Chapter 80: Oh, no, no. Zara, you should leave. Alone

Chapter 80: Chapter 80: Oh, no, no. Zara, you should leave. Alone For a moment, the world around them faded. The voices, the presence of others—all of it melted into the background as Isabella lifted the spoon toward Kian’s lips. The rich scent of spices and meat lingered between them, the warmth of the food mingling with the heat of her skin as she held it up to him, her fingers barely brushing against his. Kian didn’t move right away. His blue eyes held hers, unreadable, unyielding. But Isabella wasn’t the type to back down. Her lips curved slightly. "What? Afraid it might be poisoned?" His eyes flickered with something—amusement? Challenge? It was hard to tell. Then, without breaking eye contact, Kian leaned in. His lips parted as he took the spoon into his mouth, slow and deliberate, the warm broth sliding over his tongue. Isabella felt her breath hitch. Why the hell did this look so— A sharp exhale sounded from Zara’s direction, but neither of them acknowledged her. The moment stretched as Kian swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing slightly. Isabella’s fingers still hovered near his mouth, her touch feather-light against his skin. Ophelia leaned toward Shelia, whispering excitedly, "O-oh my, d-did you see that? They’re so close!" Shelia smirked. "I saw it. And Zara’s face? Priceless." Kian finally pulled back, his expression as unreadable as ever. But Isabella caught it—the slight twitch of his tail behind him. Oh. He liked it. A slow, knowing grin spread across her face. Kian gave a slight nod, his approval silent but clear. Isabella would’ve pulled away then, smug in her victory, but something caught her eye. A tiny stain of broth clung to the corner of his lips. She didn’t think. Didn’t hesitate. Her thumb reached up, brushing against the soft skin of his mouth as she wiped it away. Kian froze. The air between them changed, thickened. Her touch lingered for a second too long—barely there, but enough. Enough for his lips to part slightly. Enough for his breath to mix with hers. Enough for Zara’s nails to dig into her own palm, her entire body going rigid with restrained fury. Isabella, completely unfazed, tilted her head, looking up at Kian with a feigned innocence that only made the moment more unbearable for everyone watching. "Well," she murmured, thumb still lingering near his lips, "can’t have my king eating like a mess now, can I?" Silence. Then— "Ophelia, are you breathing?" Shelia whispered. Ophelia barely nodded, cheeks flushed. "I-I... I think I forgot how..." Kian’s hand twitched at his side, his gaze darkening slightly. Isabella smirked, finally pulling away. "Enjoy the meal," she said lightly, stepping back. Kian exhaled slowly, his jaw tightening for reasons unknown even to him. But just as the moment seemed to settle— "I-Isabella," Zara suddenly spoke, voice falsely sweet but laced with irritation, "you should be careful with your hands. Wouldn’t want any misunderstandings." Isabella turned to her, blinking innocently. "Oh, you’re still here?" The words were light, almost teasing, but the way she tilted her head and gave Zara a once-over made it clear—she didn’t actually expect an answer. Zara stiffened, her grip tightening on her hide dress. She was still trying to maintain that sickly, delicate facade, but Isabella wasn’t fooled. "Shouldn’t you be resting?" Isabella continued, feigning concern. "It’s cold out, and with how weak you were earlier, I’d hate to see you collapse right here. Wouldn’t want your condition to worsen." Ophelia’s round eyes widened as she clapped her hands together softly. "Oh, that’s true! She was so sick just moments ago. It’s dangerous to stay out in this weather." Zara’s jaw clenched. "I-I’m feeling a little better now." Isabella’s lips twitched. "Oh? That’s amazing. Just a while ago, you looked like the wind alone would knock you over. Now, you’re standing tall, trying to still cling to the king like your life depends on it. That’s some fast recovery." Shelia snorted, covering her mouth. Kian, as usual, said nothing. His blue eyes flickered between Isabella and Zara, unreadable, though there was a distinct lack of interest in his expression. He was really surprised at how Isabella always managed to speak of him, like he wasn’t in front of her. He knew he should shut her off and put her in her place. But really anything that would lead Zara on, he did not want it. And he also enjoyed seeing Zara like that, he really despised her but he could do nothing about it. Because he promised, and he always keeps his promise. Luca, who was still kneeling on the ground beside them, kept his head lowered, wisely staying out of the conversation. He still awaited his faith and Kian’s decision. Zara’s nails dug into Kian’s arm, but his complete lack of reaction only made her angrier. Her lips trembled before she finally turned to Kian. "We should leave," she said softly, making sure to lower her voice in a way that would sound sweet. "It’s late." But before Kian could respond, Isabella stepped forward, her tone all too pleasant. "Oh, no, no. Zara, you should leave. Alone." Zara flinched. "I have much to discuss with your king," Isabella continued, placing emphasis on the word your just to make it sting. "Things that might make you feel... even more ill." Zara’s grip on Kian loosened immediately. Her lips parted as if she wanted to argue, but then she saw the way Isabella was looking at her. That same confident smirk. That air of ease, as if she wasn’t the least bit threatened by her presence. And worst of all—Kian didn’t say anything. He didn’t tell Isabella to stop. He didn’t tell her to stay. Nothing. Her throat tightened. It was humiliation. Pure, undeniable humiliation. The silence stretched between them, thick with unspoken tension. Ophelia and Shelia watched with barely contained amusement. Then, just when it seemed like Zara might explode— Her lips quivered, her eyes glossed over, and with a sharp inhale, she spun on her heels and ran. The sound of her footsteps faded quickly into the night. Isabella let out a small scoff, arms crossing over her chest. "Hmph." Ophelia blinked at Zara’s retreating figure, then muttered in genuine confusion, "I thought she was sick to the point that she couldn’t even stand, and now she can run?" Shelia shook her head, exasperated. "Oh, Ophelia, you’re too dumb sometimes." Kian exhaled through his nose, clearly unbothered by Zara’s dramatic exit. He didn’t even look in the direction she ran. Instead, his attention remained on Isabella, his expression neutral yet sharp. "You enjoy making enemies, don’t you?" Isabella’s smirk widened as she shrugged. "I enjoy making honest observations." Luca, still kneeling, finally risked glancing up, though he looked like he wished he hadn’t. The atmosphere was too thick, too charged. Ophelia nudged Shelia. "D-do you think he’s angry?" Shelia smirked. "Oh, he’s angry. But not in the way you think." Kian’s gaze darkened, his jaw flexing as he took a step closer to Isabella. The movement was subtle, but enough to make Luca tense. Isabella, of course, didn’t move an inch. If anything, she tilted her head, challenging. "So," she mused, glancing at Kian’s tail, which twitched slightly. "You did like the soup." Kian’s eyes narrowed. "You talk too much." "And you’re too quiet." She took another step forward, closing the distance even more. The flickering fire nearby cast a warm glow over both of them, highlighting the sharpness of his features, the playful defiance in hers. For a moment, they stood there, unspoken tension crackling between them. Then— "I hope Zara finds her way back," Ophelia said softly. Shelia scoffed. "She won’t get lost. That girl is like a cockroach—she always finds a way to crawl back." Isabella grinned. "Now that is the kind of honesty I love." Luca sighed. He was never going to get a peaceful night, was he?