The Ugly Duckling Of The Tiger Tribe

Chapter 348: Let’s take a three days break

The flap of the tent rustled, and instead of Noah’s snarky face, a puff of white, fluffy wool poked through first. Robin, the Chief of the Sheep Tribe, squeezed his way inside, his head and upper back covered in that thick, snowy fleece that had finally grown back after the great shave a month ago.

"Land-Mother," Robin whispered, his voice trembling as he bowed so low his woolly forehead nearly touched the furs.

I felt that familiar heat crawl up my neck. Land-Mother. I’m never going to get used to that title, I thought, offering him a slightly awkward, lopsided smile.

"Hey, Robin. You’re just in time."

He straightened up and then blinked, his eyes going wide as they landed on the tanned figure sitting in the corner.

"Prince Thalor? The currents have truly brought a blessing to this tent."

Thalor stood, his regal air returning even in the cramped space.

"Chief Robin. It’s good to see your coat has returned so healthily since the war ended." He smiled warmly, the sight of the sheep’s coat giving him joy.

They really did love the sheep tribe because of their soft wool growing on their backs.

"Indeed, Highness," Robin bowed again, though his eyes were already darting toward the center of the pile. He froze, his jaw dropping as he saw the three round-cheeked, human-faced babies currently gumming my thumbs. "It looks like they have shifted without any issue. How wonderful, Land-mother. They have the faces of the lambs!"

"They have the faces of a massive headache," I teased as I rolled my eyes, though my voice was thick with affection. "But they’re freezing, Robin. Tell me you brought the goods I asked you to prepare."

"Of course!" Robin beckoned to the two weavers behind him, who were also sporting fresh, woolly capes of their own natural fur. They carried small baskets filled with the softest, hand-knitted fabrics. "We have been spinning the finest under-fleece for weeks, just waiting for the day they traded paws for hands."

Noah pushed his way back in, huffing from his run.

"I brought them! And let me tell you, sheep move surprisingly fast when there’s a royal fitting involved."

Hm, I didn’t notice. They were quite slow during the war, though? Anxiety caught their limbs?

I reached into the basket and pulled out a tiny, cream-colored tunic. It was so soft it felt like a cloud.

"Oh, this is perfect," I exclaimed, my eyes warming up.

I started with Raiden, who was currently trying to eat his own toes with his harmless gums. He grumbled, his little white-and-black ears pinning back as I tugged the wool over his head, but the moment the warmth hit his skin, he let out a satisfied, toothless coo.

Fenric helped me with Phina, his massive fingers looking hilarious against the tiny wooden toggles of her ankle bands. He was so careful, his red eyes focused with the intensity of a man diffusing a bomb, until she was finally bundled up in indigo-streaked wool.

"There," Fenric murmured, a look of pure, sappy pride on his face. "Now she looks like a proper little warrior."

"Let me see," Noah pushed through to take a good look at his daughter, and pride touched that snarky face of his.

I finished dressing Lyra, who looked like a tiny silver-haired doll in her sweater. She stared at Robin’s woolly head with intense curiosity, her little hand reaching out to grab a tuft of his fur.

"Ah, she has the grip of a leader, Land-Mother," Robin chuckled, leaning down so she could reach him. "And the Princess’s silver hair... she will be the jewel of the palace."

I held all three of them close, the weight of their clothed bodies feeling more ’real’ somehow.

"Arinya, does this mean you’re going to take more breaks for the cubs?" Fenric asked, watching as I snuggled them.

"Hm, the palace construction can happen without me for a few days. Fernic, you’re in charge." I announced, looking at the three men and the sheep-folk gathered in my small home. "I’m taking a leave of absence. My babies need me, and I’m not missing a single second of those chubby cheeks."

Noah grinned, leaning against the tent pole.

"I think it would be great if everyone took a break as well. They’ve all been working hard."

"Ah, good idea," I said. "We’ll take a three-day collective break," I announced, and the three of them nodded.

"I’ll tell the workers," Noah added and pushed off the pole, as he headed for the exit. "They’ll probably be too busy celebrating to care anyway. A Royal Shift calls for a feast, doesn’t it?"

I looked at my three perfect children and sighed.

"Just keep the feast outside the tent. We have a lot of napping to do."

Maybe I should make today a national holiday, haha. I mean, I am queen, so I can make that possible, right?

I kept the ’Queen’s decree’ tucked away in my thoughts, a private joke to help me cope with the overwhelming reality of it all.

A national holiday... Haha. I mused, even as I shook the thought away with a tired smile.

I didn’t need a formal proclamation; the way the construction noise had already died down told me the workers had made their own executive decision the moment the news hit the air.

Noah’s voice boomed outside, followed by a roar of approval from the workers that made the tent walls vibrate. He was definitely in his element, playing the herald and the king, while I hid away in my sanctuary.

Robin and his weavers bowed one last time, their woolly capes rustling softly as they backed out of the tent.

"It is a blessing, Land-Mother," Robin whispered, his eyes crinkling with a warmth that made me feel less like a ruler and more like a neighbor getting friendly visits. "We shall leave you to your lambs."

As the flap fell shut, the tent finally grew quiet again. The morning sun was hitting the canvas now, turning the interior into a warm, golden cocoon. The sharp scent of the forest and the salty tang of Thalor’s skin settled into a comfortable, domestic hum.

I leaned back against the thick furs, pulling the babies into a row against my chest. They were already losing the battle with their heavy eyelids.