The Spoilt Beauty And Her Beasts

"Good!" Isabella tossed her shiny hair, placed a hand on her hip, and pointed to the side where fresh buckets stood in a row. "Buckets are for clean water. If it looks like pee or smells like feet, toss it. Don’t bathe in it, don’t feed your man with it, and don’t ever tell me you thought it was tea."

Gasps. Giggles. One of the women actually raised her hand. "What... is tea?"

Isabella blinked. "Oh honey, don’t even get me started. We’ll get to that once you stop mistaking soap for stew."

Satisfied, she turned back toward the women, tilting her head thoughtfully.

"In a few weeks," she said slowly, letting her voice carry like she was announcing a miracle, "I’ll introduce something called a bathroom... and a toilet."

It was dead silent for half a second.

Then—

Screams.

Not of horror—of joy.

The women clapped, gasped, some even bounced where they stood. One woman hugged another. Another literally fell backward onto the dirt, shouting something Isabella didn’t understand but probably translated to holy sht she’s a goddess.*

Isabella waved both hands in the air like a pop star after announcing her world tour.