The Spoilt Beauty And Her Beasts-Chapter 600: Village Recognition

By the time the first thin flakes of snow appeared in the sky, the village had changed.

The new watchtowers on the hills stood like quiet guardians. The reinforced walls felt more solid under the hand. The storage pits were filled, and the smell of dried meat, roots, and grains lingered in the air.

Most importantly, the way people looked at Isabella was different.

They had always respected her, especially after she began teaching them new things.

But now, that respect had grown into something deeper.

She noticed it one morning when she stepped out of the stone palace with her fan in hand.

"Goddess, be careful of the ground. It is slippery," one of the older aunties called out.

Isabella paused.

"Do not call me that," she said. "I am not a goddess."

Isabella for some reason was not in the mood to be addressed as a goddess today.

Maybe because pregnancy really made her tired and irritated nowadays. If her friends were to hear the words that just came out of her mouth.

They may even think she might have been possessed.

The auntie smiled. "If you are not, then there are no goddesses in this world."

A younger woman carrying firewood hurried past and nodded respectfully. "Morning, Goddess."

Isabella pressed her fingers to her temple.

It was not only the females.

Several men who passed by nodded to her with deep seriousness.

"Lady Isabella."

"Goddess Isabella."

She felt as if the word was sticking to her clothing.

"They started saying it more after you cut those poachers," Bubu said in her mind. [And after you protected the mountain beast. And after you set rules. And after you banned outsiders from taking females.]

"I only did what needed to be done," Isabella replied silently.

[Most people do what they are forced to do,] Bubu answered. [You are doing what you want to do. That looks different to them.]

As Isabella walked through the village, she could hear whispers behind her.

"Future queen."

"She really will be our queen one day."

"Look at the way the king stands behind her. He already treats her like one."

She wanted to pretend she did not hear.

But her ears were sharp.

She did not know whether to feel embarrassed or amused.

If you call me this now, what will you call me when I actually take over half the beast world?

(And she is back)

She flicked her fan open and closed.

Children were playing nearby. They ran around with small tails swinging, chasing each other between the houses.

When they saw her, their eyes lit up.

"It is the goddess!" one of them shouted.

She did not have the energy to correct them again.

The children rushed over and circled her like a tiny storm of short legs and waving arms.

"Isabella, Isabella," one little boy said, craning his neck to see her belly. "Are the babies awake?"

"Do they kick?"

"Will they come out with stripes?"

"Or with no stripes?"

A little girl with braided hair tugged on her skirt and looked up with bright eyes.

"Will they have lion stripes like the king," she asked, "or pretty colors like Cyrus, or black hair like Zyran, or shiny feathers like Osiris?"

The question made several adults nearby listen more closely.

Isabella looked down at her own round belly.

Inside, the babies did not care about stripes or colors. They only cared about food and space.

"They will come out however they want," she said. "If they come out with stripes, you do not laugh at them. If they come out without stripes, you also do not laugh at them."

The little boy looked serious. "We will not laugh. We will only play with them."

Another child poked her stomach gently with one finger. "Can they hear us?"

"If you shout too loudly, they will kick you back," Isabella said.

The children’s eyes lit up. They leaned in closer and started talking excitedly to her belly.

"Hello, little princes."

"We are waiting outside. Come out after winter."

"Bring snacks when you come."

Isabella felt her stomach move slightly.

Maybe the babies were turning around. Maybe they were just reacting to her own laughter.

Either way, her mood lifted.

She noticed someone standing at the edge of the group.

Cyrus had stopped a short distance away, a basket in his hand.

He watched the children poking her stomach and asking about stripes.

The mention of stripes made his shoulders stiffen.

He was born without stripes. Even though normal snake beastmen usually have stripes. All his life he had never gotten one and still he was stronger than beasts with 4 stripes.

He knew very well that in this world, stripes were often seen as a symbol of strength and rank. But his own bloodline was different.

Without the usual signs that others used to judge themselves.

He suddenly imagined small hatchlings coming out with mixed features.

Scales and stripes.

What if people realized something was wrong with him and started questioning him.

What if they are not accepted by either side?

Uncertainty crept into his chest.

He loved the babies already. He would love them no matter what they looked like. But he could not stop the small knot of worry forming inside him.

Will they suffer because of me?

Isabella looked up at that moment and caught his expression.

She could not read all his thoughts, but she saw the unease.

"Cyrus," she called.

He quickly adjusted his face and walked over, placing the basket down.

"I brought fresh fruit," he said. "The ones you said did not taste like dirt."

The children scattered for a moment to see what was inside, cheering when they saw the colors.

Isabella patted the space beside her.

"Come here."

He sat down a little awkwardly, his body always careful not to get too close to her belly.

She picked up a fruit slice and held it up.

"Say something to them," she said.

He blinked. "To who?"

"To the hatchlings," she replied.

He hesitated.

"I do not know what to say," he admitted.

She looked him straight in the eye. "Then start with this. Tell them their father is not allowed to think stupid things about them. Tell them they will be loved no matter how they look."

His heart jumped.

She really...

He swallowed.

He placed his hand gently near, but not on, her belly.

His voice was soft.

"Little ones," he said, "when you come out, it does not matter if you have stripes or not. It does not matter if you look like snakes, lions, or something strange. I will love you anyway."

His ears turned slightly red as the words left his mouth.

The children around them giggled. "He is shy."

Isabella’s lips curved.

Her hand covered his for a brief moment.

Inside, Bubu’s screen flickered.

[Small hidden fear detected. Small hidden reassurance given. Emotional connection strengthened.]

"Stop narrating my life," Isabella said in her mind.

[You are the one who keeps making it interesting,] Bubu replied.

As the children chattered on and the adults watched from a respectful distance, Isabella sat in the middle of the village with her round belly.

They called her Goddess.

They whispered Future Queen.

She did not know exactly what title she would end up with.

For now, it was enough that this small village, with its patched houses and stone palace, had already started to feel like the center of a new world.