The Spoilt Beauty And Her Beasts

Because really.

He had entered with a whole story and a whole wound in his heart, and this snake was acting as if he were no more important than smoke.

"When is it going to be my turn?" Zyran complained, now pacing like a trapped black cat with too many feelings and too much beauty.

Isabella nearly choked on her food.

Cyrus’s expression darkened again.

This was because even though Zyran was joking as usual, there was also truth under it. He really had waited. He really was jealous. And lately, the closer Isabella came to giving birth, the more that jealousy had started scratching at him.

A thought had even crossed his mind once or twice.

What if there was some herb or method that could make pregnancies move faster?

However, he had quickly thrown that thought away, because such things were used in the underworld, on other kinds of women, and he still did not know Isabella’s true origin. Doing something reckless to her body would be stupidity of the worst kind.

So he could only wait.

Wait and continue suffering.

A tragic prince indeed.

At that moment, the door opened again, and Glimora came running in.

Or rather, she came charging in because the smell of breakfast had already reached her long before she entered. She shoved past Zyran’s leg so hard that her shoulder actually knocked him off balance, then stepped directly on his foot on the way in.

Zyran stared down at her in outrage. "Why would you do that?"

Glimora stopped, turned back, and growled at him with open disgust before continuing toward Isabella.

The look on her little beast face said very clearly, "Move. You are useless and in the way."

Then she reached Isabella and sat down like the best-behaved little creature in the world, tail neatly wrapped, eyes large and bright, and all expectation written openly on her face.

Isabella could not help laughing.

This beast truly had two completely different personalities. One for everyone else, and one for food.

"Fine, fine," Isabella said. "Here."

She gave Glimora a little bit from the tray, and the little beast immediately accepted it with great dignity, as if this were only natural and not a favor at all.

Cyrus reached down and scratched Glimora’s head, and she became even happier. Her ears twitched, and she kept eating with deep satisfaction, every now and then looking up at Isabella as if to remind her that more could still be given.

Zyran stared at the whole thing in disbelief.

"What about me?" he asked. "I’m hungry too."

Isabella looked at him flatly. "I don’t care."

That answer made Glimora pause mid-chew and look at Zyran with the most disgusted little beast face imaginable. It was honestly almost human. Her eyes seemed to say, "You are a grown male. Why are you begging like this?"

But Zyran truly did not care.

He walked over and sat down with the face of a terribly pitiful prince who had been denied justice by both the kingdom and breakfast.

"I also want some," he said, looking at Isabella like a baby.

Glimora looked even more revolted.

The contrast between them was too much.

One was a proud little beast waiting for a reward.

The other was a full-grown shameless male trying to compete with her.

Isabella was already irritated just from looking at him. She truly wanted him out, because early morning should not begin with this kind of nonsense in her room.

Still, before she could even decide whether to throw something at him or actually feed him, Cyrus quietly cut off a piece of bread and held it out toward Zyran.

The whole room froze.

Zyran stared at the food.

Then he stared at Cyrus.

Then his face changed into something truly indescribable.

He looked horrified.

Actually horrified.

"Why," he asked slowly, "would you feed me?"

Cyrus looked at him calmly. "You said you were hungry."

Zyran looked as though his soul had just been insulted. "I wanted her to feed me."

The moment he said that, Isabella burst out laughing.

She laughed so hard that even Glimora paused again to look up. Seeing Isabella laugh made Cyrus’s face soften further, because when she laughed like this, the whole room felt lighter. Even Zyran, who had just suffered a severe emotional injury, looked less tragic because the sound of her laughter pleased him too much.

"She’s laughing at you," Cyrus said very gently.

Zyran turned to him. "You are cruel in very quiet ways."

Osiris chose that moment to appear too.

He came in with his usual direct energy, took one look at the scene, then saw Zyran sitting there with Cyrus still holding food out toward him and Isabella laughing like she had seen heaven.

Osiris blinked.

Then he said, "What happened to him?"

That only made Isabella laugh harder.

Zyran looked at Osiris and said bitterly, "I am being humiliated."

Osiris thought about it for one second, then nodded. "Yes."

That made Cyrus finally laugh too.

And because now three of them were amused and one was suffering, the room became even brighter.

Eventually, Isabella finished eating.

Cyrus took the tray away before she could shift it herself, and Zyran, who had still not recovered emotionally from being fed by another male, leaned back with a look of deep spiritual pain.

Then Isabella stood up.

Or tried to.

Naturally, Cyrus was already there to help her before she could fully rise on her own. He adjusted the fur around her shoulders, made sure her feet were warm, and only then let her move.

She had barely stepped out of the room when she saw Luca.

Luca was already there, and the moment their eyes met, Isabella immediately got a bad feeling.

Because whenever Luca came looking like that, it meant peace had once again packed its things and left.

She stared at him.

He stared at her.

Then Isabella said with tired disbelief, "Again? What is it now?"

Luca straightened and said, "The messenger from First City is back."

And the morning, which had been full of food, laughter, shamelessness, and one deeply offended prince, suddenly shifted again.