Villainess is being pampered by her beast husbands-Chapter 423 --
"What are you doing?"
At her question, Veer’s smile brightened slightly. He sat down in front of her again, fingers moving through the flowers with easy familiarity.
"Choosing flowers for the wedding, sweetheart."
Kaya’s gaze drifted back to the bouquet in his hands, then slowly returned to his face.
...
She didn’t say anything.
What could she say, really?
Ask him why he was so calm? Why he acted as if nothing strange had happened at all?
No. That would be pointless. Idiotic, even.
So Kaya remained silent, watching the flowers as Veer continued tying them together—each knot neat, each color carefully placed—while the room stayed unnervingly, painfully normal
Kaya shifted slightly in her seat, her gaze lingering on the bouquet before lifting to Veer.
"Why... are you the one choosing the flowers?" she asked quietly.
Veer’s fingers paused for a moment. Then he smiled, the kind that carried memory rather than amusement.
"It’s our tradition," he said. "Here, the male brings the flower bouquet to the female."
He gently turned one of the sunflowers, making sure it faced upward.
"It started a long time ago," he continued, voice calm and unhurried. "Back when beastmen lived more in the wild than in houses like this. We didn’t have jewels or vows written on paper. Flowers were the only thing we could offer without taking anything away."
He glanced at her briefly before looking back at the bouquet.
"Each flower was chosen by hand. Picked carefully. It showed patience. Intention. If a male was careless, the bouquet would fall apart before he even reached her."
Veer tied another stem, his movements steady.
"If the female accepts the bouquet, it means she accepts him—his presence, his protection, his feelings."
A small pause.
"And if she doesn’t," he said softly, "she rejects it. Completely."
Kaya’s eyes returned to the flowers.
They weren’t decorations.
They weren’t for the wedding.
They were an offering.
Her hands stayed in her lap. She didn’t reach out.
But she didn’t look away either.
The silence between them settled—quiet, heavy, waiting.
Kaya shifted slightly in her seat, her gaze lingering on the bouquet before lifting to Veer.
"Why... are you the one choosing the flowers?" she asked quietly.
Veer’s fingers paused for a moment. Then he smiled—not playful, not smug. The kind of smile that looked like it belonged to an old memory.
"It’s our tradition," he said. "Here, the male brings the flower bouquet to the female."
He adjusted one sunflower with his thumb, turning it until it faced upward, like it mattered where it looked.
"It started a long time ago," he continued, voice calm and unhurried. "Back when beastmen lived more in the wild than in houses like this. We didn’t have jewels. We didn’t have vows written on paper." His hands kept moving, slow and sure. "Flowers were the only thing we could offer without taking anything away."
His gaze flicked up to her—brief, careful—then returned to the bouquet.
"Each flower was chosen by hand. Picked carefully." He tucked a stem into place. "It showed patience. Intention." Another knot, neat and tight. "If a male was careless, the bouquet would fall apart before he even reached her."
Kaya didn’t interrupt. Her face stayed still, but her eyes followed every small movement of his hands.
Veer tied another stem, his fingers steady like he’d done this before—or like he’d practiced in his head.
"If the female accepts the bouquet," he said, "it means she accepts him. His presence. His protection. His feelings."
A small pause.
"And if she doesn’t," he added softly, "she rejects it. Completely."
Kaya’s gaze dropped back to the flowers.
They weren’t decorations.
They weren’t just for a wedding.
They were an offering.
Her hands stayed in her lap. She didn’t reach out.
But she didn’t look away either.
The silence between them settled—quiet, heavy, waiting—like even the cave was holding its breath to see what Kaya would do next.
Kaya didn’t know what to say.
Everything felt too new, too strange—like she had stepped into a life that didn’t quite belong to her yet. She had agreed to the marriage, yes. She had nodded along, made her peace with it, or at least tried to.
Still...
Sometimes, when she looked at Veer, the expression on his face stirred guilt in her chest. The quiet devotion in his eyes felt heavier than any accusation.
But then her thoughts would drift back to the past few days.
To what had happened.
To how Veer had reacted.
And her mind would tangle all over again.
No matter how she looked at it, Kaya was just a human. She had no power. No special ability. Nothing that should make someone cling to her this desperately.
So why?
Why was Veer so fixated on her—as if he couldn’t live without her?
That question lingered, unanswered, tightening slowly around her heart.
Suddenly, the faint scent of food drifted closer.
Kaya lifted her head—and there he was.
Cutie.
Unlike her, he looked... frustratingly fine. Fresh, even. There was color in his face, strength in his steps. In his hands, he carried a small basket, steam rising gently from it.
Bread.
The kind she had taught him to make the last time.
God, she thought distantly, where did he even find an oven?
He walked up to the table and placed the basket down carefully, as if afraid to spill even the warmth inside it.
"Are you okay?" he asked softly. "Do you want to eat something? You must be hungry."
Kaya looked at him.
His expression was calm—too calm, just like Veer’s. Normal. Almost irritatingly so. But his ears...
They were red.
Ah. So at least something was showing.
Her gaze lingered for half a second before her thoughts spiraled elsewhere.
How did he even get in?
Her body stiffened slightly. Kaya’s fingers curled against her lap as she looked at him again, colder this time.
"How did you enter my room?" she asked.
Cutie blinked.
"If I remember correctly," Kaya continued evenly, "I closed the door. I even tied it."
