The Spoilt Beauty And Her Beasts-Chapter 622: He said I look like a rabbit rolling down a hill
Snow fell again that morning, soft and fine.
The village moved in its usual winter rhythm. Men rotated on the walls, smoke drifted from the meat houses, and the academy children sat near a fire, practicing their crooked marks under Ophelia and Shelia’s supervision while Isabella checked storage records nearby.
Osiris was bored.
He sat on a stone fence, legs swinging, watching Isabella’s back as she worked.
Her thick winter dress could not hide the roundness of her stomach or the way her movements had become slower, heavier. The sight made his chest feel strange.
He did not want to admit he was worried.
So he did what he always did.
He decided to cause trouble.
"Isabella," he called lazily. "You are writing again. Do you not trust your own head. You will lose your brain from too much scratching."
She did not look up.
"Someone in this village has to use their brain," she replied. "If I rely on you, the sky will fall."
The children nearby snickered quietly.
Osiris jumped down and strode closer, folding his arms.
He leaned over the stone table she was using, trying to block her view.
"You should rest," he said. "Look at your feet. They are swelling. Your ankles look like small tree trunks. Are you sure they will not snap."
Isabella’s hand paused.
She turned her head slowly and stared at him.
"Osiris," she said, in a flat tone. "Do you want to die."
He smiled brightly.
"I am only telling the truth," he insisted. "You are very big now. If you keep walking around, you will fall over. It will be like a fat rabbit tumbling down a hill."
Her eye twitched.
The children gasped.
"Did he just call our goddess fat," one boy whispered.
"He is dead," another answered. "We should build him a grave."
Isabella took a deep breath.
She knew she should not get too angry. She knew being pregnant made her temper shorter. She knew Osiris was an idiot.
Even so, hearing the word "fat" from a phoenix’s mouth made all her calm training break.
"You bad brained bird," she snapped. "You are the fat rabbit. Your head is empty. If I was not carrying these babies, I would beat you until your feathers grew out from your backside."
Osiris put his hands behind his head, unbothered.
"You cannot hit me," he reminded her. "Your males will stop you. And even if you try, you will get tired halfway. You might fall asleep on the floor."
The picture of herself falling asleep in the middle of hitting him was so ridiculous that Isabella wanted to laugh. At the same time, her throat tightened.
Her body was heavier. Her back hurt. She could not move the way she used to. She had accepted that willingly for her children, but having this dumb phoenix throw it in her face like a joke made her heart sting.
Her eyes burned.
She did not want to cry in front of him, but her nose already felt stuffy.
"You are really mean," she said, voice going soft and shaky before she could stop it. "I am doing all of this for you idiots. I am working and carrying two babies. You stand there and call me fat rabbit."
Osiris’s smile froze.
Wait.
This was not the reaction he had expected. He did not mean to make her cry in anyway. She usually scolded him whenever he was like this. But now she was crying?
Osiris started panicking internally at the sight of tears welling up in Isabella’s eyes.
He had thought she would throw something at him. He had even prepared to dodge. He had not prepared for her eyes to turn shiny with tears.
She tried to turn away from him, lifting a hand to wipe her face, but she was too late.
A tear already slipped down her cheek.
The children’s eyes grew round.
"Goddess is crying," a girl whispered, horrified. They all turned to glare at Osiris ready to beat up the huge mean male.
Osiris panicked inside.
"Ah. Isabella, I did not mean it," he began. "You are not fat. You are... healthy. Strong. Radiant. I was just..."
He reached out in a clumsy attempt to pat her shoulder.
Before his hand could touch her, a shadow fell between them.
Cyrus appeared like a snake that had smelled fire.
He had been on the other side of the courtyard, checking drying herbs, when he heard Isabella’s voice trembling. His heart had leapt into his throat.
Now he stood in front of her, eyes cold for once.
"What are you doing," he asked Osiris quietly.
The gentle snake was gone. In his place, for a moment, stood someone who had survived chains and masters, someone who knew how to be dangerous.
Osiris’s hand dropped.
"I did not do anything," he said quickly. "We were just talking."
Isabella sniffed.
"He called me fat," she complained, her voice thick. "He said I look like a rabbit rolling down a hill."
Cyrus’s pupils narrowed.
He turned his head slowly toward Osiris.
"You bullied her," he said.
Osiris raised both hands.
"I was joking," he protested. "She always calls me dumb and bad brained. I did not think..."
Zyran arrived next.
He had been half napping on a low wall in his usual lazy posture, but he always kept one ear on Isabella’s direction. The moment he heard her say "you are really mean" with that trembling tone, he moved.
Now he dropped down beside Cyrus, red eyes sharp.
"What did this bird do," he asked, smiling without warmth. "Did he make our goddess cry."
"Yes!" The children who had witnessed everything that happened immediately answered.
Osiris took half a step back.
"Wait," he said, nervousness creeping into his voice. "She is exaggerating. I only said she should rest more."
"Are you calling me a liar," Isabella shot back at once.
That sentence was like dropping oil on an open fire.
Cyrus’s jaw tightened. Zyran’s smile widened in a way that made everyone else step away.
"You called her fat," Cyrus said.
"You made her cry," Zyran added.
Osiris’s eyes darted between them.
"It is a misunderstanding," he tried again. "Really. I can explain."
"You can explain while running," Zyran suggested.
He transformed and pounced.
Cyrus followed, not as fast, but just as determined.
