Raising Beast Cubs to Find a Husband-Chapter 165: The Poison Tea Party

The silence in the Throne Room was heavy enough to crush a submarine.

Primrose swallowed the tea.

It didn’t taste like chamomile. It tasted like battery acid mixed with ghost peppers and deep-sea pressure.

For a second, she felt nothing.

Then, her veins turned black.

"Primrose!" Caspian shouted, lunging forward, but Rajah held him back.

"Wait," Rajah growled, his eyes locked on the Fox. "Look at the tail."

Primrose gripped the edge of the table. Her vision blurred. She felt the venom rushing toward her heart, designed to shut down her organs one by one.

But before it could kill her, a cold sensation washed over her spine.

Her new Violet Tail—the Shadow Tail—whipped around and wrapped itself around her waist. It pulsed with a dark, hungry light.

The blackness in Primrose’s veins stopped spreading. It reversed. The venom was being sucked out of her blood and pulled into the tail.

The Violet Tail absorbed the purple glow. It fluffed up, looking shinier and healthier than it had all day.

Primrose blinked. Her vision cleared. She exhaled a small puff of purple steam.

"Spicy," Primrose wheezed, slamming the empty cup down. "Notes of arsenic and... is that lavender?"

Queen Dowager Morana raised an eyebrow. Her expression didn’t change, but her tail flicked with interest.

"Abyssal Nightshade," Morana corrected. "Impressive. Most land-walkers dissolve after the first sip. Your liver must be made of granite."

"I used to drink instant coffee in college," Primrose said, wiping her mouth. "This is nothing. Pour the next one."

"She is biologically defying the laws of toxicology," Cassian whispered, furiously scribbling notes in his waterproof journal. "The Shadow Tail is metabolizing the void-poison as fuel. She is literally eating death."

"Can I try?" Rurik asked, eyeing the teapot. "It looks like grape juice."

"No," Lucien said, grabbing Rurik’s collar. "You will die. And I am not carrying your corpse back to the surface."

"I have a cast-iron stomach!" Rurik argued. "I ate a rock once!"

"And we spent three days at the vet," Leonora reminded him. "Be quiet. She’s drinking round two."

Morana poured the second cup. This time, the liquid wasn’t purple. It was pitch black and swirling with tiny, screaming faces.

"Essence of the Kraken’s Bile," Morana announced. "It induces hallucinations, paralysis, and permanent madness."

"Fun," Primrose deadpanned.

She picked it up. Her hand trembled slightly, but she didn’t hesitate. She chugged it like a shot of bad tequila.

Gulp.

Primrose froze.

Her eyes rolled back in her head. She saw things. She saw the Void. She saw the Boss dancing the Macarena. She saw Caspian wearing a clown nose.

"Prim?" Caspian whispered, terrified.

Primrose shook her head violently, shaking off the hallucination. Her Gold Tail (the Light Tail) flared up, sending a pulse of warm mana through her brain, burning away the madness.

She slammed the cup down.

"That one was sour," Primrose croaked. "Do you have any sugar?"

Morana’s eyes widened slightly. She leaned forward.

"You have the Light of the Sun in your blood," Morana hissed. "And the Shadow of the Void. You are a contradiction, Fox."

"I’m a woman of many talents," Primrose grinned weakly. "Now, hit me with the big one. I want to see my fiancée again before I pass out."

Morana picked up the teapot. She poured the last cup.

It was clear. Completely clear, like water. But it didn’t ripple. It sat in the cup like solid glass.

"The Tear of the First Widow," Morana said softly. "This is not poison. It is pure, concentrated Sorrow. It breaks the will. It shatters the spirit. If you have any doubt in your heart... any fear... this tea will consume you."

Caspian stepped forward. "Mother, stop! That isn’t a test of strength. That is psychological torture!"

"Sit down, Caspian!" Morana snapped, the water around her boiling. "If she is to open the Tomb, she must face the sorrow of the past! She carries Ophelia’s blood! She must carry Ophelia’s regret!"

Primrose looked at the clear liquid.

Sorrow.

She had plenty of that. She missed Earth. She missed her old life. She was terrified she wasn’t good enough to be a mom to these kids.

She picked up the cup.

"Bottoms up," Primrose whispered.

She drank.

Cold.

It was colder than the poison. It felt like sinking to the bottom of the ocean alone.

Primrose felt a wave of crushing sadness. You are failing them. You are just a gamer. You aren’t a hero. You are going to get them all killed.

Tears pricked her eyes. She wanted to curl up and die.

Then, she heard a sound.

Crunch.

She opened her eyes.

Vali was standing next to her. He had snuck past the guards. He was holding a half-eaten granola bar.

"Are you okay, Prim?" Vali asked, offering her the soggy, crumb-covered bar. "You look sad. Chocolate helps."

Primrose looked at the wolf cub. She looked at Caspian, who was ready to fight an entire army for her. She looked at the dads, Silas, Arjun, Jasper, Clover, and Orion.

The sadness didn’t vanish. It just... got crowded out.

