Chapter 733: Chapter 733: I’m so glad you’re about to give birth, but it could also be the death of you, so I have a business deal for you.

"No."

Isabella turned her head toward Zyran and pointed at Cyrus with one finger. "Look at him. He is."

Zyran crossed his arms and looked at Cyrus with exaggerated seriousness. "He is."

Cyrus looked between the two of them as if they were both impossible. "This is unfair."

Isabella smiled. "Heh."

Then she softened a little and said, "Relax. I told you already. I’m going to give birth soon, not die."

The sentence came out so casually that both men felt something twist inside them anyway.

Because that was exactly the kind of thing that frightened them.

She could still joke.

She could still smile.

She did not know.

The room fell quiet for one small breath again, and when it did, Isabella’s suspicion returned immediately.

"What?" she asked sharply. "Why do you both keep doing that?"

"Doing what?" Zyran asked.

"That look."

"What look?"

"That one." She pointed between them. "That silent one. I hate it."

Zyran and Cyrus looked at each other again purely by accident this time.

That made Isabella sit up more. "I knew it!"

Cyrus reached out at once to steady her because the movement had been too fast, and the moment his hand touched her shoulder, she looked back at him.

He said gently, "Don’t move too quickly."

She narrowed her eyes. "You are changing the topic."

Cyrus did not deny it.

That alone was answer enough.

Then, because the longer he sat there, the more impossible it became to keep pretending this was only a normal morning, he rose from the bed and said, "Tell me what you want to eat."

Isabella watched him.

Still suspicious.

Still annoyed.

Still not truly understanding why the room felt so strange.

But she knew one thing. If Cyrus was asking this carefully, then he had already decided he would not relax until she ate something.

So she leaned back again and thought about it.

"I want something warm," she said after a while. "And soft. And sweet. No, not too sweet. If it’s too sweet, I won’t want it anymore."

Cyrus nodded immediately like a man receiving sacred instructions.

"And something with meat," she added.

He nodded again.

"And fruit after."

Another nod.

Zyran watched this and said, "You obey too fast."

Cyrus looked at him. "Should I argue with her while she is like this?"

Zyran considered it. "Actually, no. That would be stupid."

Isabella watched them and then asked, "Why are you both suddenly acting like I’m made of glass?"

"We are not," Zyran said.

"You are."

Zyran gave her his most innocent face. "You flatter yourself."

She stared at him.

Then at Cyrus.

Then back at Zyran.

"You’re both weird."

Cyrus gave up pretending otherwise and said softly, "Eat first. Complain later."

That answer was so very Cyrus that Isabella’s heart softened even while her mind stayed suspicious.

So she sighed and waved one hand. "Go then. Before I change my mind."

Cyrus hesitated.

Obviously.

He looked at her, then at Zyran, then back at her again.

The hesitation itself was enough to make Isabella groan. "Oh my God. I’m not going anywhere. Look at me. Where will I go?"

Zyran stretched one leg out lazily and said, "If she escapes in this condition, I might actually fall in love."

Isabella looked at him. "You are not helping."

"I never claimed to."

Cyrus finally left after that, though he still looked back once at the door like he wanted to keep half his body in the room.

The moment he was gone, the silence between Isabella and Zyran became noticeable.

And because Zyran was usually incapable of silence unless he was sleeping, dying, or plotting, Isabella immediately looked at him with more suspicion.

He was sitting close now, not too close, but close enough that if she shifted, his hand would probably reach her before she could ask. His red eyes were on her, and there was something too careful in the way he watched her face.

It was strange.

Very strange.

So she asked, "Why are you being sweet?"

Zyran blinked. "I can be sweet."

"No, you can be fake sweet. This is different."

That made him laugh softly. "You wound me again."

She ignored that and kept staring. "What is wrong with you?"

Zyran leaned back slightly and gave her a lazy shrug, but he already knew she had caught something. He had been too careful. Too soft. Too still. And for a man like him, that was practically a confession.

So he said, "Maybe I woke up and decided to be a better man."

Isabella looked at him with complete disbelief. "That is the worst lie I’ve heard this week."

"I’m deeply offended."

"You should be."

He sighed and brushed a hand through his black hair. "You really don’t know how to appreciate growth."

She kept staring.

Then she said slowly, "No. Something is wrong."

Zyran almost cursed in his heart.

This was because she was far too good at reading people once she cared enough to look. He could lie with words all day long, but if his mood moved too far from normal, she would find it eventually.

So for one breath, he thought about continuing the careful sweet act.

Then he realized that if he kept doing it, she would only get more certain.

So he changed tactics.

At once.

His expression shifted, and the quiet concern in him vanished under something much more familiar.

He leaned closer and looked at her with a lazy red-eyed smile. "Fine. Since you noticed, I’ll tell you the truth."

Isabella frowned. "What truth?"

He dropped his gaze meaningfully to her lips, then to the blanket over her body, then back up again.

"The truth is that you look too good lying there, and if I keep sitting this close without saying anything shameless, I may die from the effort."

For one second, Isabella only stared.

Then she regretted asking.

Immediately.

"There he is," she muttered. "I knew it. I knew the real you was still in there somewhere, ruining lives."

Zyran smiled in satisfaction. "Your words are sweet."

"They were not meant sweetly."

"That has never stopped me before."

She turned her face away and huffed. "You are so annoying."

"And yet you called me sweet first."

"That was before you ruined it."

Zyran lowered his voice and said in an especially shameless tone, "Would you like me to ruin it more?"

Isabella snapped her head back so fast that even her hair shifted. "No."

He looked very pleased with himself now.

Good.

That was easier.

Much easier than pretending to be calm and attentive like Cyrus. Zyran did not know how to hold that kind of softness for too long anyway. It sat badly on him. Teasing her, irritating her, making her regret asking questions, now that felt natural.

Still, underneath all that, his eyes kept moving to her face.

To the hand over her stomach.

To the slight strain that still lingered around her when she shifted.

He could not help it.

And maybe because Isabella had already begun seeing too much this morning, she caught even that.

Her expression softened just a little.

Then, before she could say anything else, Bubu’s voice suddenly burst into her mind.

{Good morning, user.}

Isabella blinked.

That was not the strange part.

The strange part was the tone.

Bubu sounded far too cheerful.

Then the system continued brightly, {I’m so glad you’re about to give birth, but it could also be the death of you, so I have a business deal for you.}

And Isabella went completely still.