Interstellar Beast World: All My Husbands Are Powerful and Rich!-Chapter 83: Fair, right?

"When you come back," Rory said with playful sweetness, her voice lilting as though she were merely teasing, "you’ll have to entertain me every single night. You’ll sing for me, and you’ll dance for me—until I fall asleep."

The image that immediately followed in her mind was vivid to the point of being dangerous.

A breathtakingly handsome man, tall and powerfully built, his sculpted muscles outlined beneath nothing but a translucent veil. He would move for her atop an enormous bed that stretched impossibly wide—nearly a hundred feet across—while lush green leaves swayed overhead.

His sleek, dark-purple tail would coil around her leg, warm and possessive, drawing her closer with every slow movement.

The thought alone sent a surge of heat rushing through Rory’s body so abruptly that she nearly panicked. Her face burned, her heart raced, and she was fairly certain that if she let her imagination run even a second longer, she might actually get a nosebleed.

"Okay—nope, that’s enough," she blurted out.

Before Jasper could notice the way her expression had shifted or the flush creeping across her cheeks, Rory abruptly ended the call.

Sing. Dance.

Those were reasonable requests—at least on the surface.

Singing, Jasper could manage. His pitch was steady, his voice clear. Dancing, however... that was another matter entirely. The idea of twisting his body, moving deliberately and sensually, especially in front of his beloved huntress, made heat crawl up his neck and spread through his entire serpentine form.

Still, it was Rory’s request.

Which meant he had no choice.

After a long, conflicted pause, Jasper clenched his jaw and activated his light-brain, searching for instructional recordings of male dancers. What he found left him genuinely stunned.

There were countless styles—some men radiated raw dominance, others moved with elegant restraint, and some danced with an unashamed, fiery sensuality that bordered on obscene.

A few performances even involved stripping away layers of clothing as they moved; if not for system restrictions, several of those dancers would have undoubtedly gone completely nude.

As Jasper scrolled, his thoughts spiraled.

What kind of dance would Rory like best?

Graceful? Bold? Playful?

After a moment, his resolve hardened.

Maybe... I should just learn all of them.

Unaware of the internal storm she had caused, Rory leaned back in her chair and pressed a hand to her chest, willing her racing thoughts to settle. Nearby, Burnt Dumpling sat with his tiny mouth pinched shut, pouting dramatically. While Rory still couldn’t understand most of his chirps, she had learned to read his expressions well enough.

"I know you don’t want a mate," she said gently, crouching beside him. "I only said that to distract Jasper. He was spiraling again."

She smiled reassuringly.

"Don’t worry. I’m not actually finding you a partner."

At once, Burnt Dumpling relaxed, his tense posture loosening as relief washed over him.

Nearby, Kather, who had overheard the call, watched Rory with quiet focus. He had seen her pinch her own skin, had watched the tears she forced into her eyes, and had understood exactly what she was doing. Every exaggerated demand, every playful accusation—it had all been carefully crafted to pull Jasper out of his guilt and anchor him back to her.

And it had worked.

Jasper truly believed she still needed him.

A faint ache stirred in Kather’s chest.

When I recover... he wondered, will she ever look at me the same way?

He didn’t dare hope for much. Even a fraction of the warmth she showed Jasper would be enough.

"Go on," Rory said, releasing Burnt Dumpling. "Go play."

The little creature scampered off eagerly in search of Nix. Once they were gone, Rory retrieved a slender needle from her storage band. Without hesitation, she pricked her fingertip. A single bead of blood welled up, vivid and ruby-bright, before falling onto the bark of the Divine Tree.

She watched closely as the droplet sank into the wood.

Running her fingers gently over the leaves, she spoke in a low, playful tone.

"You absorbed my blood and only managed two leaves in three days. That’s not very impressive, you know."

She tilted her head, eyes glinting.

"How about we make a deal? One leaf per day."

Her smile widened.

"If you can manage that, you’ll reach six leaves much faster—and then you can bloom. Once you bloom, I’ll give you another drop of my blood. Fair, right?"

She waited a beat, then nodded decisively.

"You didn’t say no. I’ll take that as agreement."

Inside the tree, Yuel, who had only just regained consciousness, nearly lost his mind.

Female Master... he thought weakly. Could you spare even a shred of mercy for me?

He could barely maintain awareness, let alone return to a humanoid form. Growing two leaves in three days had already pushed him to his limit. One leaf per day was nothing short of impossible.

Still, as Rory left for the bath, Yuel forced his remaining strength outward. His two leaves trembled as he desperately drew energy from the beast cores buried beneath his roots, straining to produce even the slightest sign of new growth before dawn.

Exhausted, Rory skipped cooking altogether. She took a quick shower, drank a nutrient fluid, and collapsed into bed. Night settled over the spatial stone. Outside the wide window, moonlight poured in, bathing the room in silver.

The Divine Tree’s deep blue branches shimmered faintly, releasing threads of soft light that drifted toward Rory as she slept.

In her dreams, a man appeared.

He wore a crisp white shirt, collar slightly open, revealing elegant collarbones. Dark hair framed a refined, gentle face, and thin glasses rested on his nose. When he smiled, warmth radiated from him—quiet, steady, and comforting.

Rory felt as though she were standing in a soft spring breeze.

"Female Master," Yuel said gently, his voice smooth and calm. "Forgive me. It has taken far too long to see you again... and even now, I can only appear like this."

He reached out, brushing his fingers against her cheek before pressing a tender kiss to her brow. A faint scent of greenery surrounded her, and the warmth of his touch sent a ripple through her dream.

Rory stirred.

Female Master...?

The name echoed softly as she began to wake.