Chapter 191 - 192: When did you turn this selfish, Ophelia?!
"What took you so long?" Isabella narrowed her eyes and gave Luca a suspicious side-eye, the kind that silently screamed, I will poke your eyeballs with this gourd if you sass me right now.
Luca, in all his dramatic glory, rolled his eyes like a full-circle wheel. "I was busy not dying under the weight of expectations," he muttered, flopping inside like a cat that had just escaped an emotionally taxing conversation with a butterfly.
Isabella sighed dramatically. She was starting to think there was a curse on her or something—every time someone started living with her or hanging around too much, they caught this bold bug. Suddenly they’d grow a mouth, an attitude, and the gall to act like they were equals.
Not that she hated it. On the contrary, she low-key lived for it.
She liked expressive people. The ones who said what they felt. The ones who weren’t just sheep, bottling it up until they exploded like a shaky gourd under pressure. Give her an unfiltered friend over a fake smiling puppet any day.
"Get your ass here and let’s start filling these up before those women outside go feral," Isabella grunted, flicking her hand toward the mountain of empty gourds. Her tone was dismissive, but the corner of her mouth twitched. She was already entertained.
Luca dropped down beside her like a loyal goblin, grinning and muttering, "Yes, my Queen."
They worked quickly. One by one, they dipped the smooth ladles into the massive clay pot of rich, creamy soap and poured it into the hollowed gourds.
The scent was floral with a calming touch, the kind that settled into the lungs and made the whole hut feel like a quiet, enchanted bathhouse. It clung to their fingers, soft and lingering, like a whispered lullaby wrapped in steam.