The Ugly Duckling Of The Tiger Tribe

Chapter 351: They’re growing-Maybe a little too fast

The first morning back at the construction site was a vivid reminder that while I was the ’Queen’ and the ’Land-Mother’, I was currently mostly a glorified pack mule for three tiny humans who didn’t understand the concept of a deadline.

"Noah, if you move her like that one more time, she’s going to barf all over your royal ego," I muttered, adjusting the straps on my own leather hip-carrier.

We had spent half the morning inventing what I called the ’Royal Transport System.’ Since my arms needed to be free to point at structural flaws and wave blueprints around, the guys had been drafted as official baby-carriers. Congratulations.

Noah had Phina perched on his shoulders. She was currently using his black hair as a set of reins, tugging with a strength that made the Great Wolf King wince every few steps.

I even felt for the poor guy.

"Are you going to be okay?" I asked.

"She’s just showing her leadership skills, little tiger," Noah grunted, though his eyes were watering as Phina gave a particularly enthusiastic yank. "Ouch! Okay, maybe she’s showing her desire for a scalp trophy."

To my right, Fenric was a walking fortress. He had Raiden strapped into a heavy-duty chest harness we’d rigged out of cured deer hide. Raiden looked like a miniature, grumpy version of his father—pale skin, shock of white-and-black hair, and red eyes that were currently narrowed at a group of stone-cutters who were working too loudly.

Then, he tried to mimic the sounds, and I laughed.

"He’s growling, Fenric," I pointed out, leaning over to poke Raiden’s chubby cheek. "He’s literally making a tiny motor sound at the workers."

"He doesn’t like the rhythm of their hammers," Fenric said seriously, as if the three-month-old were a master mason. "He thinks the strike is too shallow and he can make better sounds."

"Sure, Fenric. He’s a critic already. Great."

Ah, three months and they were already so big. Maybe it was because they were beast babies that they were growing so fast.

Well, it didn’t matter. Grow faster, my babies, hehe. I wanna see you all grown up so we can see the world together.

Then there was Thalor. He had Lyra tucked into a soft sling across his chest. It was the most peaceful sight on the site. Lyra was just... staring. Her emerald eyes didn’t miss a thing, her silver hair shimmering in the sun. She didn’t wiggle, she didn’t scream; she just watched the limestone blocks rise like she was memorizing the blueprints for her own future reign.

Ah, I have a feeling Phina’s going to have a bit of a hard time if Lyra decides she can rule this kingdom better than anyone else.

I’ll cross that bridge after coming back from my world tour with my kids.

"She is very quiet," Thalor whispered, his hand resting protectively over her back. "Is it normal for a land-child to be this... observant? It’s like she’s counting the stones."

"She’s a Damar-copy, Thalor. She’s probably plotting how to fire the architect," I joked, though a little pang hit my chest at the thought of her father.

Damar is usually so quiet and never misses a single detail.

As we walked onto the main floor of the rising palace, the workers didn’t even try to pretend they were busy. They all stopped, staring in awe at the ’Task Force.’ It was quite the sight: a Wolf King, a Snow Tiger, and a Merman Prince, all decked out in baby gear.

"Don’t mind us! Just a regular day of building an empire!" I announced, my voice echoing off the new limestone walls.

But I was quite paranoid and kept my eyes on all three of them as they held the babies.

"Noah, stop flexing for the weavers. Phina is slipping. Fenric, if Raiden bites that leather strap one more time, he’s going to have a permanent hide-taste. And Thalor," I called, and he looked at me with a genuine blink.

I narrowed my eyes. There was no comma in his performance.

"Carry on. You’re doing a great job."

Almost so that I could suspect him of having been a father before, but the real guy who had multiple children wasn’t even half as good as he was, and Thalor was a merman. He couldn’t possibly have had children on land before. Unless...

I stared at him suspiciously, but shoved the useless thought away.

That’s not possible. I thought. Well, it was possible, but I don’t think Thalor’s that kind of guy. Lyra is usually a good judge of character, you know.

I walked over to the central columns. They were massive, braced with ironwood and reinforced by Thalor’s underwater supports. 1

"Okay, we need to talk about the nursery wing. I’m scrapping the original stairs. They’re too steep. If one of these three decides to take a tumble, then I might as well tumble with them and leave all the panicking to the husbands."

"But the aesthetic—" Noah started.

"The ’aesthetic’ can bite me, Noah." Since I taught him about what aesthetics are, he’s been so obsessed with the perfection of the palace. "I want rounded corners on everything. If I see a sharp edge in the living quarters, I’m making whoever carved it change the next ten ’leaky’ napkins. Capisce?"

The mention of the diapers made all three men shut up instantly. The fear of the ’napkin duty’ was the only thing more powerful than their warrior instincts.

"Rounded corners it is," Fenric muttered, already signaling the stonemasons.

The morning turned into a blur of heat, dust, and the constant smell of baby spit-up. I was leaning over a large slab of slate, scratching out the new floor plan for the play area, when I felt a familiar cool presence at my ankle.

I looked down. Thalor was sitting on a low stone, Lyra still fast asleep in his sling, but his hand was wrapped firmly around my ankle—right on top of his indigo mark.

Note that ironwood is a type of hard tree wood, but it is not metal.