The System Sent Me to Breed an All-Female Amazon Tribe

The Head Envoy seemed to be of the same beast race as the Beast Queen herself: a beautiful, purple-haired kitsune.

Her hair was a deep shade of violet, cascading down her back in silken waves, and her fox ears were tall and pointed, turning and twitching with alert awareness.

Her violet and dark kimono reflected her majestic status and high class, the fabric rich and intricate, embroidered with patterns that seemed to shift and change in the fading light.

The way she moved and carried herself… There was no mistaking it, this was—

“Where is he? Benjamin Mark, I mean,” were the very first words to escape her lips the moment she crossed the threshold.

She was desperately looking around to see if he would appear suddenly, her neck craning and her head swiveling in rapid, jerky motions, as if sheer force of will could conjure him from the empty air.

Did she think he was a heavenly spirit to be summoned?

Her voice was tinged with urgency, the careful composure of a diplomat crumbled in the face of her overwhelming need to find him.

Each syllable laced with a desperation that she could not mask behind pleasantries or formal greetings.

She was suddenly restless and frantic, her fox tail wagging uncontrollably behind her in a rapid, agitated motion that betrayed her inner turmoil completely, sweeping from side to side with the frantic energy of a trapped animal rather than the dignified sway of a visiting dignitary.

The elegant kimono she wore seemed to constrict her, her shoulders tense and hunched forward, her fingers gripping her hand fan with visible intensity, the delicate ivory ribs groaning under the pressure of her grip.

She was hitting her hand fan quickly on her palm, a sharp tap-tap-tap that punctuated every anxious breath, wearing a forced smile that stretched her lips thin and tight.

I turned to the person flanking her, a figure who looked less important in the grand hierarchy of diplomats, but undeniably professional in her bearing and attire: a deer person I recognized from previous encounters.

Her features were delicate and seemingly fragile, with large brown eyes that held an intelligence and demeanor that contrasted sharply with the frantic energy of her companion.

Her posture was straight and composed, her hands clasped neatly before her in a gesture of patient waiting.

This girl had replaced the agent of Shishi-no-su called Tensei when he suddenly departed from our lands, stepping into his role with efficiency and without the fanfare that his own departure had lacked.

And here I was thinking that the sisters of Verdant Spire’s attention would have drawn from Benjamin too.

I found myself wondering, why did Tensei have to leave so soon?

“It is good to see you again, Shikaseiri!” I ignored the fidgeting and frantic fox entirely, my voice warm and welcoming as I addressed the deer girl directly, offering her a true smile. “So you will be gracing our great land once again?”

“Hey, do not ignore me!” The purple fox’s voice was sharp with indignation, her fan snapping closed with a decisive click that rang through the entrance like a whip crack.

Her tail had stopped its frantic wagging and now stood straight up, bristled and tense, a clear signal of her displeasure.

Shikaseiri made a wry smile and giggled with a small voice, her delicate features softening with amusement at the exchange unfolding before her.

“Please, forgive her majesty,” she said, her tone gentle and placating. “She is not always like this, I assure you. The journey has been long and the anticipation has worn on her nerves.”

She paused, then continued, her brown eyes flickering with uncertainty: “And yes, I was tasked with joining the delegates this time, as you have already surmised.”

She glanced nervously at the lip-biting fox beside her, then asked, her voice dropping to a more hesitant register:

“But before we do anything else… where IS Lord Benjamin?” The question was delivered with a careful neutrality, as if she was trying to soften the blow of the fox’s desperation.

I sighed deeply and glanced pitifully at the jumpy fox whose ears were still pinned back and whose violet eyes were boring into me with naked hope.

Then I answered with a measured and calm voice: “Benjamin has gone on a long journey to Goliathens. I believe you all should have known this, as it was a duty he chose to do in order to make the Interracial Alliance stronger, a mission of his own volition and one that he undertook with great seriousness.”

