The Spoilt Beauty And Her Beasts

"They only acted foolishly," she said in a careful voice. "They came from a smaller place and saw too much too quickly, so their minds became greedy. That does not make them right, but perhaps it means they are more stupid than truly wicked."

The people around them shifted.

Some frowned.

Some listened.

Zara, seeing that she had gained a little attention, continued at once.

"A light punishment would be enough for them to learn. If they are beaten and cast out, or if they are made to work and repay what they did, then surely they will understand the weight of their mistake. Sometimes people only need to be corrected, not destroyed."

She said it gently.

Very gently.

As if she were only trying to see the good in everyone.

As if she were too soft-hearted to bear harsh punishment.

As if she truly cared.

The refugees who had been targeted looked furious at once.

One fox beastman porter, his cheek still split from the earlier fight, showed his teeth openly. The fur on his tail had already puffed up from anger, and it took visible effort for him not to shout over her. Another beastwoman who had been standing with the refugees narrowed her eyes so much that her pupils almost disappeared into slits. If not for the guards and the fact that Isabella had not spoken yet, she probably would have torn into Zara with her claws.

Some of the ordinary villagers wavered a little.

That was because Zara had spoken in such a soft and "good" way that for one small moment, it did sound as if mercy might make them nobler. A few people exchanged uncertain looks. A deer beastman elder near the back rubbed his beard slowly. One of the younger women lowered her eyes and looked conflicted. Even a tiger beastman guard near the side shifted his weight, because once the word light punishment entered the air, people naturally began imagining a path that looked less bloody.

Kian frowned.

His frown deepened with every word Zara said.

He did not like this at all.

He already disliked the woman herself, and now hearing her speak as if she had any right to shape the punishment inside his territory only made him more irritated. Worse, Isabella had been acting strangely kind around this so-called healer lately, and for one sharp second Kian truly wondered whether Isabella was about to take her words seriously.

If that happened, he would step in.

He already knew that.

The least gentle thing he was willing to accept here was banishment. Even that was already mercy, because being thrown out into this kind of winter could still kill. But allowing traitors to remain inside the village after they had tried to buy his people and rot the inside of his home from within?

Never.

Cyrus also felt uneasy.

He did not speak yet, but he watched Isabella closely from where she sat on his tail. His large hand remained near her side, warm and steady, and the red scales beneath her shifted only slightly as if even his beast body was attentive to her mood. Cyrus did not like Zara. He trusted her even less. However, when it came to Isabella, his trust still won. If she listened, then he would wait. If she spoke, then he would follow. That was simply how his heart worked when it came to her.

Zyran and Osiris who had just arrived heard everything.

Zyran, on the other hand, almost smiled.

Almost.

Because he knew Isabella well enough now to understand that when she listened too sweetly, somebody was usually about to regret being born.

So he said nothing and only watched with the lazy face of a black panther waiting to see a mouse walk deeper into the trap.

Osiris stood farther off, but even he had turned back from his own anger enough to listen. His expression was hard now, and the heat around him had not fully settled after earlier. He did not care at all about Zara’s gentle words. In his mind, traitors were traitors. The fact that this healer kept speaking so much only made her more annoying.

Shelia also felt herself growing colder inside.

Her instincts already disliked Mira, and the more the woman spoke, the more false she sounded. It was the kind of false goodness that made Shelia’s ears want to flatten with irritation. Ophelia, who stood not far from her, looked troubled too. Because she was kind, part of her still wanted to think about mercy. But another part of her, the part that had been growing more careful lately, kept remembering the way these same people had tried to turn Isabella’s own people against her.

Valen stayed beside Ophelia, his hand already finding hers without either of them needing to look. He felt her uncertainty and held her hand more firmly, grounding her in silence.

Luca and Asael both watched with narrowed eyes.

Luca looked especially irritated because he could already smell how twisted the whole speech was. Asael, who usually kept himself more disciplined, also looked unimpressed. To them, Zara’s words did not sound compassionate. They sounded meddlesome. Worse, they sounded like the kind of words spoken by someone trying to protect the guilty while pretending to stand on the side of reason.

Meanwhile, Zara kept speaking because she mistook Isabella’s silence for openness.

That was her mistake.

A fatal one.

Because Isabella was indeed listening.

She listened with a small smile on her face, and every now and then she even nodded as if she truly understood. She looked exactly like a ruler taking careful advice from a gentle healer who only wanted peace. That image was so convincing that a few more of the surrounding villagers began to think maybe mercy really should be considered.

That made Zara feel a flash of satisfaction.

There.

This was how it should be.

This was what she was good at.

Even if Isabella sat higher, even if these people all looked at her first, Zara could still move things with words. She could still make hearts bend. She could still make people listen.

So she finished in the softest voice she could manage.

"A lesson should be enough. Once they understand that this place is not to be betrayed, they will not dare do this again."

Then she finally lowered her eyes and stepped back as if she had said nothing more than what goodness required.

Silence followed.

Snow kept falling.

The kneeling traitors remained on the ground, some with hope flickering in their eyes now, because they too had heard the speech and understood what it meant. A few of them looked up just a little. One even swallowed as if his throat had suddenly grown dry from relief.

Isabella smiled.

Then she looked at the kneeling beastmen one by one.

She looked at the broken faces of the beastpeople who had refused betrayal.

She looked at the villagers whose trust had almost been tested by soft words.

She looked at the guards standing nearby with their claws half ready and their loyalty plain in their stances.

Then she looked at Zara.

For one brief moment, her eyes met Zara’s.

And in that moment, Zara finally felt it.

Something was wrong.

Very wrong.

Because the sweetness in Isabella’s face did not reach her eyes at all.

Then Isabella turned her head toward the surrounding guards, and her voice came out calm, clean, and completely without hesitation.

"Behead all of them and send their heads to their village."