Chapter 695: You are less wild now
The two of them started walking toward the bathing area together.
Because Isabella was heavily pregnant now, she moved slowly, and Osiris naturally matched her pace without even being told. He kept half a step beside her, half a step behind, the way beastmen often did when they were guarding a female they cared about. He was not touching her yet, but his attention never left her. Every time the ground changed or a little patch of cold water from melting snow touched the stone, his eyes immediately dropped there first.
Seeing that made Isabella feel strangely quiet inside.
Because really, when had this fool learned to be careful like this?
She still remembered the rough and impossible man she had met on the mountain, the one who had treated her with the kind of blunt strength that made her want to bite him daily. Back then, even breathing near him had felt dangerous. Now he walked beside her at this slow careful pace as if he feared the floor itself might annoy her.
How strange.
At one point, Osiris looked at her stomach and then asked very suddenly, "Are you tired?"
Isabella looked up at him. "A little."
Then, before she could say anything else, he bent down.
The movement came so fast that Isabella almost took a step back.
"What are you doing?"
Osiris looked confused by the question. "Carrying you."
"I can still walk."
"You are tired."
His tone was so straightforward that Isabella almost laughed again.
"Yes, but tired does not mean useless."
Osiris stared at her for one second.
Then, because he was Osiris, he simply decided the argument was over and scooped her up anyway.
The moment her feet left the ground, Isabella sucked in a breath.
"Osiris!"
He looked at her with complete calm. "You said you were tired."
"That does not mean you can just pick me up whenever you want."
"Why?"
That one word nearly made Isabella choke.
Because how was she supposed to answer that?
How was she supposed to explain to a man like Osiris that carrying a heavily pregnant woman around like she weighed nothing was exactly the kind of thing that made her feel both annoyed and spoiled at the same time?
So she glared at him and said, "Because I said so."
Osiris thought about it.
Then he gave the most Osiris answer possible.
"That is not a real reason."
Isabella stared at him in disbelief.
If she had more free hands, she truly would have hit his shoulder.
Still, because he was already carrying her, and because his body was naturally warm in a way that felt very nice against the evening cold, and because she was indeed tired, she finally gave up fighting him and only muttered, "If you drop me, I will haunt you."
Osiris’s eyes widened with offense. "Why would I drop you?"
"That was a warning."
"That was insulting," he corrected.
Even while saying that, he held her more securely.
The bath area Isabella used was separate from the common one and much better kept. It was still primitive in many ways, because the walls were stone, the water had to be heated and carried, and nothing here looked anything like the easy polished baths of a modern world. However, because Isabella lived here and because the men around her had spent a long time improving everything for her comfort, the place was much better than it had once been.
There were smoother stone floors, cleaner basins, thick furs for warmth, wooden racks for clean cloth, and even little shelves where Isabella kept the things she liked to use.
When Osiris carried her inside, a cloud of warmer air met them first.
Then he set her down very carefully on one of the fur-covered seats.
The care in that movement was so different from the way he had once manhandled her on the mountain that Isabella could not help staring at him.
Osiris noticed.
"What?"
Isabella’s lips moved. "You are less wild now."
Osiris blinked once, then seemed to think about her words seriously.
"That is because you get angry if I am too wild."
That answer was so simple and so honest that Isabella actually laughed.
So that was his reason?
He changed because she scolded him enough?
How unbelievable.
Then again, this was Osiris.
Perhaps it really was that simple.
He looked pleased that she was laughing, then turned immediately toward the bathing setup and asked, "How hot?"
That one question nearly made Isabella smile again.
Because truly, even the way beastmen cared for women was direct. They did not dance around things. They asked how hot, how much, where it hurt, what she wanted to eat, where she wanted to sit, and whether she was cold. Their care was always physical first, practical first, close first.
"Warm," Isabella said. "But not too hot."
Osiris nodded and got to work at once.
Watching him prepare the bath was actually very funny.
This was because Osiris did everything with the same serious face he would probably use in a fight, and somehow that made simple things look much more dramatic than they truly were. He moved the water, checked the warmth, adjusted things, and used his own inner heat when needed so naturally that Isabella felt once again that phoenixes were deeply unfair creatures.
At one point, when he placed a hand near one of the basins to warm it more, Isabella could not help saying, "You really are a walking fire pot."
Osiris turned and looked at her. "Is that praise?"
"That depends. Are you proud?"
"Yes."
"Then it is mockery."
Osiris clicked his tongue softly, but the corner of his mouth still moved.
To be honest, he liked being here with her like this.
He liked that she had called him.
He liked that everyone else was elsewhere doing their own thing while he had been chosen for this task.
He liked hearing her voice in this warm room more than hearing the village outside.
Most of all, he liked how soft she looked sitting there wrapped in fur, cheeks still a little pink from the cold, hair slightly messy, and eyes following him wherever he moved.