The Spoilt Beauty And Her Beasts-Chapter 589: You’re pregnant with my hatchlings. You should be resting
Isabella dipped the clean cloth into the hot water again and wrung it out softly. The beast lay still on the stone platform, its massive body rising and falling with every shallow breath.
Steam rose from its open wounds as the warmth helped soften the dried blood, revealing the deep gashes beneath. She worked gently, using slow circles to clean each part. The scent of iron mixed with herbs filled the air.
The beast flinched once when she touched the side of its face, but she whispered something under her breath and it went still again.
Time passed quietly. Even the usually noisy Zyran had not returned yet, and the guards outside had left to report back to their posts. The whole room felt heavy, like the air had paused to watch Isabella’s hands move.
After about five minutes, Cyrus, who had been standing close by and watching her work, finally couldn’t take it anymore. His brows furrowed deeper with each movement she made. When her shoulders shifted in a slow roll from discomfort, his heart twisted.
He stepped forward quickly and knelt beside her. "Let me help."
Isabella looked at him with mild surprise.
"I can’t keep watching you do all this alone," he added, already reaching for the second cloth she hadn’t touched yet. "You’re pregnant with my hatchlings. You should be resting."
His words made her heart stir a little, and she smiled softly. She looked at him for a moment longer before finally handing him the cloth.
"Then help me clean around the beast’s hind legs," she said. "Gently."
Cyrus nodded without hesitation and got to work like he had done this a hundred times before.
Not long after that, footsteps echoed from the palace entrance.
Kian entered, brushing aside the curtain with one hand. He had just returned from locking the prisoners up in the underground holding chamber and his hands were still faintly stained from handling the ropes.
When he saw Isabella crouched beside the wounded creature, his brows lifted slightly.
His sharp lion-like gaze scanned the scene once, then landed on Isabella. "Do you need help?"
At first, Isabella was going to brush him off. She had already started with Cyrus. She didn’t want too many people hovering. But then she looked at Kian again...his cold posture, his stoic face...and thought about how strange it would be to see someone like him helping.
She changed her mind.
"I need someone to grind herbs," she said. "It needs to be fine enough to paste onto the wounds."
Kian didn’t hesitate.
He walked over, took the mortar and pestle set on a nearby stool, and got to work like he had no reputation to protect.
His markings on his body that looked like tattoos flexed slightly on his bare arm as he ground the herbs without looking up. He looked like a cold general carrying out orders from a beloved empress.
To everyone else, he was a fearsome lion king. But right now, he looked more like a loyal beast waiting for a single word from its master.
Then came trouble.
Zyran and Osiris strolled in through the side entrance, chatting loudly until they saw the scene.
Cyrus wiping blood from the beast’s fur.
Kian grinding herbs without saying a word.
Isabella crouched like a gentle healer with glowing skin and a curved belly.
Both men stopped mid-step.
Zyran’s face immediately twisted into something dramatic. "Tch! Are we really letting them do everything?"
Without waiting for permission, he flung off the piece of hide slung over his shoulder and strode forward with too much confidence. "I’ll help. I’ve also cleaned wounds before! I can hold the beast’s tail or something."
"There’s no need to hold the tail," Isabella said calmly.
"I’ll still do it," Zyran replied with a grin, already kneeling on the other side of the beast. He didn’t even know what he was doing, but he started patting the beast like he was soothing a child.
Osiris remained standing awkwardly near the entrance.
He looked around the room like he had arrived at a party and all the chairs were taken.
The task of treating the beast seemed well-handled. Kian was grinding herbs with robotic precision, Cyrus was already halfway through cleaning the back legs, and Zyran... well, Zyran was being Zyran.
There was nothing left for Osiris to do.
He quietly took a few steps closer and tried to look useful. But all he ended up doing was staring at the others like a child who had been left out of the group game.
Isabella saw it. She was seated on a raised wooden chair positioned near the tree’s thick inner roots, rubbing her stomach gently. Her back had begun to ache from leaning over for so long. She noticed Osiris glancing from Zyran to Kian, then to Cyrus, then back to himself.
There was something so pitiful and funny about the way his eyes darted around like he was counting how many people were needed before someone noticed he didn’t belong.
She couldn’t hold back the smile that tugged at her lips.
"Osiris," she called gently.
His head shot up so fast it almost made her laugh harder.
"Come here."
He blinked twice. Then his whole face lit up like a torch had been lit behind his eyes. He walked toward her with fast, eager steps, nodding the entire way like he had been preparing to be called for hours.
"Yes? What do you need? Should I get something? Move something? Kill someone?"
"I want to eat something," Isabella said with a soft sigh. "I’m craving that fruit I had yesterday. The red one that looked like a flower."
"Yes! I know which one you mean." He turned to sprint off but stopped mid-step. "Do you want it peeled or crushed or..."
"Just get it fresh," she chuckled. "And bring water too."
He nodded furiously and dashed off like it was the most important mission of his life. 𝘧𝓇ℯ𝑒𝓌𝑒𝑏𝓃𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭.𝒸ℴ𝓂
A few minutes later, he returned with a small bundle in one hand and a gourd of water in the other. He knelt beside her chair and offered both with both hands like an offering to a queen.
She took the fruit and bit into it happily. "Mm. Thank you."
"Anything else?" Osiris asked immediately.
She looked up at him with half-lidded eyes. "Massage my back. My neck. Everything hurts."
He didn’t wait for a second request. He moved behind the chair and placed his hands on her shoulders, gently kneading the tense muscles.
His hands were warm and a little clumsy, but they were eager. It was clear he wanted to help, even if he didn’t know how to do it perfectly.
The sound of grinding stopped for a moment.
Kian’s head turned slightly, his expression flat.
Cyrus looked up from where he had been applying something similar to an ointment.
Even Zyran paused mid-pat.
They all watched Osiris’ hands move slowly across Isabella’s shoulders. They didn’t say a word, but their eyes said everything.
Osiris glanced at them with a smug smile. "Should’ve waited your turn."
Isabella bit back her laugh and let herself relax deeper into the chair. Her stomach was full, her shoulders were finally getting some relief, and the beast was breathing more steadily. The others could keep working.
She was enjoying this far too much.
And from the way the men were glaring at Osiris now, she knew...
They would never make that mistake again.
