Grodd did not make mistakes.

He made decisions.

Deliberate. Final. Unquestioned.

Which was why the current situation was… inconvenient.

Not the outcome.

Never the outcome.

The reaction.

She was angry.

Not afraid. Not submissive. Not yielding.

Angry.

Grodd stood at the center of his territory, watching as his people moved quickly—bringing food, warmth, comfort, anything that might ease the tension radiating from her like heat.

“…You will attend to her,” he ordered, voice low and absolute. “Immediately.”

They obeyed without hesitation.

Of course they did.

But it didn’t fix the problem.

Because the problem wasn’t lack of care.

It was him.

Grodd exhaled slowly, gaze fixed on her, calculating in a way he rarely needed to.

“…You are being provided for,” he said.

A pause.

“More than adequately.”

Another pause.

She didn’t respond the way she was supposed to.

Didn’t calm. Didn’t soften.

If anything—

It made it worse.

Grodd’s jaw tightened slightly, something unfamiliar edging into his expression—not uncertainty, never that, but… adjustment.

“…This is inefficient,” he muttered.

And yet—

He didn’t stop the orders. Didn’t pull his people back. Didn’t reduce the effort.

If anything—

He doubled it.

“Ensure she lacks nothing,” Grodd said again, more firmly this time. “Nothing.”

A pause.

Then, quieter—

“…Even if she insists on being dissatisfied.”