There was too much love in her life for the sorrow to take root.

Primrose smiled, tears streaming down her face. She took the granola bar.

"I’m okay, Vali," she sniffled. "I’m just... really hydrated."

She turned to Morana. The cup was empty.

Primrose burped.

It wasn’t a polite burp. It was a loud, resonant belch that released a cloud of black smoke shaped like a skull.

The skull floated up to Morana’s face, winked, and popped.

"Excuse me," Primrose said politely. "Compliments to the chef."

Morana stared at the empty cup. She stared at the popping smoke-skull.

Slowly, very slowly, the corners of her mouth twitched.

She let out a short, sharp laugh. It sounded like ice cracking.

"You have a stomach of iron, Ambassador," Morana said. "And a soul of rubber. It bounces back."

She stood up and bowed—just a slight inclination of her head, but from the Queen Dowager, it was monumental.

"You pass."

The tension in the room snapped. Rurik cheered. Caspian collapsed onto a bench, putting his head in his hands.

"Thank the Tides," Caspian breathed. "I thought I was going to be a widower before the wedding."

Morana waved her hand, and the table vanished.

"Come," she commanded, swimming toward a large map carved into the wall.

"I did not lock the city to keep you out simply out of spite," Morana admitted, tracing a line on the map. "Though I do find your presence annoying."

"Feeling is mutual, your Highness," Primrose muttered under her breath.

"I locked the city," Morana continued, ignoring her, "because the Tomb of Ophelia cannot be opened by force. The Boss has been blasting the door for three days. He has used Void Drills, explosives, and corruption."

She turned to look at Primrose.

"He failed."

"He failed?" Lucien asked, stepping forward. "Malachi said he had the map."

"He has the location," Morana corrected. "But he does not have the Key."

She pointed a long, sharp fingernail at Primrose.

"Ophelia was a Nine-Tailed Fox. She knew that one day, the Void would return for the Heart. So she sealed the Tomb with a Blood-Ward."

Morana’s eyes gleamed.

"Only a descendant of Ophelia... a Fox with the capacity for both Light and Shadow... can open the door."

Primrose stared at her hands.

"That’s why you gave me the tea," she realized. "You weren’t trying to kill me. You were checking if my tails were active."

"I was doing both," Morana shrugged elegantly. "If you died, you weren’t the One. Efficiency is key."

"The Boss knows this too," Cassian realized, his face paling. "That is why he tried to kidnap Silas. He thought the Heir of Shadow could brute-force the lock. But when that failed..."

"He will come for Primrose," Caspian finished, gripping his trident. "He is waiting for us."

"Yes," Morana agreed. "He is camping outside the Trench right now. He cannot get in, so he is waiting for the Key to arrive."

She swam over to a pedestal and pressed a hidden button. The floor opened up, revealing an armory of glowing, ancient weapons.

"If you are going to the Trench," Morana said, "you cannot go in that... whale."

She looked at the Bubble-Whale parked outside with disdain.

"It is a transport for tourists. You need a war machine."

She gestured to the hangar bay below the throne room.

Sitting there was a massive vessel carved from the skull of a Primordial Dragon. Its bones were reinforced with enchanted black steel, and its ribs formed the hull. It didn’t have engines; it had pulsating runes of propulsion etched into the bone.

"The Abyssal Hunter," Morana introduced. "An ancient relic from the First Age. It is powered by the city’s mana core and armed with Trident-Ballistae."

Caspian looked at his stepmother, stunned. "You are giving us the Royal Chariot?"

"I am lending it," Morana corrected sharply. "If you scratch the paint, I will turn you into sashimi."

She turned to Primrose.

"Go, Fox. Open the door. Save the world. And try not to embarrass the family."

Primrose smiled. It was a real smile this time.

"I’ll do my best, Mother-in-Law."

Morana grimaced. "Don’t call me that. Go. Before I change my mind."

They loaded into the Abyssal Hunter. The interior was carved from mother-of-pearl and felt more like a cathedral than a ship.

Real Jax sat at the helm, staring at a complex array of glowing rune-stones.

"Uh," Jax said, sweating. "There’s no steering wheel. Just... rocks."

"Place your hands on the runestone," Caspian instructed. "Will the ship to move. It responds to intent."

Jax closed his eyes. Go down. Fast.

The Dragon-Skull groaned. The blue runes along its spine flared to life.

"Course set for the Mariana Trench," Jax announced, his voice shaking. "We are diving."

As the vessel surged forward, Primrose looked out the enchanted glass eye-socket of the skull.

The black water of the trench loomed ahead. Somewhere down there was the Boss. And somewhere down there was her ancestor’s legacy.

She touched her stomach. The tea was still bubbling warm inside her.

"Ready?" Caspian asked, taking her hand. 𝒻𝑟𝘦𝘦𝘸ℯ𝒷𝑛𝘰𝓋ℯ𝘭.𝘤𝘰𝘮

"No," Primrose said honestly. "But let’s go anyway."

The ancient war-machine shot forward, diving into the crushing dark.