The Spoilt Beauty And Her Beasts

By the time Isabella, Cyrus, and Kian reached the stone hall used for receiving guests and discussing important matters, the snow outside had already grown thicker again, and white flakes kept falling in a quiet steady way that made the whole village look softer than it really was.

Of course, this place could hardly be called a village anymore.

Even though people still used that word out of habit, anybody with eyes could already see that it had long grown past that stage. The roads were better. The buildings were stronger. The walls were higher. There were watchtowers, rules, organized food storage, training grounds, proper rooms for discussions, and too many things that ordinary villages could only dream of. So when the messenger from First City sat there with his polished smile and smooth words, Isabella already knew what was coming.

Naturally, she did not walk in on her own feet for long.

Cyrus had already transformed the lower part of his body into his long, huge red python tail, and Isabella was seated on it in a way that kept her warm and comfortable. The thick fur over her legs and lap stopped the cold from reaching her, and Cyrus’s tail, strong and steady beneath her, made moving around much easier for her now that she was carrying such a heavy stomach. To be honest, she had started liking this arrangement more and more, though she would never say it too proudly in front of him because then Cyrus would look too happy with himself.

Kian walked beside them with his usual cold face, and even though he said nothing on the way there, his attention stayed on Isabella the whole time. If the floor looked uneven, his eyes would go there first. If the cold wind slipped too far through one of the open stone spaces, his gaze would sharpen at once. That was simply how he was now. He might still act like the same stern lion king before others, but around Isabella, all that care leaked out through the smallest things.

When they entered, the messenger from First City stood up at once.

He looked calm, in that very annoying way some people had. Even the fur over his shoulders looked too neat, and the smile on his face had that oily warmth that made a person feel tired before he had even spoken.

He bowed first, then sat again after Kian took his own place.

Isabella stayed where she was on Cyrus’s tail and looked at the man lazily. Zyran was there too, lounging nearby like someone who had been dragged into something boring but would stay anyway in case it became entertaining. Osiris was also present, though earlier he had looked more absent in his thoughts than usual. That did not escape Isabella, but since he had said nothing yet, she kept it in mind and waited.

The man from First City smiled and began in that smooth careful tone of his.

"Your land grows fast," he said. "First City sees promise in it."

Isabella nearly rolled her eyes.

Promise?

This man sat in a stone hall, inside a place that had walls stronger than many towns, food enough to make outsiders jealous, and a ruler people had already begun calling a goddess like it came naturally. Yet he still wanted to talk as if he were looking down at some hopeful little settlement that had barely learned how to stand.

How boring.

How very annoying.

And somehow, while he was speaking, Isabella suddenly felt like she had been dragged back into one of the ridiculous roles she used to act in during her past life. The smooth talking, the hidden warning, the fake admiration, the careful smiles, all of it made her think, "What in the Hollywood is going on here?" It felt like one of those stupid roles where powerful men smiled while circling each other with poison hidden in their mouths.

The only difference was that now she was not standing under bright lights wearing some expensive dress and pretending for cameras.

Now she was sitting in a beast world palace wrapped in fur with a python tail beneath her and three dangerous men around her.

Honestly, that was still better.

So Isabella smiled softly and answered in the same indirect way.

"Your praise is too early," she said. "A road should be watched before one walks too far on it, and a hand reaching out should be understood before it is held. I cannot be making more alliances until I know what is truly in front of me."

Her voice stayed light and pleasant.

Still, the meaning was clear enough.

She did not know whether this was a trap, a test, or a sincere offer, and she was not about to tie herself to strangers just because they wrapped their greed in pretty words.

The messenger’s smile did not crack.

If anything, it only deepened.

"First City has power," he said. "We have influence, rare beasts, strong bloodlines, and reach that can make a place rise faster than it ever could alone. A wise ruler knows when to stand proudly, but a wiser one knows when to join hands with strength."

The room grew quieter after that.

Because the words sounded like an offer, yet the shape inside them felt sharp.

Rare beasts.

The moment that phrase entered the air, something changed in Osiris.

It was very small at first.

So small that another person might have missed it.

But Isabella did not.

And neither did Zyran.

For some time now, Osiris had been having dreams. He had told no one, because Osiris was foolish in many ways but secretive in his pain. The dreams came in pieces, full of heat, screaming skies, burning trees, wings, blood, and voices he could not fully remember after waking. They left him restless, and though he acted the same as always on the outside, there were moments when his eyes looked farther away than before.

Now, hearing the man mention rare beasts made something in that hidden place inside him rise to the surface.

So Osiris spoke.

His voice was flat, but there was a dangerous edge under it.

"What kind of rare beasts?"

The messenger turned to him.

He answered as if the question meant nothing.

"It could be anything," he said. "Powerful beasts are always useful. Fire beasts too."