The Ugly Duckling Of The Tiger Tribe

Chapter 352: A Traditional Naming Ceremony

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.

"Really? Right here in front of the workers?" I whispered, smirking down at him.

"I am just ensuring... that it is still there," he replied with a straight face, his violet eyes twinkling.

"Yeah, well, it’s not like marks can move. You’ve got to quit it, okay? If Noah sees you ’checking’ me again, he’s going to start a wrestling match in the middle of my foyer."

He nodded, twisting his lip a little regretfully.

As for the ’marking’ and the ’ruts’? Yeah, that was on indefinite suspension.

I couldn’t even think about a three-day ’romantic’ getaway when I had three kids who currently treated my sleep schedule like a suggestion they chose to ignore. The men were grumpy, sure—Noah was practically vibrating with pent-up energy, and Fenric was more restless than a caged cat—but one look at their kids usually settled them down.

Hard to be a primal beast when you’ve got a baby drooling on your collarbones, haha.

"Hey, Boss!" Noah yelled from across the hall, Phina now happily chewing on his earlobe. "The Sheep Tribe brought those ’teething ropes’ you asked for! Do I give them to the kids, or can I use one to tie myself to a tree so I don’t lose my mind?"

"Give them to the kids, King!" I yelled back, wiping a smudge of charcoal off my forehead. "And keep your ears away from Phina’s gums! I told you, she’s a biter! Teeth or not, she’ll rip your ear off."

He laughed.

"Noted,"

The sight of Noah trying to protect his ear from a gummy, yet surprisingly powerful, assault was enough to make me forget the exhaustion for a split second. Phina wasn’t playing around; she had that glint in her eyes—the one that said she was 100% her father’s daughter, just with significantly more destructive potential and zero concept of ’personal space.’

"Noah, seriously, use the rope!" I called out again, laughing as he danced away from another reach of her tiny, grasping hands.

I turned back to my slate, but I could feel the eyes of the workers still lingering on us. It wasn’t just the babies; it was the way we were functioning. A month ago, this kingdom had just a few civilized points, and then the construction began. There was a lot of uncertainty, as no one knew what I was up to, no one knew how this ’labor’ would benefit them. But now, they have seen it.

They had seen my vision and finally felt like they were building a real kingdom with their own hands.

They were in high spirits. Why wouldn’t they? The sight of their formidable king and a beastwarrior being reduced to human climbing frames as they worked on the construction had done more for morale than any of my speeches ever could. My presence, too, had played a strong role in that.

Fenric walked over, Raiden now finally quiet as he gnawed on a piece of the braided sheep-wool rope. The white-haired baby looked up at me, his red eyes momentarily soft before he went back to his task of trying to dismantle the fiber with his gums.

"The east support is set, Arinya," Fenric said, his voice dropping to that low, private rumble. He shifted his weight, the leather harness creaking. "But the workers are asking about the ’Naming Ceremony.’ They want to know when the Land-Mother will officially present the names to the spirits of the valley."

I paused, the charcoal hovering over the stone.

"The spirits, huh? I thought we were all about limestone and drainage these days."

Just where did the talks of spirits come from?

"They need the tradition," Fenric replied, his gaze moving to Lyra, who was still tucked against Thalor’s chest like a silver treasure. "It makes the foundation feel... permanent. Not just for us, but for them."

I looked around at the rising walls, the dust dancing in the shafts of sunlight, and the three men who held the babies with so much care.

Hm, naming ceremony.

The ’Naming Ceremony’ was a big deal in this part of the beast world, as I had come to know. It was the moment a child was recognized by the tribe, moving from pup or cub to a real member of the pack.

It’s not like we’re giving them new names to be recognized by, but just so the ’spirit of the tribe’ and ancestors guide the lives of the children as they grow, I think. Still trying to grasp the concept properly.

"Alright," I sighed, a tired but genuine smile tugging at my lips. "Tell them we’ll do it when the roof of the new great hall is closed. I’m not presenting my babies to the spirits while there’s still a risk of bird poop falling on their heads."

Fenric snorted, a rare, genuine spark of amusement in his eyes.

"I will relay the message. ’No bird poop’ is a standard they can understand."

Thalor, still seated nearby with his hand resting near my ankle, looked up curiously.

"In the deep, we sing the names to the currents so the water carries them to the furthest reefs. Perhaps I could... contribute?"

"Only if you don’t expect me to dive under a thermal vent to do it, Thalor," I teased, reaching down to ruffle Lyra’s silver hair. She didn’t wake, but she leaned into the touch, a tiny, satisfied sigh escaping her.

The morning was slipping into a hot afternoon. The ’Royal Transport System’ was holding up, the rounded corners were being carved, and despite the ’indefinite suspension’ of our romantic lives, there was a heavy, sweet sort of peace settling over the West Way.

I might be a glorified pack mule, and I might smell like sour milk and limestone dust, but as I looked at my chaotic, beautiful family, I realized that the ’aesthetic’ of my life was exactly where it needed to be.

"Hey, Noah!" I yelled, seeing him finally manage to get the teething rope into Phina’s mouth. "Don’t get too comfortable! Once the sun hits the meridian, we’re checking the septic lines!"

"Septic lines?" Noah groaned, his voice echoing through the hall. "Can’t we just declare another holiday?"

"No! Work, King! Work!"

I went back to my blueprints, the sound of hammers and baby babbles forming the soundtrack of my new empire. We had a palace to build, and for the first time, I wasn’t just building it for a year—I was building it for forever.

The West Way was growing, the palace was rising, and my life was a complete and utter disaster, but I loved every second of it.