Chapter 98: How do you always come back looking like some goddess just stepped out of a river?

Chapter 98: Chapter 98: How do you always come back looking like some goddess just stepped out of a river? Just as Isabella finished speaking, Ophelia and Shelia returned, carrying a basket overflowing with herbs and spices. "We’re back!" Ophelia announced cheerfully, but the moment she spotted Cyrus still standing there, her smile wavered. She hesitated, then forced an awkward grin his way. It was clear she was still nervous around him, but she didn’t want to seem rude. After all, if Isabella considered him family, he must be safe... right? Shelia, however, was far less subtle. She gave Cyrus a slow, assessing once-over, her sharp gaze practically peeling him apart. Unlike Ophelia, she wasn’t buying the whole he’s-my-brother act. She knew Isabella was lying, and she definitely didn’t trust him. Still, Isabella was protecting him. That was enough—for now. As long as he didn’t bring her trouble, he could live. Ophelia set the basket down, brushing her hands off on her skirt as Isabella approached, already sifting through the fresh herbs and spices. "Cyrus is with me now," Isabella said casually, her tone light but firm. "You can stop looking at him like he’s about to eat you." Ophelia let out a nervous laugh, glancing at Cyrus again. "Oh! I wasn’t— I mean, I just— He’s just... big." Shelia scoffed. "That’s not what you were saying when we left." Ophelia gasped, lightly smacking Shelia’s arm. "She lies!" Cyrus, who had remained silent through the exchange, blinked in mild amusement. Isabella barely spared them a glance as she continued inspecting the basket, muttering to herself about which herbs she actually needed. Shelia crossed her arms. "Just because you say he’s with you doesn’t mean I trust him." "I don’t need you to trust him," Isabella replied, plucking a sprig of something fragrant and giving it a sniff. "I just need you to stop making that face before he thinks you actually plan on skinning him." Shelia narrowed her eyes at Cyrus, then at Isabella. "Fine. For now." Cyrus, feeling the tension, cleared his throat. "...Thank you?" Ophelia gave him another nervous smile. Shelia just rolled her eyes. Isabella, meanwhile, had already moved on, tossing a handful of herbs back into the basket with a satisfied nod. "Alright, let’s get to work. I am starving." "Uh... why is Luca refilling the already filled gourds?" Shelia asked, her brow twitching as she watched Luca haul a gourd to the river, empty its perfectly good contents, refill it, and then lug it back inside. Ophelia, wide-eyed, tilted her head. "Maybe he’s bored?" Isabella just stared, her smile frozen in place as she watched the absurd display. Should she stop him? ...Nah. He was almost done. "Alright, light the fire," Isabella announced cheerfully, standing up and stroking Glimora’s fur with a satisfied smile. As Ophelia rushed to get the fire going, Cyrus stepped closer, his voice soft and calm. "What do you want me to do?" His smile was gentle—too gentle. Sweet, even. And yet, that was exactly why Isabella remained wary. His past still lingered in her mind like a shadow creeping at the edge of the firelight. Just because she’d taken him in didn’t mean she suddenly trusted him. At all. He was a strange man. Nothing more. But, of course, Isabella didn’t let any of that show. Instead, she met his gaze with a bright, dazzling smile and fluttered her lashes. "How about you do... out of my way," she said sweetly, stepping past him without a second glance. Cyrus blinked, his expression shifting from hopeful to blank. Ophelia covered her mouth to stifle a giggle. Shelia, unimpressed as ever, snorted. "Yeah, that checks out." Isabella shot Shelia a sharp look, and the girl immediately busied herself, pretending to be deeply interested in the fire. Satisfied, Isabella turned on her heel and strolled toward the river, cradling Glimora in her arms like the precious little queen she was. Luca had finally stopped his ridiculous gourd-filling mission and disappeared somewhere, so at least she wouldn’t have to explain why her hut suddenly had twice the amount of water it needed. At the riverbank, she knelt down, letting the cool water rush over her hands as she gently cleaned Glimora’s fur. The little creature purred in delight, pressing closer as Isabella carefully brushed her tiny teeth with a smooth twig, humming as she worked. {Congratulations on leveling up to level 1 Beast Taming Stat} By the time she returned to the hut, she was fresh, her skin glowing, and Glimora looked even more pristine—soft, perfectly clean, and smugly content in Isabella’s arms. As always, she looked effortlessly beautiful. Shelia glanced up, took one look at her, and sighed. "How do you always come back looking like some goddess just stepped out of a river?" Isabella smirked, flipping her damp hair over her shoulder. "It’s called natural beauty, darling. Try it sometime." Opehlia giggled as Shelia playfully rolled her eyes. "Glimora, love, I’ll have to put you down for now. I need to educate these cuties on how to cook," Isabella cooed, stroking the soft fur of the little creature in her arms. Glimora blinked up at her, her small, round face scrunching up in a displeased pout. It was adorable. Almost too adorable. Isabella sighed dramatically. "Oh, don’t look at me like that. You know you’re my number one baby, but even a queen needs to eat, right?" Glimora huffed, pressing her tiny head into Isabella’s chest, clearly not ready to be abandoned. "Now, now, don’t be difficult," Isabella giggled, shifting the little creature in her arms as she glanced over at the group. Opehlia and Shelia had already set up the fire, their hands moving swiftly as they prepared the ingredients. They looked eager, ready to follow her lead. Luca stood with his arms crossed, his ever-serious expression in place, while Cyrus observed everything with quiet curiosity, his pink eyes flickering between Isabella and the preparations. Isabella tried again, gently nudging Glimora. "Be a good girl and—" Glimora whined. "Oh, for the love of—" Isabella groaned. "Fine, five more seconds." She gave the little fluffball another round of pampering, stroking her ears, whispering sweet nothings, and even promising extra treats later. Finally, after what felt like an eternity of silent negotiations, Glimora sighed and—very, very reluctantly—allowed Isabella to place her down on a soft patch of cloth nearby. Isabella dusted off her hands, spun around, and clapped them together delicately. "Alright, my darlings!" She grinned, eyes sparkling with mischief. "Are you ready to slay?!" Opehlia and Shelia exchanged a knowing look before beaming. "We sure are!" Cyrus and Luca, however, stood frozen, looking utterly lost. Luca’s brows furrowed as he turned to Isabella, his voice serious. "Who should we kill?"