Imara Diversifies The Beastmen World

Chapter Ninety Six: Consequences Unveiled

As I held Qean in my arms, her tears stirring a pang of sadness in my heart, I couldn't shake the feeling of foolishness creeping over me for snapping on her like that.

Here she was, unraveling before me like a child who had never ventured beyond the confines of her sheltered existence in the sea.

Despite knowing she was in the wrong, I couldn't help but feel a surge of empathy toward her. It's one of my flaws, being too empathetic, but I couldn't suppress it, even now.

In Wilbard's domain, it felt like an Ape's resting ground with a twist tailored to suit just him and Qean. The atmosphere was surprisingly beautiful and inviting, a testament to Wilbard's refined taste.

As we explored the surroundings, I couldn't help but admire the intricate decor - lush plants, bowls of fresh fruit, immaculate furs, and tastefully arranged seashells adorned the space, creating a visually appealing ambiance.

Wilbard wasted no time in attending to our needs, signaling for someone to prepare tea and snacks. As we settled onto the beds of grass, Qean continued to cry, and I allowed her the space to let her emotions out.

Harvey's thoughtful gesture of what tea to make ensured that we were all comfortable as we navigated through the delicate situation.

As I gently wiped away her tears with a soft fur cloth, I couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy for Qean. She looked so vulnerable in that moment, like a lost blue-haired baby girl child in a world she didn't fully understand outside of it being terribly sheltered by males.

"Feel a bit better now?" I asked softly, hoping to provide some comfort amidst the turmoil. But Qean's response was less than enthusiastic.

"No, not really," she sighed, her voice tinged with frustration. "I still don't understand why you did this to me. My head is pounding, and I feel like I've been crying for quite some time. I haven't felt this overwhelmed since I was a little girl."

As she spoke, she curled up in my lap, her posture reminiscent of a child seeking solace from their mother. It was a stark reminder of just how sheltered her life had been, and how ill-equipped she was to navigate the complexities of friendship and betrayal.

I had wanted to push her away, hoping she'd understand that she couldn't just cuddle in my lap with her moodiness. Wanting to assert some boundaries despite my empathetic nature.

But deep down, I couldn't bring myself to be too harsh with her feeling a twinge of softness toward her.

"Did you ever confide in me about your feelings for Winston?" I inquired, my tone gentle yet probing, searching for honesty in her response.

Qean's reaction was hesitant, as though she grappled with the dilemma of admitting the truth versus defending herself.

She let out a heavy sigh. "No, but-"

"Ah, Aht Aht, hold on," I interjected, lifting a finger to pause her. "So how was I supposed to know you had feelings for him?"

"You weren't, but-"

I interrupted her again, stating firmly, "But what? I'm not a mind reader, nor am I capable of performing signs like Wilbard.

You never once shared your feelings with me during all the time you spent at my house or hanging out with me."

As I spoke, I could feel Wilbard's eyes boring into my back, but I refused to let his judgment sway me. He needed to understand that he had a role to play in this too, especially given his tendency to offer females more mates for protection while being selfish in his own relationships.