The floors were stone, the doors were heavy wood, the walls held claw marks in some places from work and old fights, and the furs hanging along the corridors moved softly whenever wind slipped through.

Kian walked beside her slowly.

Too slowly, in Isabella’s opinion.

She looked up at him. "I can walk faster than this."

"You can," Kian said. "You will not."

She blinked. "Did you just order me?"

He looked down at her with calm blue eyes. "Yes."

Isabella stared at him.

Then she laughed under her breath. "You are becoming very bold."

"I am the king."

"And I am pregnant."

"That is why I am walking slowly."

She had no good answer for that, so she only clicked her tongue and let him guide her.

By the time they reached the stone discussion hall, the messenger from First City was already waiting.

He stood when they entered.

His eyes first went to Kian, then to Isabella, and then, very briefly, to her stomach. That glance was quick, but Kian saw it. His fingers at Isabella’s side tightened for one second, and the messenger looked away at once with the wisdom of someone who understood that staring at a lion king’s pregnant female could shorten his life.

The room had a long stone table, heavy wooden seats covered in fur, and a fire pit burning at one side. Everything was practical, strong, and warm. Spears stood along one wall. Dried herbs hung near the fire. A map made from hide and carved wooden pieces rested on a side table. The whole place said clearly that this was a beast world palace built by people who had survived winter, hunger, teeth, and betrayal.

Isabella sat only after Kian helped her.

The messenger bowed with careful respect. "Lady Isabella. King Kian."

Isabella smiled.

It was a soft smile.

A very dangerous one.

"You came for an answer," she said.

The messenger looked at her with the same polite face he always wore. "First City hoped you would consider the path of friendship."

"Friendship," Isabella repeated, as if tasting the word and finding it too bland.

The messenger did not flinch. "A strong hand joined with another strong hand can shape the future."

Isabella leaned back slightly, one hand resting over her stomach. "That sounds very pretty."

He lowered his head a little. "It is also true."

"Maybe," Isabella said. "But I do not need First City’s hand to rise."

The messenger’s eyes changed slightly.

Only slightly.

Kian saw it.

Isabella also saw it, and her smile grew sweeter.

"My people already have food, work, shelter, training, order, and purpose. The walls are rising. The children are learning. The hunters are stronger. The women are safer. The weak are no longer thrown away just because someone more powerful wants the best meat and the warmest furs. So tell me, messenger, what exactly is First City giving me that I cannot build with my own hands?"

The room fell quiet.

The messenger had expected refusal, perhaps.

But not this kind.

He looked at her more carefully now.

This pregnant female sitting in thick furs looked soft at first sight. Her face had that bright beauty pregnancy had only deepened, and her body looked warm and heavy with life. But her eyes were clear. Too clear. She spoke like someone who had already counted all the pieces on the board and found his offer lacking.

He said, "First City has power that no village can match."

Isabella smiled. "Then it should keep that power and enjoy it."

The messenger’s mouth tightened almost invisibly.

Kian’s blue eyes stayed on him like frost.

Isabella continued, her voice still calm. "Also, since First City likes rare beasts so much, let me make one thing clear. No one under my roof, no one in my walls, and no one who carries my protection will be taken, traded, used, tested, burned, bled, or offered for any altar."

The messenger went still.

There it was.

The hidden blade.

She had not said phoenix.

She had not said Osiris.

She did not need to.

"Your meaning is heavy," the messenger said softly.

"My meaning is clear," Isabella answered. "You may carry it back carefully." 𝕗𝐫𝚎𝗲𝘄𝐞𝕓𝐧𝕠𝘃𝕖𝐥.𝐜𝚘𝚖

For the first time, the messenger’s polite face showed something closer to respect.

It was not warmth.

It was not friendship.

It was the kind of respect one gave to a sharp cliff after realizing it would not move just because the wind spoke nicely to it.

He bowed again. "Then First City will receive your answer."

"It will."

He straightened, and his gaze moved once more around the hall, not greedily this time, but with the mind of a man measuring danger. He saw the fire pit, the guards outside the doorway, the strong stone walls, the signs of growth, and the white lion king standing beside the pregnant ruler like a living death sentence.

Then he looked at Isabella and understood something important.

Her decision would cause war.

Maybe not openly today.

Maybe not with drums and shouted threats.

But this refusal, tied with her growth and her protection of rare blood, would not sit quietly in First City. If they were careful, perhaps they would wait. If they were greedy, they would move sooner. And from what he had already seen of First City’s hunger, he doubted they would wait long.

Still, she was not yet a threat large enough to crush in broad daylight.

That made her more dangerous in another way.

She was still growing.

He bowed one last time. "May your winter remain kind."

Isabella’s smile turned faintly amused. "Winter rarely listens to anyone."

The messenger paused.

Then he actually gave a small respectful nod, turned, and left.

Kian watched him until the sound of his steps faded.

Only then did Isabella let out a slow breath.

"There," she said. "Done."

Kian looked down at her. "You should go back and rest."

"I know."

He did not believe that answer at all.