the wheel, she carefully maneuvered the car through the quiet streets, her other hand softly stroking the little creature's fur.
"Don't worry, little cub," she whispered, keeping her voice calm and low. "You'll be well soon."
It didn't take long before she arrived at the animal shelter.
As soon as she stepped inside, the head of the shelter, Ms. Jenny, came to greet her.
"Ms. Ceres," greeted Ms. Jenny with a warm smile, until she saw the blood on Ceres's hand and the hissing kitten in her arms.
Her expression changed instantly, concern replacing warmth.
"What happened?" she asked, trying to gently take the kitten from Ceres.
But the kitten hissed and clawed weakly, clinging to her shirt with a desperate grip.
"I think it's still scared, Ms. Jenny," Ceres explained softly as she made her way inside. "The children at the orphanage were throwing stones at him. Said he was bad luck."
Jenny sighed but didn't argue. Her gaze softened as she stepped aside to let her pass into the clinic.
Inside, the staff paused at the sight of her. Everyone knew who she was. Everyone greeted her with quiet respect.
April approached quickly, holding a tray of antiseptics and gauze. She attempted to take the kitten, but it hissed again, even more fiercely.
"It seems he only calms down with me," Ceres murmured, holding the kitten securely against her.
The staff exchanged glances, then simply nodded. April stepped closer, beginning the delicate process of cleaning the kitten's wounds while it remained nestled in Ceres's arms. The little creature trembled but didn't lash out again, soothed by the warmth of her voice and presence.
Eventually, the tiny leg was bandaged, a soft blue wrap circling the fractured limb.
"Will he heal okay?" Ceres asked, her voice laced with concern as she looked at Ms. Jenny.
Jenny gave her a reassuring smile as she tended to the bite wound on Ceres's hand. "Yes. The fracture's fresh, he'll be fine in a few weeks. You got to him just in time."
Ceres winced a little when the antiseptic touched her skin, but she kept still.
She clucked her tongue disapprovingly.
"You need to be more careful," Jenny scolded lightly. "I know you mean well, but an animal bite isn't something to brush off."
"It's fine. It doesn't even hurt," Ceres replied with a small smile.
Jenny arched a brow. "Pain's not the point. What if it had rabies?"
"Then it's a good thing I got my rabies booster just last month, right?" Ceres said with a soft laugh. Jenny just rolled her eyes in defeat.
Marga, one of the admin assistants, approached with a clipboard.
"The kitten doesn't have a chip, Ms. Ceres. Looks like he's a stray. What should we list as his name in the records?"
Ceres tilted her head, thinking.
"Hmm. Since they thought he was bad luck for being black, let's go the opposite. Something that suggests light or purity, balance it out. But he's a boy… so not Snow."
"Cotton?" April suggested.
Ceres shook her head. "Still sounds too soft."
They all began throwing out random names, Snow, Ice, Salt, even Sugar, laughing at the silliness of it.
"Ice could work, but didn't we already have a dog named Ice?" Ceres asked. The others nodded.
"Okay, I've got it," she finally said, eyes lighting up. "Tofu."
"Tofu?" they all echoed, half-laughing.
"Yes. Tofu's white. And if you shorten the name, it's Tuf. Sounds like 'tough.' And this little guy is definitely tough, surviving alone out there despite how tiny he is."
She leaned down and gently booped the kitten's nose.
"What do you think, little cub? Do you like that name? Tofu," she cooed.
The kitten, now bandaged and curled tightly in her arms, blinked up at her. For the first time since she found him, it didn't flinch.
It just looked at her, long and steady, as if recognizing something. As if, for the first time in its small life, it felt safe.
Then, with a quiet sigh, it closed its eyes and fell asleep in her arms.
Ceres smiled, brushing her fingers along its tiny ears.
"It's just a temporary name," she whispered. "Your real one will come when someone finally takes you home… and loves you."