Chapter 34: I Need Ten Men

Chapter 34: Chapter 34: I Need Ten Men Sheila tilted her head, confusion written all over her face. "Pores?" she echoed. "What are those?" Isabella blinked. Oh. Right. Skincare wasn’t exactly a thing here. "You know, the tiny holes on your face that let your skin breathe?" Sheila reached up and touched her cheek like Isabella had just told her she was secretly covered in holes. "...My skin is breathing?" "Yes! And right now, it’s suffocating!" Isabella gestured dramatically. "Look, see this part? It’s dry. That’s bad. And here—" She poked Sheila’s cheek lightly. "It’s too oily. That’s also bad. And don’t even get me started on how much dirt is trapped in here—" Sheila’s expression slowly shifted from confusion to alarm. "So... my face is bad?" "No, no, no, love," Isabella said quickly, waving her hands. "Your face is gorgeous. It just needs a little... enhancement. A little glow-up. A little extra love." Sheila still looked unconvinced. "So... I’m not ugly?" "Of course not!" Isabella scoffed, linking her arm with Sheila’s. "Listen, you have so much untapped potential, it’s insane. In a few weeks? No one will be able to handle your beauty." She winked. "They’ll have to shield their eyes, or risk getting blinded by your radiance." Sheila’s lips twitched. "That... sounds nice." "It will be nice," Isabella assured her, giving a firm nod. "Soon, all that will change. Trust me." Sheila smiled at that, and before Isabella could hype her up any further, a presence at the entrance made both of them turn. Kian had arrived. He strode in with that effortless air of authority, his personal guard, Asael, following closely behind. His sharp gaze swept the room before settling on Isabella, unreadable as always. Without a word, he walked to his stone throne and took his seat. Isabella immediately got to her feet, straightening her posture as she prepared to speak. Isabella squared her shoulders, took a deep breath, and strode forward, standing directly in front of Kian’s stone throne. His piercing gaze locked onto her, unreadable as always, but she wasn’t about to let that intimidate her. She placed her hands on her hips and cleared her throat. "I need materials." Kian arched a brow. Asael, his ever-serious guard, barely blinked, standing as still as a statue beside him. Sheila, on the other hand, was already leaning in, curious. "Materials?" Kian repeated, unimpressed. "Yes," Isabella said, crossing her arms. "Primitive picks, shovels, lots of baskets or sacks, thick logs, and a ton of other things for the well." Kian and Asael exchanged a glance. From the way their expressions barely shifted, she could tell neither of them had any idea what half those things were. But—a win was a win. Encouraged, she continued. "And it’s not just clean water I’m bringing to this village." She smirked, letting the anticipation build. "I’ll also be introducing new dishes." That got everyone’s attention. Sheila’s eyes widened with excitement. Asael’s expression, while still mostly blank, shifted slightly—was that... interest? And Kian? He didn’t move, but she caught the flicker of intrigue in his gaze. "Oh, now you’re paying attention?" Isabella smirked. "Thought so. I’ll need materials for making food—grinding stones, mortars, pestles, pots, pans. The whole set. Cooking is about to be revolutionized, people." Sheila clapped her hands together. "New food? What kind of food?" "Ah-ah," Isabella wagged a finger. "Patience, dear Sheila. All in good time." "I hope it’s not that fish though" Shelia added awkwardly as she watched Isabella’s smile drop and Isabella shot her a side glance. "Sorry continue" She urged. She turned back to Kian, who was watching her with that same unreadable stare. Why did he have to look so good while doing absolutely nothing? "And since we’re already talking about upgrades," Isabella continued, "let’s discuss clothing. Your people are basically running around in fancy rags. No offense." Sheila’s hand flew to her chest, offended. "Rags?! My dress is made from the finest—" "Sheila, my love, I adore you, but this is a sack." Isabella gestured to the simple fabric of the girl’s dress. "It’s a fancy sack, I’ll give you that, but a sack nonetheless." Sheila frowned. "...Is it really that bad?" "Could it be better? Yes. And trust me, once I’m done, you’ll never go back to whatever this is." Sheila pursed her lips, thinking hard. Asael looked mildly amused—at least, as amused as someone with zero expression could be. Kian, however, remained silent, watching her closely. Then, after a long pause, he spoke. "How do you plan to do all this?" Isabella grinned. "Simple. You just have to follow my instructions." Kian didn’t react immediately. Instead, he leaned forward slightly, resting an elbow on the armrest as he studied her. She raised a brow. "What? Scared it won’t work?" "I’m wondering if you’re overestimating yourself," he murmured. "I don’t overestimate," Isabella shot back. "I calculate. Big difference." Another pause. Then, finally, Kian sighed. "When do you plan to start?" "Today." A flicker of amusement crossed his face. "How many men do you need?" Isabella hesitated. Okay, be reasonable, don’t push your luck— "At least ten of your best men," she said confidently. Dear universe, please let that not be too much. Kian didn’t even blink. "Done." Huh? Isabella nearly staggered. "Wait—just like that?" He leaned back, bored. "In three hours, ten men will come looking for you." Isabella suddenly did not like the sound of that. Come looking for her? What was she, a missing livestock? But she forced a smile. "Great! Can’t wait." Sheila grabbed her arm, practically bouncing. "This is going to be amazing! We’re going to have new clothes, new food, and clean water? Isabella, you’re a miracle worker!" Isabella laughed, but in her head, she was already calculating the sheer amount of work waiting for her. Welp. No backing out now. Isabella and Sheila had barely taken a few steps toward Ophelia’s place when they spotted her running straight at them—face red, eyes puffy, and sobbing like her world had just ended. The small girl barreled toward Sheila, hiccuping between each cry, her chubby cheeks streaked with tears. "Oh, for the love of—Ophelia, what happened?!" Isabella blurted, startled. But Sheila? She already knew.