The Spoilt Beauty And Her Beasts-Chapter 152: Do you think you could purify all the water sources in the village?

Before Isabella could even consider rejecting him, a voice chimed in from the side. It was Luca, who, having witnessed the whole interaction, immediately stepped forward with an almost smug air. "He’s right, you know. You’re not supposed to be standing for too long or staying out in the open for too long. You’re just getting better."

Opehlia nodded eagerly in support.

Isabella froze, her lips parting slightly in surprise. The sudden shift from Cyrus’s gentle offer to Luca’s practical statement left her speechless for a beat. Her body may have been tired, but her pride was not so easily shaken. "..."

But then, just as quickly, she realized something—a warmth spread through her chest at the fact that Cyrus, despite his exhaustion, was still offering himself up to make her comfortable. Even in his weakened state, his concern for her wellbeing was clear. The thought made her feel something she hadn’t quite been able to put into words. It wasn’t just kindness—it was an odd, quiet sort of care.

Isabella hesitated for only a moment longer, before her eyes dropped to her legs. She couldn’t deny the discomfort. The more she thought about it, the more her legs screamed in protest, the fatigue settling in like a heavy weight. She had been standing too long, waiting for Kian to return, but he was taking his sweet time. At this rate, she might fall over before he even showed up.

With a deep sigh, she let her shoulders relax, the weight of the decision lifting slightly. "Fine," she muttered, finally conceding. She turned to sit, her gaze shifting from Cyrus’s tail to the ground. "I’ll take a seat."

Glimora, who had been perched on her shoulder the entire time, chirped in a small, almost possessive way as if claiming her place beside Isabella, and scrambled onto her lap. Isabella smiled faintly, stroking the creature’s small fur.

As she settled herself down, her mind immediately began to shift gears, already retreating into the depths of her thoughts. She had so much on her plate—so many plans swirling around in her head.

While her physical fatigue may have forced her to sit, her mind was far from resting. She had already started making some moves, testing things in secret, seeing what worked. And, despite the silence around her, she was already thinking ahead.

She had created some changes, little things at first, testing them on a small scale. The villagers needed more than just the usual scraps and tired traditions—they needed something real, something sustainable.

She had already figured out how to distribute resources in a way that would help them cultivate and thrive, but there was one thing left to do. One question that would determine the next steps.

Would Kian allow her to distribute them to the villagers?

A small, almost mischievous smile curled at her lips. She knew the answer already—it was just a matter of timing. And she was done waiting. It was time for change. Real change. The kind that would shake the roots of everything they had known.

Kian would come around. Eventually. She just had to make sure she had everything in place first. He had trusted her before, after all. And this time, it would be no different.

Her thoughts drifted back to the present. The coolness of the air brushed against her skin, and she absentmindedly adjusted Glimora, who had shifted positions on her lap. The village would be better, she thought. They just needed the right push.

And, for once, she allowed herself to rest—if only for a moment—sitting on Cyrus’s offered tail with the quiet hum of anticipation filling her chest.

Opehlia, with her usual bubbly demeanor, broke the comfortable silence. "Cyrus, since you were able to purify the well, do you think you could purify all the water sources in the village?" she asked, her tone full of hope and curiosity.

Isabella’s eyes widened at the question. It was a simple suggestion, one that seemed so obvious in hindsight. But as she looked at Cyrus, remembering the toll purifying the well had taken on him, she quickly dismissed it. After all, Cyrus had looked absolutely drained after the well.

No, that wasn’t an option. But she couldn’t help glancing up at him, her gaze uncertain, as if hoping for some reassurance.

Cyrus, as always, remained calm and collected, a small, warm smile tugging at his lips. His pink eyes met Opehlia’s with a kind, understanding expression, and he replied simply, "I wish I could, but I cannot."

There was no hint of frustration or impatience in his voice—no sign that he was irritated by the question. He had answered it as though it was nothing more than a simple fact.

Opehlia, ever the understanding one, didn’t press him further. She merely nodded, her bright eyes softening with acceptance.

Isabella smiled quietly to herself, watching the exchange between them. It was subtle, but the way Opehlia nodded so easily showed that she wasn’t as suspicious of him as she used to be. It was the same with Luca, who hadn’t spoken much yet, but his once cautious eyes had softened in a way that made Isabella feel a small wave of relief.

They were warming up to him, little by little. Even if in the back of their minds they still saw him as something monstrous, something that wasn’t fully human, there was a shift happening. Slowly but surely, they were beginning to accept him. And that, for Isabella, was a victory in itself.

She took another fruit from the pile, the sweet aroma making her smile slightly. The fruit was a rare treat, but sometimes the peel was stubborn and hard to remove. She sighed in frustration as she twisted the fruit in her hands, trying to get the peel to loosen.

"Ugh," she muttered under her breath, her lips puckering in a pout as she gave the fruit one final, unsuccessful tug. Her fingers were starting to ache from the effort, and she was about to give up when she felt Cyrus’s gaze on her.

"May I?" he asked, his voice low and polite, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

Isabella blinked up at him, startled by the sudden offer. For a moment, she just stared, trying to process what he was about to do. And then it clicked—he wasn’t just offering to help, he was going to peel the fruit for her.

She hesitated for a heartbeat before offering him the fruit, her expression softening into a small, amused smile. "Alright," she said with a bold smile "Thank you."

Cyrus took the fruit from her with gentle hands, his eyes briefly meeting hers in a silent acknowledgment. He expertly peeled the stubborn skin away, his movements swift and smooth, before breaking the fruit into pieces and feeding them to her with a quiet, calm care.

To Isabella, it felt like being treated like a princess. It wasn’t that she was unused to kindness—it was just that Cyrus’s attentiveness felt different. She didn’t mind it at all, in fact, she found herself relaxing into the moment, letting someone else take care of her for once. Why stress herself when someone else was here to help?

Just as she took a bite, savoring the sweet taste, Opehlia’s voice rang out with excitement. "Kian is here!" she exclaimed, her voice almost bouncing with joy.

Isabella’s head snapped up, her heart fluttering for the briefest of moments. She turned instinctively toward the well, her gaze searching.

And there he was—Kian, standing tall and stoic, staring right at her.

The moment their eyes met, Kian’s expression shifted. His gaze flickered briefly before he looked away, diverting his eyes to somewhere else as though to hide whatever it was he was feeling.