Chapter 48: Alright, go ahead. Hit me with the bad news

Chapter 48: Chapter 48: Alright, go ahead. Hit me with the bad news The next day came faster than Isabella expected. One moment she was closing her eyes, thinking about all the hard work she had done, and the next, the sun was already up, glaring down at her like it had a personal vendetta. With a long groan, she forced herself out of her small hut, stretching her sore limbs. Ophelia was already awake, looking bright-eyed and ready to go. Isabella had no idea how she had so much energy first thing in the morning. It was almost suspicious. "I’m ready!" Ophelia chirped, her chubby cheeks bouncing as she hopped in place. "Good for you," Isabella mumbled, rubbing her eyes. After washing up quickly, Isabella changed into the first ragged hide she had received when she arrived in this world. It was scratchy and ugly, but considering she was about to get covered in mud, she wasn’t about to ruin her nicer outfit. She had priorities. Now, standing near the pit where their clay had been sitting overnight, she realized something. She had no idea what she was doing. Isabella knew about beauty, skincare, and health—not pottery. But she wasn’t about to let some dirt and water defeat her. No, she was going to think. Use her knowledge. Compare. Improvise. Hope for the best. She squatted next to the pit, watching as the impurities floated to the surface, leaving a rich, smooth layer of clay beneath. "Alright, so we need to get rid of this dirty water without disturbing the clay," she said, trying to sound confident. Ophelia nodded eagerly, though Isabella was 90% sure she didn’t understand anything she just said. Using a hollowed-out gourd, Isabella very carefully scooped away the dirty water. She did it slowly, precisely—like she was handling an expensive serum for her face. After all, this was about quality. "Be gentle," Isabella advised as Ophelia joined her. Ophelia nodded, concentrating hard as she mimicked Isabella’s movements. Her small hands trembled a little, her lips pressed together in deep focus. "You look like you’re performing life-saving surgery," Isabella teased. Ophelia giggled. "I just don’t want to mess it up." "Good mindset." Isabella smirked. "Messing up means wasting effort, and we don’t do wasted effort in this household." Finally, with the water carefully removed, Isabella dug her fingers into the cool, slippery clay. It felt weird—like thick, sticky pudding. "Ugh." She made a face. "I am never letting this touch my face." Ophelia blinked. "Were you planning to?" "Who knows? Maybe it has skincare benefits. But until I confirm that, no way." Isabella scooped up a handful and placed it onto a broad banana leaf. Ophelia, now more confident, did the same, grinning as she mimicked Isabella’s movements. "You’re getting the hang of it," Isabella praised, stretching her arms. "We have a lot," Ophelia pointed out. "What now?" Isabella sighed, looking at the massive pile of clay they had gathered. "Now, we wait for it to dry a little. It’s too wet to shape right now." Ophelia nodded, seemingly happy to take a break. Isabella spread the clay onto a flat, smooth rock, letting the sun do its job. She stretched again, letting the warmth seep into her skin. Maybe this was a good time to take a quick break— Then, out of the corner of her eye, she saw movement. She turned her head and spotted them. The ten males she had been guiding to build the well were approaching from a distance. Her shoulders sagged. "Oh, great. More work." Ophelia perked up. "They’re coming here?" "Looks like it," Isabella muttered. The group of men walked with purpose, their toned bodies glistening slightly under the sunlight. Isabella wasn’t blind—they were all ridiculously attractive—but she was too mentally exhausted to even care. "I bet they’re here to ask more questions," Isabella sighed, crossing her arms. "Brace yourself, Ophelia. Our break might be over before it even started." Ophelia stifled a giggle, but Isabella could already tell she was having way too much fun watching Isabella suffer. As the men got closer, Isabella plastered on her best fake-welcoming smile. "Let me guess," she said, before they could even speak, "you have another problem." The tallest of the group cleared his throat. "We wanted to—" "Don’t even finish that sentence," Isabella interrupted, holding up a hand. "Give me a second to pretend I didn’t hear it." Silence. Ophelia covered her mouth, shoulders shaking. Isabella sighed dramatically. "Alright, go ahead. Hit me with the bad news." She said that because, any time they all came to her like this, they had something stupid to say. And just like that, her short-lived break was officially over. The tallest of the men furrowed his brows, hesitating for a moment before speaking. "We actually came to tell you..." He paused, eyeing Isabella cautiously, as if she might snap at him again. "There’s water at the surface of the hole we dug." Silence. Isabella blinked. Once. Twice. Then, she slowly tilted her head. "...Excuse me?" "There’s water," another one repeated. "It’s already coming up from the ground." Isabella’s lips parted slightly. Her brain processed the words, but her pride refused to let her react properly. Oh. So, this was actually good news. She awkwardly cleared her throat, straightening her posture like she totally meant to act this way. "Well, obviously," she said, flipping her hair over her shoulder. "I did pick the spot. Of course, there’s water." The young men exchanged glances, looking utterly lost. Isabella, refusing to admit she had just scolded them for absolutely nothing, doubled down. "And next time," she added, crossing her arms, "start with the good news before making me think the world is ending. Do you know how much unnecessary stress I just went through? Do you?" The men stared at her, utterly baffled. "Uh..." One of them scratched his head. "We... didn’t say anything bad?" "Exactly," Isabella huffed. "And that was the problem! You took too long! Learn to deliver news properly!" More confused blinking. Ophelia, who had been silently watching, buried her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking with laughter. "Anyway!" Isabella spun on her heel dramatically. "Ophelia, stay here and watch the clay. If a single speck goes missing, I will be asking questions." Ophelia, still giggling, nodded. "Yes, yes. I’ll guard it with my life." Satisfied, Isabella turned back to the poor, emotionally exhausted men. "Alright, let’s go see my perfectly chosen well." She marched forward, leaving the men no choice but to follow. As they reached the site, Isabella finally saw it. There it was—water, already at the surface. Clear, beautiful, life-giving water. She placed her hands on her hips and let out a victorious sigh. Thank God she had really picked a good spot. Now, it was time for the next step.