Chapter 22: Isabella and her magnetic personality

Chapter 22: Chapter 22: Isabella and her magnetic personality The moment the deep voice rang out, every single head snapped toward the entrance—including Ophelia, Shelia, Zara, the man who had escorted Isabella to her room, and Isabella herself. Then, they saw him. Kian walked in, confident, unbothered, like the world itself had no choice but to part before him. And you know, if Isabella was the type to drool, she would’ve been a puddle on the floor ages ago just from hearing his voice alone. And now, seeing him? Oh. Oh. Since it was the stone age, of course, he was only wearing an animal hide skirt, his muscular chest fully bare, his skin looking like it had been sculpted by the gods themselves. Isabella’s fingers twitched. She secretly wanted to have a feel. And she promised herself—sooner rather than later, she was going to do just that. Kian walked straight ahead, face cold as ice, his piercing gaze locked on something—or rather, someone. Isabella, being the quick thinker she was, immediately moved aside for him to pass. And ding! The system rewarded her with [+1 Agility]. Isabella smirked at the notification. Good to know her survival instincts were paying off. But then—ugh. Zara. The stupid girl was still in his way, trying to act pitiful. "Kian—" she started, but before she could even reach for him, it became painfully clear that he wasn’t stopping. At all. Zara’s eyes widened in panic. She was forced to scramble out of his path at the last second, nearly tripping over herself. Ophelia felt kind of bad for her. Shelia rolled her eyes, thinking she totally deserved it. Isabella, on the other hand, was just disgusted. Seriously, how could one person have this little self-worth? Zara, now fully embarrassed and realizing that Kian wasn’t even going to look at her, could only bow her head in shame. And yet—somehow—she still had the audacity to stand next to him like she actually belonged there. Isabella really had to hold in her laughter. No, no. This girl is just too much. She let out a lighthearted sigh, then—graceful as ever—stepped forward. First, she placed one foot in the middle of the room, then the other, her movements slow and deliberate. Cute. Effortless. Eye-catching. And for the first time since stepping into the room, Kian actually looked at her. His gaze traveled from her perfect hair, to her shimmering blue eyes (which, let’s be honest, made her look even cuter), to her figure, and finally—the dress. His eyes widened. Isabella, of course, caught that instantly. A smirk tugged at her lips as she thought smugly— Yes, I know. I’m the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen. Go ahead. Fall at my feet. (I know, I know. She’s really something else.) But Kian? Oh, he was thinking something completely different. Where the hell did she get a dress with such perfect craftsmanship? Even he, the Lion King of this village, couldn’t get his hands on something this well-made. The only way to acquire fabric like this was to go to one of the major cities—and even then, it would cost a fortune. "You..." That was all Kian managed to say before he caught himself. No. He wasn’t about to let his suspicion show. Not yet. If she really was someone to watch out for, the last thing he needed to do was alert her. But oh, Isabella—who finally saw the perfect chance to shine—was not about to let it go. "Who? Me?" She blinked, feigning innocence, before flashing a teasing smile. Then, in one smooth motion, she tossed her hair back. "Switched things up" Ophelia and Shelia immediately grinned. Zara, however? Fuming. Kian’s gaze lingered on Isabella for a second longer before he finally spoke, his voice as cold and sharp as ever. "How was your night?" A simple question, but the way he said it made it feel more like an interrogation than casual small talk. Isabella, ever the actress, tilted her head slightly, letting just the right amount of playfulness slip into her expression. "It was... alright," she said lightly, then sighed, adding with a subtle pout, "but it wasn’t really much without you." There. A perfect answer. Flirty, but indirect enough to keep her pride intact. And oh, the reactions. Shelia, who had been taking everything in with crossed arms, let out a light scoff and turned to Ophelia. "You know what? I actually really like her too. She’s fun to be around." Ophelia, the ever-cute, ever-chubby ball of sunshine, beamed and leaned in like she was sharing a secret. "Told you so," she whispered, eyes twinkling. Meanwhile, Zara was practically vibrating with annoyance. If she clenched her jaw any harder, she might just dislocate it. Kian, however, didn’t look annoyed. No, no. If anything—he looked... amused? His golden-blue eyes flickered with something unreadable as he studied Isabella. Then, as if testing her, he asked another question, voice cool and straightforward: Kian’s gaze didn’t waver as he asked, "Where exactly did you come from?" Isabella blinked, then placed a hand on her hip, looking at him like he’d just asked if the sky was blue. "Oh, that?" She waved a hand dismissively. "Just somewhere far, far away." Kian’s brow twitched slightly. "Lies," he stated flatly. She gasped dramatically, placing a hand on her chest. "Are you calling me a liar? Me? The innocent, adorable, completely harmless guest in your village?" Kian gave her a long, unimpressed stare. "Yes." "Wow," Isabella whispered, shaking her head. "I see how it is. No trust. No faith. You wound me, really." His lips twitched. He almost—almost—smirked. Who is this woman? Yet he noticed how she was avoiding the question, and his suspicion only grew, he was now more suspicious. But then again he had never met anyone this... questionable in his entire life. Still, he wasn’t one to entertain nonsense for long. His expression hardened once more as he cut straight to the point. "Since I’m letting you stay for a week, have you found anything that can benefit my village?" And just like that— Silence. Everyone froze. The air in the room shifted, the atmosphere suddenly tense. Everyone paused. Ophelia and Shelia exchanged glances. Zara narrowed her eyes, waiting. And Isabella? She just smiled. Because, oh—she had an answer. She always had an answer.