“…Eh?” The purple fox woman’s eyes widened, her violet irises staring at me in disbelief, her mouth falling slightly open as the words sank in.

Her fan nearly fell off her hand, slipping precariously in her grip, dangling from her fingers by the barest hold.

“So… I missed him again.” The words were barely a whisper, fragile as ice, filled with a profound sadness that made my heart ache despite myself, a grief so raw and unguarded that I felt like an intruder witnessing a private wound.

Looking at the poignant smile she made—her lips curving upward even as her eyes narrowed with unshed tears, her jaw tightening as a stressed exhale left her mouth in a long, shaky breath—I realized that the woman in front of me was hopelessly in love with my husband.

It was a sharp and painful realization, a blade of understanding that cut through my diplomatic composure, a reminder that Benjamin’s charm was a force of nature that drew people to him, whether he intended it or not.

She had come all this way, traveled across continents, endured the rigors of diplomatic travel, and the endless formalities, all in the hopes of seeing one special person—of standing in his presence just once more.

And now she was faced with the reality of his absence, a hollow truth that no amount of royal composure could fill.

“You do not have to be so upset,” I smiled and assured her, my voice gentle and forgiving, reaching out with my tone to offer what comfort I could. “He surely will return soon, and I believe he remembers all of us in good lights—yourself included.”

She glanced at me and muffled a laugh, a small, surprised sound that escaped despite her efforts to contain it, then straightened her self and became composed in a single, fluid motion.

The transformation was swift, her posture shifting from dejected to regal, her expression smoothing from raw grief to polite formality, her tail lowering to a more dignified sway.

“I am sorry for the initial unsightly attitude,” she said, her voice now calm and measured, each word carefully chosen. “It was unbecoming of a princess, and I apologize for any distress I may have caused.”

She bowed a little, her head dipping in a gesture of respect that was perfectly executed, the grace of a woman raised in courts. “My name is Sumire, sister of Sakura the Beast Queen. I pray we learn a lot of your culture and ways… uh…”

She paused, searching for my name, her brow furrowing slightly in expectation.

“Sara,” I supplied, my smile warm and genuine. “My name is Sara, Strategos of the Hoplites of Verdant Spire. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

I bowed a bit as well, in respect, my eyes meeting hers with warmth and sincerity. “Welcome to Verdant Spire, Princess Sumire. We are honored to host you.”

We did some light introductions with the other officials, exchanging names and pleasantries, each delegate stepping forward to offer their title.

The lanes and paths of village were crowded with activity, the Amazons going about their daily routines with the efficiency and focus that defined our people, children chasing each other between the legs of adults, sentries patrolling the walls above.

The delegates looked around with surprised eyes, taking in the sights and sounds of our civilization, their heads turning this way and that to absorb every detail of our architecture, our dressed, and our apparent way of life.

I smiled genuinely in my heart, because this was only made possible because of my beloved.

***

It was a feast, a grand celebration due to the contest of strength that Rahab and Lady Violette had held in the afternoon, their clash of muscle and will nearly devasting the ecosystem.

The tables were laden with roasted meats, fresh fruits, and an array of dishes that showcased the bounty of our lands, from wine to spiced stews to honeyed pastries.

We Amazons drink more of milk, or herbal extracts, as a rule, preferring the simple nourishment of the earth to the intoxication of the fermented grape.

The wines were kept for guests, or when something worthy of celebration occurred, and tonight was one such night—a rare indulgence that the delegates seemed to appreciate, their cheeks flushing and their laughter growing louder as the evening wore on.

Mother had welcomed Sumire like a long lost sister, doting on her ever since they met, fussing over her plate, her goblet, and the warmth of her cloak.

The two of them were seated together, their heads bent in animated conversation, Mother’s warm giggles ringing out across the royal hall at something the princess had said.

It was good to see her so happy, so at ease, her stern demeanor softened by the presence of the fox princess, her weathered face creased with real joy rather than the stern lines of command she usually wore.