The Ugly Duckling Of The Tiger Tribe Chapter 321: You speak of ’play’ as if it is a chore, Queen

I didn’t stop to see if Noah followed . My heart was pounding, a mix of lingering anger and the sudden, heavy realization that I had just drawn a line in the sand with one of my husbands, sothing I had never done before.

But there was no ti to second-guess. I had a promise to keep, and twenty-four pairs of eyes were already waiting for the sun to rise tomorrow to know if they were going to chew out or praise .

I marched toward the northern edge of the clearing, the weight of the three cubs in my arms making my back ache with every step. I saw Oryn first, his massive dark fra towering over a pile of fresh pine logs. His n were moving with a focused grunt, their muscles bulging under the strain of the timber.

It felt like a lot for them, given they weren’t all massive bears like him.

"Oryn!" I called out, my voice cutting through the thud of the wood.

The bear-beastman turned, wiping sweat from his brow with a thick forearm. "Queen Arinya. We have the first load. Where is this ’Nursery Palace’ to stand? The elders usually prefer the young to stay near the inner dens."

"Not this ti," I said, adjusting Phina as she began to fuss against my chest. I pointed toward a wide, sloping adow I’d passed on the way to Oakhaven. It sat on a slight rise, catching the full warmth of the morning sun, with a clear view of the stream and the distant, blue-tinted mountains. "There. In the light. I want them to see the world they’re going to inherit, not be tucked away in the shadows of a cave."

Oryn looked at the spot, his small, round ears twitching. "It’s a fine piece of land. Plenty of soft grass for a fall. But it’s open, Queen. We’ll need a sturdy periter."

"Exactly," I said, stepping closer to his makeshift drafting table—a flat boulder covered in sawdust. "We’re building a fence first. High enough to keep the toddlers in, and strong enough to make any wandering predator think twice. But the nursery itself... it needs to be open. Large windows, even if we use shutters for now. Air and light, Oryn. That’s how you grow a pack."

I handed the cubs to a young sheep-girl who had been hovering nearby, looking eager to help. "Feed them the goat milk we prepared, and keep them warm," I instructed her softly.

She looked delighted to be given the privilege of taking care of my cubs, but I can’t say the sa for my cubs. They gave her eyes that I was sure ant they were going to be a nace to their new babysitter, haha, kids.

Then, I turned back to the charcoal sketches.

"Shall we get started?"

For the next couple of hours, the adow beca a hive of activity. I wasn’t just standing around giving orders. I was in the dirt, marking the post-holes with a sharpened stake, showing the beastn how to notch the logs so they’d fit together without gaps. My hands were soon stained with sap and earth, and the ache in my shoulders moved from a dull throb to a sharp burn.

"Like this," I grunted, showing a confused wolf-beastman and a short beaver beastman how to weave the heavy ropes for the ’jungle gym.’ "It needs to hold the weight of ten pups at once. If it snaps, I’m the one who has to answer to the mothers."

The n worked both silently and loudly, fueled by curiosity, uncertainty, and excitent. They’d never seen a female—let alone a Queen—get her hands this dirty. But every ti a beam was raised, or a floorboard was leveled, I saw the skepticism in Oryn’s eyes fade, replaced by a deep, grudging respect.

"You speak of ’play’ as if it is a chore, Queen," Oryn said as we paused to drink so water. "But the pups... they look happy when they run. I’ve never thought to build a structure just for that."

"Play is how they learn to trust each other, Oryn," I wiped my forehead, leaving a streak of mud behind. "If they learn to catch each other on a wooden slide, they’ll learn to protect each other on a battlefield. It’s that simple."

As the sun began to dip toward the horizon, casting long, amber shadows across the adow, I felt a familiar, heavy presence behind . I didn’t have to turn around to know who it was. The air always felt warr, more pressurized, when Noah was near.

I kept my back to him, focused on tightening a rope knot. "The post-holes are nearly finished," I said, my voice cool. "Oryn thinks we can have the roof on by midnight if we use the torches."

Noah didn’t answer right away. I heard the soft crunch of his boots on the grass as he walked up beside . He looked at the skeleton of the nursery—the strange, multi-level platforms, the beginnings of the log slide, and the wide, open floor plan.

"I went to the dens," Noah said, his voice unusually quiet. It lacked the booming authority of a King. "I saw Kael. He was telling his mother about the ’Tiger Lady’ and the ’Fish Scale.’ He asked if I was going to help build the ’playground’."

I finally looked at him. His eyes were dark with a conflict I’d never seen before—a mix of sha and a newfound, terrifying sense of duty.

"And what did you tell him?" I asked.

Noah looked at his hands—the hands that had led armies and broken enemies. "I told him I’d have to see if the ropes were strong enough first." He paused, his gaze drifting to the nursery. "You were right, Arinya. I’ve been looking at them as a burden of the past. I didn’t see them as... as mine."

I felt the tension in my chest loosen just a fraction. I didn’t forgive him—not yet—but I could see the man I loved starting to fight his way out of the King’s pride.

"The logs for the main support are too heavy for most of Oryn’s n to lift safely," I said, turning back to work. Most of them were beavers, and the bears couldn’t multitask properly. The hyenas and wolves weren’t that much of a help in lifting either. "We need soone with a bit more... strength."

Noah let out a short, rough breath that might have been a laugh if he weren’t so miserable. He stripped off his heavy fur cloak, revealing the massive, tanned, corded muscles of his back and shoulders.

"Show where they go," he said and grinned. That’s my man.