The Spoilt Beauty And Her Beasts-Chapter 574: Planting Foods For Winter

The morning sun had just risen when Isabella stood before the village. A light wind lifted her hair, and the soft golden glow made her fair skin even brighter.

Behind her were many baskets, all filled with strange seeds, shoots, and small plants she had gathered during her journey.

The beastmen stood in rows before her. Their large figures cast shadows across the ground, but their eyes were focused completely on Isabella. Even the usually unruly ones were standing straight like obedient cubs.

Winter would come in three months. If they didn’t prepare, the entire village would struggle.

Isabella remembered clearly how ophelia had told her how hungry everyone was last winter. Their food stores had almost run out, and the men had to hunt every single day, even when snow had buried the forest floor.

This year would be different.

Isabella took a breath and pointed to the baskets. "Everyone, listen carefully. These are foods that can grow before winter arrives. When they grow, you will not have to eat only meat anymore."

A soft whisper ran through the men, but no one doubted her.

After everything she had done for the village, who dared not believe her?

She lifted a round brown root. "This grows underground. When it’s cooked, it tastes sweet and soft. You plant it in deep soil and water it every morning."

She pointed to a cluster of vines. "These climb and grow fast. If you give them support, they will produce many pods. Even more food."

The beastmen’s eyes slowly brightened. Some looked shocked. Some looked like excited children. A few rubbed their chins, imagining already how these plants would grow.

Isabella’s lips curled. "When everything grows, you won’t starve during winter."

Cyrus stood beside her, listening carefully. The way he stared at her made it seem like she had hung the moon in the sky with her bare hands. Every time she paused, he gently placed his palm on her waist, steadying her.

He didn’t say much. But whenever she spoke, he nodded proudly, as if her words were precious.

She held up another basket. "This one must be planted far apart so the roots have space. And this," she said, lifting something leafy, "needs more water than the others."

The men followed her instructions with serious expressions. Even Zyran, who usually made jokes, looked focused. Osiris tried to pay attention too, but he kept glancing nervously at the others, unsure if he belonged.

After Isabella finished her explanations, Cyrus leaned in slightly. "You spoke a long time. Go rest. I will make sure everything is planted correctly."

Isabella smiled softly. His voice was gentle, but there was unmistakable firmness in it. That was Cyrus. Once he took responsibility, he would never make mistakes.

She trusted him completely.

"Alright. I’ll leave it to you," she said, her eyes curling sweetly.

Cyrus kissed her cheek lightly. A few beastmen stiffened. Someone dropped a seed. Zyran squinted so hard his face almost folded.

"...Why does he get to kiss her?" a mutter escaped from the back.

"Is he showing off?"

"He always gets the best things..."

Cyrus ignored all of them, and Isabella pretended not to hear. She rubbed her stomach unconsciously, exhaling softly. Then she turned...

Shelia was standing nearby with Ophelia. Shelia looked much healthier than yesterday.

Her skin glowed faintly, her posture upright, her long hair flowing behind her. If not for the slight weakness in her steps, she looked like someone who had never been injured at all.

"Isabella," Shelia called gently. "You said you have something to show us. We gathered the women."

Ophelia nodded eagerly. "Yes! You promised to show us! We waited since dawn!"

Isabella blinked at the both of them, helpless but amused.

"You two are so impatient. I was going to call you later. Still, I do have things to show you." She paused for a moment, then her eyes lit up like she had seen treasure. "We can now make beautiful clothes and shoes."

Shelia gasped lightly. Ophelia’s entire body jolted.

"Clothes?" Ophelia clapped her hands. "Pretty ones? Real pretty ones?"

Isabella nodded. "Yes. And shoes that won’t fall apart after two days."

Shelia covered her mouth, her eyes shining with excitement. "You talked about this before... I didn’t think it would happen so soon."

"It will," Isabella said. "Come, let’s go."

The three of them hurried off, skirts fluttering behind them. Their voices drifted across the village—excited, bright, and overflowing with anticipation.

Cyrus watched them leave, shaking his head with a quiet smile before turning back to the men.

"Plant two rows on that side. Leave space between them," he instructed. "You, dig deeper. You, bring more water."

The men listened well. Even Kian helped silently, though he rarely involved himself in such tasks.

For a moment, everything felt peaceful.

...

Isabella walked ahead with a bounce in her step while Shelia and Ophelia followed closely behind.

"Isabella," Ophelia said, her voice still trembling from excitement, "how did you even make these? You really went far to get all those things?"

Shelia added, "It feels like a dream. Clothes... shoes... it sounds like such a luxury now."

Isabella puffed up proudly. "Hmph. Of course it sounds good. Once we start making them, none of you will complain about cold feet again."

Ophelia grabbed Shelia’s arm. "I want clothes that make me look beautiful! Even Valen won’t be able to take his eyes off me!"

Shelia blushed fiercely. "Ophelia!"

Isabella laughed. "Just wait. Once winter comes, you will both be the prettiest women in all the nearby villages."

The two women squealed softly. Isabella’s heart felt warm. She loved seeing them happy.

Behind them, Cyrus paused planting for a moment and looked toward the three. A warmth passed through his pink eyes. Then he returned to guiding the men.

...

"Isabella," Shelia called softly as they walked, "thank you."

"For what?" Isabella asked.

"For saving me. For helping the village. For... everything." Shelia lowered her head. "I was almost gone forever."

Isabella paused and reached out to squeeze Shelia’s hand. "Don’t think like that. You’re here now. And we still have so many things to make, so you better not disappear."

Shelia’s eyes reddened slightly. Ophelia immediately hugged her.

"It’s alright, it’s alright! We’re not letting you go anywhere!"

Shelia laughed through her sniffles.

They continued walking.

When they reached the weaving hut, Isabella pushed open the door dramatically.

Inside were baskets of fibers, softened bark sheets, strips of leather, bones carved into needles, and stones hollowed into dye bowls. The air even carried the faint fragrance of crushed flowers.

Ophelia’s jaw dropped. Shelia’s eyes went wide.

"Isabella..." Shelia whispered, "what is all this?"

"Materials," Isabella said proudly. "We’re going to make clothes. Not those rough skirts. Real clothes."

Ophelia placed her hands on her cheeks. "We’re going to be beautiful! Isabella, you are amazing!"

Isabella grinned. "Of course. Who else but me?"

The three women moved deeper inside, talking rapidly, touching fabrics, lifting dyes, wondering about patterns and shapes. Their excited voices filled the air like birds chirping around spring blossoms.

Outside, Cyrus stood under the sun, shovel in hand, watching the men work diligently.

He looked once more in the direction the women had gone and chuckled softly.

"She’s happy," he murmured. "That is enough."

Then he continued his task, guiding the village toward a future Isabella envisioned.