Villainess is being pampered by her beast husbands-Chapter 410 --

She spat, rinsed, finished her brushing as if being watched by an entire tribe in morning-after misery was normal, then turned and walked back toward her room.

Veer, Cutie, and the sparrow were still there.

As she reached the doorway, she stopped.

"Wait," she said.

All three straightened at once.

"Do you have a physician here who can do a full body... examination?" she asked.

Immediate panic.

Veer’s face drained of color. "What happened?" he blurted. "Are you sick? Is something wrong? Where does it hurt? I knew it—that’s why you were weird yesterday. Tell me where. I’ll get the best healer."

Cutie stepped in, eyes wide, voice soft but urgent. "Yes, tell us. I can check first. Is it your head? Your chest? Dizzy? Nausea?"

Hands came up toward her face, like they were going to check her temperature, her pulse, anything.

Kaya slapped them away, hard enough to sting.

"I said I’m fine," she snapped through gritted teeth. "I asked if there’s a doctor for a full body examination. For ’you’."

She jabbed a finger at Veer’s chest.

Veer blinked. Pointed at himself. "For... me?"

Veer just stared at her.

"Why?" he croaked, voice going slightly high. "Why do ’I’ need a doctor?"

He glanced down at himself, then back up, patting his own chest like he might find some hidden wound. "What do you think is wrong with me that I need an examination?"

Kaya met his eyes, completely serious.

"Because I’m going to marry you," she said. "So I want to know if you’re carrying any disease or anything. For my safety."

She shrugged, like it was the most normal thing in the world.

Veer went blank.

On one side, the sparrow slowly turned his head away, a smirk tugging at his beak, shoulders shaking like he was holding in laughter. Cutie’s mouth twitched once before he controlled it, eyes dropping to the floor.

Veer, meanwhile, felt like the ground had just opened under him.

He had never, in his entire reckless life, imagined someone would be so... wary of ’him’ that they’d want a doctor to check he wasn’t contaminated. He stared at Kaya, waiting for the punchline, for her to roll her eyes and say she was joking.

She didn’t.

Her expression stayed deadpan. Calm. Completely honest.

The realisation sank in: she meant it.

Veer was still stuck on the word "disease" when Kaya added, very calmly, "So. Is there a healer who can check you, or not?"

Ten minutes later he regretted saying yes.

They were in one of the inner treatment caves, the air smelling of herbs and smoke. An elderly vulture healer—with sharp eyes and even sharper fingers—stood in front of Veer, who had been bullied down to his undershirt, wings half‑unfolded.

"Arms out," the healer said.

Veer spread his arms, glaring at the far wall.

Kaya sat on a nearby rock, legs crossed, watching like she was inspecting a horse before buying it.

The healer prodded Veer’s shoulders, chest, ribs. "Breathe in. Breathe out." He pressed his ear to Veer’s back, listening. Tugged at his wings, checked the joints, flexed them up and out to full span. Veer winced when an old injury popped.

"Any pain?" the healer asked.

"Only in my soul," Veer muttered.

Kaya hummed. "Old fractures?" she asked.

"Two healed cracks in the left wing bone, one in the right," the healer replied, clinical. "All solid. He flies too hard, but nothing unstable."

He moved down, checking Veer’s hands, fingers, legs, balance. Made him stand on one foot, then the other. Veer wobbled, ears burning.

"Open your mouth," the healer said.

Veer bared his teeth like a sulking wolf. The healer peered in, tugged his jaw, checked his tongue, even pulled down his lower eyelids to look at the color.

Kaya leaned forward slightly. "Can he have children?" she asked, dead serious.

Veer choked on nothing. "Kaya—"

The healer didn’t blink. "No signs of infertility. Strong pulse. Good blood."

"Any... mental problems?" Kaya added.

Veer stared at her. "Excuse me?"

The healer tapped his temple thoughtfully. "Reckless. Impulsive. Tendency to throw himself into danger. But that’s not a disease. That’s personality."

The sparrow, perched on a shelf, snorted.

Kaya nodded like she was taking notes. "Shortened lifespan from injuries?"

"If he keeps flying into storms, yes," the healer said dryly. "If he uses his head occasionally, he should live long enough to annoy many people."

Veer covered his face with one hand.

The healer stepped back at last. "Physically sound," he declared. "Strong heart, lungs, bones. No visible illness. No parasites." He gave Veer a once‑over. "Aside from stupidity in judgment, he is... acceptable."

Kaya exhaled like a weight had shifted off her.

"Good," she said. "So if I die, it won’t be from catching something from him."

Veer looked like the world had just kicked him twice.

"You know," he said weakly, "other brides ask about dowry, not... parasites."

Kaya slid off the rock, walked up to him, and patted his chest once, almost kind.

"Relax," she said. "You passed."

Then she turned to the healer. "Thank you. Next time, check his brain again. Just in case."

The old vulture actually smiled. "Gladly."

Cutie had watched the whole thing like someone watching a slow accident.

Veer, half naked on the stone bed, getting his wings yanked and his mouth pried open. The healer poking him like a horse. Kaya sitting there with arms folded, eyes sharp, asking if he had parasites or mental problems.

By the time Veer dragged his shirt back on, ears red, pride bruised, the healer was already packing away his tools.

Kaya nodded once. "Good. Clean enough."

Veer made a wounded noise. "I’m not a fish, sweetheart."

Before the healer could leave, Cutie stepped forward.

"Excuse me," he said quietly.

All eyes turned to him.

Cutie bowed his head a little toward the healer. "If Kaya is worried about safety," he said, calm and polite, "then... I should be examined too."

Veer spun. "Why you?"