Villainess is being pampered by her beast husbands

To her right sat Veer, his feet propped up on the table, casually tossing an apple in the air. To her left sat Cutie, taking up three entire chairs just to accommodate his massive bulk, happily munching on a bowl of fresh berries.At the far end of the table sat the two representatives of her newly integrated army. First was Bram, a scarred, rugged Dog beastman who had naturally stepped up as the unofficial leader of the fifty original recruits. Next to him sat Sarn, the massive, green-scaled Python commander of the Snake guards. Sarn looked incredibly uncomfortable, his eyes darting nervously between Kaya and the Vulture chief.

"Alright," Kaya began, clasping her hands on the table. "Let’s get straight to business. We have a fortress, we have a treasury, and we have an army. But right now, we are a fractured mess. Bram, how are the recruits integrating with the guards?"

Bram scratched his ear, looking slightly intimidated by the luxury of the room. "Well, Boss... they’re confused. The Snake guards keep bowing to us, thinking we are some elite death squad. My boys are just trying not to ruin the illusion. But the food is good, and the walls are thick. Nobody is complaining."

"Keep up the illusion for now," Kaya ordered. "Train with them. Sarn, I want your elite guards to start running drills with Bram’s men. Mix the squads. I don’t want a Snake faction and a Recruit faction. I want one unified Free Clan army. If they sweat together, they’ll bond."

Sarn swallowed hard, his slit-eyes wide. "You... you want my elite, scaled warriors to train alongside unarmored drifters?"

"I want your elite, scaled warriors to teach those drifters how not to die," Kaya corrected sharply. "And in return, the drifters will teach your men what loyalty looks like when it’s not enforced by the threat of being eaten. Which brings me to my first official decree."

She stood up, leaning over the table.

"Rule number one of the Free Clan: No eating people. No eating prisoners, no eating servants, no eating enemies who have surrendered. We are building a society, not a butcher shop. If I catch anyone cannibalizing another beastman, Veer will personally throw them off the highest wall of this canyon. Are we clear?"

Sarn nodded frantically. "Crystal clear, My Lady."

"Rule number two," Kaya continued, her expression turning deadly serious. "Hygiene. I am not negotiating this. We have two thousand people living in close quarters. Disease will wipe us out faster than any invading army. From this day forward, all drinking water must be boiled. No exceptions. Waste is to be disposed of in the lower marsh pits, entirely away from the living quarters. Anyone handling food must wash their hands with lye soap. If I find out someone is causing a dysentery outbreak because they were too lazy to wash the mud off their hands, I will make them regret it."

Sarn and Bram exchanged profoundly confused glances. Lord Siss had decreed laws regarding taxes, tributes, and executions. He had never once mentioned washing hands. It was an entirely alien concept. But the sheer, terrifying conviction in Kaya’s voice made them nod in immediate agreement.

"Rule number three," Kaya said, sitting back down. "Meritocracy. I don’t care if you are a cold-blooded snake, a warm-blooded dog, a predator, or an herbivore. In this clan, your bloodline means absolutely nothing. You earn your rank through skill, loyalty, and hard work. Sarn, you surrendered the gate to save your men. That shows tactical pragmatism and care for your subordinates. That is why you are still a commander. Bram, you kept the recruits in line and organized the perimeter. You are now a captain. Prove your worth, and you will be rewarded. Betray this clan, and you will find out that I am vastly more creative than Lord Siss ever was."

Sarn looked at the human girl sitting at the head of the table. For the first time since he had surrendered, the terrifying image of Lord Siss’s severed head faded from his mind, replaced by a deep, profound sense of awe. This human wasn’t just a brutal conqueror. She was a visionary. She was establishing a system of fairness, structure, and survival that the chaotic beast world had never seen.

"We hear and obey, Clan Leader," Sarn said, pressing his fist to his chest in a genuine, deeply respectful salute. Bram mirrored the gesture immediately.

"Good," Kaya said, exhaling a long breath. "Now for the immediate crisis. Food. Cutie took inventory. The stores are massive, but with two thousand mouths to feed, we will burn through it in three months. We cannot rely entirely on hunting in the surrounding forests, and the toxic marsh limits agriculture. Ideas?"

Sarn spoke up, his confidence returning slightly. "Under Lord Siss, we relied heavily on raiding passing merchant caravans and extorting tribute from the smaller tribes in the West."

"We are not bandits," Kaya shot down instantly. "If we raid merchants, they will stop using the Western trade routes entirely, and we will starve. If we extort the smaller tribes, they will eventually unite and rebel against us. We need a sustainable economy."

Veer caught his apple, taking a loud, crisp bite. "We have the largest treasury on the continent, Kaya. We don’t need to raid the merchants. We can trade with them. We can hire them."

Kaya’s eyes lit up. "Exactly. We have thousands of high-grade steel weapons, raw ore, and gold. Bram, I want you to send riders out to the neutral zones. Find the merchant guilds. Tell them the Venom-tooth Canyons are under new management. Tell them the Free Clan is opening a highly secure, heavily guarded trade hub. We will offer them safe passage through the West, protection from bandits, and zero extortion taxes. In exchange, they bring us grain, livestock, and seeds."

"A trade hub?" Sarn murmured, astounded. "The other warlords use fortresses strictly for war. You want to turn the most terrifying canyon in the West into a marketplace?"

"Money and food win more wars than spears ever will, Sarn," Kaya said, a sharp, brilliant smile crossing her face. "If we control the flow of food and goods in the West, the smaller tribes won’t rebel against us. They will depend on us. We will buy their loyalty instead of beating it out of them."

That evening, the central courtyard of the Venom-tooth Canyons was unrecognizable.

Instead of the eerie, silent patrols of cold-blooded killers, the massive space was filled with roaring bonfires, laughter, and the mouth-watering scent of roasting meat. Kaya had ordered a massive feast to celebrate the founding of the Free Clan and to formally unify the Snake guards with the new recruits.

Cutie, practically vibrating with joy, had taken charge of the culinary operations. He had marshaled dozens of Snake servants, teaching them how to properly clean, spice, and roast meat over open flames. He even dug a massive, ten-foot-wide roasting pit in the center of the courtyard to make an industrial-sized batch of Kaya’s famous beggar’s chicken.At first, the Snake guards were highly skeptical of the cooked food. They were accustomed to eating raw, bloody game. But the moment the first clay shell was cracked open, releasing the intoxicating aroma of wild garlic, lotus leaves, and perfectly tender meat, their reptilian instincts were entirely overridden.

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