The Ruby Empire

Ravi the Rakshasa

Female Reader x Male Monster

You were excited about the festival. It was an event your father put on every year to celebrate and thank the people of the village. Your father was a nobleman but he was kind and generous to his people. He was much well loved outside his home as he was in it. You were the only daughter out of five boys and the youngest as well. You were ready to admit your father did spoil you. But he also made you and your brothers understand hard work and the value of what you had.

It never occurred to you that your father was seen as eccentric by his friends. When you joined the events your family threw you heard what people whispered behind his back. The whole thing it sent you crying to your room. It took you a while to build up a thick skin. Your brothers explained that the only reason they did that was because they weren't good people.

"People like that are always miserable," your brother explained. "They have to make themselves feel better by talking horribly about others. Especially people like dad and us. You have to pity these people." He wiped your face dry. "They don't know how to be happy without stepping on someone else's toes."

"What an awful way to live," you blubber.

"It is. So when you hear people talk shit, just realize you're happier than they have ever been. We win! Get it?"

You shake your head. "I don't want to win that way. I don't want to be in competition with these people."

He smiles and pinches your nose. "I know. Maybe you're the best of all." He takes your hand. "Come on. I'm sure dad will want a dance with you."

To be honest, you don't much care for the balls or the feasts anyways. You much prefer your room or sitting in the kitchen with the staff. They're the kind of people you enjoy being around. You feel as if you can understand them. Most of them you've known from the moment you were born.

Your chef is a Rakshasa woman from the east. She's been your mother's best friend since before your parents married. She came with your mother and she swore she'd die with her too. She was the best chef in all the districts and she was the best person you'd ever met.

"My son works for the king back home," she tells you. "He worries me." She feeds you your favorite sweet rolls and melts you butter for them. "He sends me letters telling me all these stupid moronic things. 'I got stabbed again Ma. Oh, I lost my eye this time Ma. Ma you should see the new medal they gave me.'" She scoffs and rolls her eyes. "The damn fool is trying to kill me." He growls and her lip curls up, showing the gold fang she loves.

"Why didn't you son come with you?" You ask.

"He wants me to come back home. I want him here with me. Sure he's scarred from his toes to his ears but he's a beautiful boy. I'd love for him to come work for your family and I can keep him from losing his last eye." She shakes her head and pets your hair. "But we both have different callings in our lives. He wants to fight for his kingdom and I want to cook."

You smile. "Do you miss your home, Mali?"

He shrugs. "I've been here over thirty years. I think I've found my place in the universe. I wouldn't mind a visit, but then I'd miss all of you."

When preparations for the festival were under way your father and mother took her aside. They offered her a chance to go home to see her son or even bring him here. After some correspondence not only was her son coming to visit but the Rakshasa royal court was as well. Of course, everything changed then. The regular festival preparations were kicked into high gear. It became something more than a festival of the people, it became the biggest event in all the districts!

When the royal court arrived Mali stood with you and your mother. She was dressed in her finest robes and headdress. You'd never seen Mali look so beautiful. The Rakshasa king was a massive white tiger. His queen was a beautiful young woman. They had twin boys, also white tigers, they were both barely five years of age.