CHAPTER 171: CHAPTER-171.

So in the end, Kaya had to abandon that idea too.

There was no point forcing something that wouldn’t work. She needed to think of another way—another solution to drive away the creeping cold. Fire helped, yes. Inside the house, it was the only thing keeping the room tolerably warm. But the floor—made poorly on a bed of soil—still breathed cold through every corner. And that cold seeped up, slowly and stubbornly, no matter how many layers one wore.

Her body could handle it—for now. She was strong. She had the herbs, the tonics, the knowledge. But strength had limits, and she wasn’t foolish enough to test them unnecessarily. A single fever, a chill caught deep in the bones... if it turned into something worse like pneumonia, then what?

What would she do then?

She sat silently in her room, arms folded loosely around herself, her eyes fixed on the only candle in the room. A little stub made of beeswax, with a flickering flame that danced like it was trying to stay alive against the breath of cold air sneaking in through the gaps.

Everyone else was tucked inside their own houses. No one had complained aloud yet, but Kaya knew they were all trying to survive the same way she was.

The hides had already been used. Too many people, not enough material. Most of the animal skins had gone into making winter clothes, some into patchwork blankets or stuffed into crude bedding. There wasn’t enough left to line the floor for everyone.

Not even for her.

She considered dry grass—but that came with its own risks. Insects, parasites, and the constant crunching underfoot that would keep her half-awake all night.

Kaya sighed and stood up, pulling her shawl tighter around her shoulders. The candlelight stretched her shadow across the wall, long and silent.

She stepped onto the terrace. The wind nipped at her face, cold and bold. But at least up here, she could think. Could breathe.

She looked out over the dark rooftops, the forest beyond, and the few stars that dared to peek through the clouds.

The world was quiet, but her thoughts weren’t.

She needed a new plan.

And she needed it soon.

....

.

.

The next morning, as the pale light of dawn crept over the valley, Kaya stepped out of her room with the same routine she’d followed for days—sharp, steady, and half-dreading the cold bite of air that slapped her face like an uninvited memory. It was colder than usual, enough to make her tighten the hide shawl around her shoulders. The shawl wasn’t elegant, just functional. Made of stitched animal hide and softened over fire, it did the job.

As she stretched her arms and rolled her neck in quiet preparation, her eyes casually scanned the front of the terrace—and then paused.

There, sitting comfortably on the rock slab like he’d never left, was Veer.

Kaya blinked once.

And again.

Then frowned.

The last time she’d seen that man, they were mid-argument, and she had distinctly considered throwing a bucket at him. But now here he was, sitting in the cold like it was spring and he was on holiday, a too-bright smile plastered on his face, as if the sun rose just to witness his comeback.

Before she could speak—or better, turn around and pretend she didn’t see him—Veer stood up. With that same grin. That same "I’m too charming to be held accountable for anything" grin.

"See that! So there you are!" he announced cheerfully, as though she was a lost goat he’d found. His arms spread out like he expected her to walk right into them.

She didn’t.

She just stared at him, her expression unreadable, save for the faint twitch of her left brow.

Of course, he walked toward her anyway, like a puppy that’s sure it won’t be kicked.

Kaya exhaled, her breath a cloud in the chilly air.

This again.

This man.

She was really starting to think she should’ve lit that candle for more than just warmth last night.

But strangely, this time when he came closer, Veer paused. Just for a second—like he was weighing something—then walked right up to her and slowly reached out. Kaya narrowed her eyes. As his hand raised toward her face, she instinctively took a step back, but he moved forward anyway, undeterred.

And then, his fingers brushed her cheek.

Warm. His hands were unexpectedly warm—startlingly so against the crisp morning air.

She should’ve slapped him on instinct. Should have. But for some odd reason, she didn’t. Maybe it was the warmth. Maybe it was the way he looked at her, all soft-eyed and irritatingly gentle.

He tilted his head and said in a tone far too calm for his usual dramatic flair,

"Didn’t you say you were a chimpanzee? Then why are you so cold?"

That snapped Kaya right out of it. Her expression twisted, and she slapped his hand away—not hard, just enough to say, try again and I’ll break it.

"What the hell are you doing here?" she snapped, her voice flat but laced with warning.

Veer didn’t flinch. Instead, he looked downright amused as he leaned in slightly, like a cat poking at a lioness.

"I don’t know where my sweetheart learned to act like a cat... Are you sure you’re not a feline in disguise? Maybe a stray who pretends to hate attention but keeps hanging around me anyway?"

His fingers playfully nudged her cheek again. A daring move. A stupid one.

Kaya’s eyes narrowed to slits. "Do you want to die?"

Veer grinned. "You keep saying that, and yet... I’m still alive. Makes me wonder if my death threats come with a kiss clause I missed."

Kaya stared at him for a long beat. Then turned around with a scoff, tugging her shawl tighter. "Touch me again, and I’ll skin your ego and wear it as gloves."

Veer chuckled behind her. "As long as they’re warm, sweetheart. Just like my hands."

Suddenly kaya paused.