The Spoilt Beauty And Her Beasts-Chapter 70: You were gone for almost TWO days!

The moment Shelia reached them, she didn’t hesitate—her hands landed on her hips, her blue eyes blazing with a mix of worry and frustration.

"ISABELLA."

"SHELIA," Isabella shot back, matching her tone but with an effortless grace that made it sound so much better.

"You were gone for almost TWO days!" Shelia hissed, ignoring her dramatics. "Do you have ANY idea how worried we were? Ophelia was CRYING! The King sent out his best trackers! Even I—" She stopped, inhaled sharply, then exhaled. "We thought something happened to you."

Ophelia, who had definitely been crying, nodded vigorously beside her.

Isabella gasped. "Oh no, not my reputation being so weak that you all assumed I DIED from gathering herbs."

Shelia’s eye twitched. "That’s not—"

But Isabella wasn’t done. She tilted her head, looking at her nails like she was inspecting them. "What’s next? I step outside to get some air, and you all start planning my funeral?"

Shelia groaned, pressing her fingers to her temple.

Ophelia giggled behind her hands.

Even Glimora let out a tiny chirp, like she was amused too.

Shelia, however, was not. She stared at the tiny creature sitting boldly in Isabella’s hands, her brows furrowed.

"...So are we just going to ignore the weird, fluffy thing you’re holding?" she asked, crossing her arms.

Isabella tilted her head. "Excuse you? Weird? Fluffy? This is my precious, one-of-a-kind companion. Her name is Glimora, and she is a gift from the heavens." fɾeewebnoveℓ.co๓

Shelia raised a brow. "From the heavens? Are you sure you didn’t just snatch her from the wild and declare her yours?"

Isabella gasped like she had been personally attacked. "Snatch? Snatch?! How dare you? I rescued her. She was helpless, lost, and sad, and then I came along—like the divine savior that I am—and now she is mine. It was fate."

Glimora let out a tiny, smug-sounding chirp, as if to confirm Isabella’s words.

Ophelia giggled, poking the small creature. "Isn’t she adorable?"

"Yeah, yeah she is" Shelia said a small smile forming before she got curious again. "But what exactly is she?"

Isabella froze.

Right. That part. (Also she has figured out, this won’t be the last time she will be asked this question)

Did she know what Glimora actually was? Absolutely not.

But would she admit that? Over her dead body.

Isabella flipped her hair and gave a casual shrug. "Oh, you know... she’s a... uh... Divine Spirit Beast. Very rare. Probably the last of her kind. Definitely not something peasants like you two would recognize."

Ophelia got confused, was Glimora a divine spirit beast?, or was she a rare sacred mountain creature?

But she simply kept her thought to herself, shaking her head with a smile.

Shelia’s eyes narrowed. "So you’re just making things up now?"

"Am I?" Isabella arched a brow. "Or are you just uncultured?"

Shelia let out a deep sigh. "I swear, every time I talk to you, I feel my brain trying to escape my skull."

Isabella grinned. "That’s because I am too powerful for your simple mind to handle."

Even Glimora puffed up her tiny chest like she agreed.

Shelia just rolled her eyes. "Fine, whatever. Keep your ’Divine Spirit Beast.’ Just don’t come crying to me if it turns out to be some cursed demon rat."

"HOW DARE YOU?" Isabella gasped, clutching Glimora protectively to her chest. "Don’t listen to her, baby. She’s just jealous."

Glimora let out a soft chirp, nuzzling into Isabella’s arms.

{+8 Beast Taming Points}

Ophelia laughed. "She really likes you."

"Of course she does." Isabella flipped her hair, victorious. "Anyway," she said smoothly, "where is the King? Shouldn’t he be storming in, relieved that I, the most radiant being in his village, have returned?"

Shelia rolled her eyes so hard it was a miracle they didn’t fall out. "He was going to, but—" She stopped, and her lips curled like she had just swallowed something sour.

At that reaction, Isabella immediately knew someone annoying was involved.

And she was right.

"Zara." Shelia spat out the name like it was poison.

Ugh. Isabella felt her entire mood shift.

"Let me guess," Isabella sighed, already bored, "she suddenly fell ill?"

Shelia nodded aggressively, her expression filled with pure disgust. "Yes! Like, JUST yesterday. She suddenly collapsed in front of Kian, making a whole SCENE about how she ’couldn’t breathe.’"

Isabella scoffed. "Of course. Because what better way to keep a man from leaving than by pretending to die?"

Shelia threw her hands up. "EXACTLY. And now Kian has been STUCK by her side because who KNOWS what she said to him! He couldn’t even search for you himself because she was all ’Kian, don’t leave me in my last moments’ or whatever nonsense she pulled!"

Ophelia gasped. "She SAID that?!"

Shelia rolled her eyes so hard they might’ve broken. "Probably! I wasn’t there, but I KNOW that woman. She probably acted like she was knocking on death’s door just to keep him from leaving."

Isabella remained quiet.

Not because she had nothing to say—oh, she had PLENTY to say. But there was a small, irritating feeling clawing at her chest.

Jealousy.

Ugly, ridiculous jealousy.

She hated it.

Because why should she care? Kian could do whatever he wanted. He could sit by Zara’s bedside for a YEAR for all she cared.

...Right?

RIGHT?

Ugh. She needed to focus on something else.

"And the well?" Isabella asked, changing the subject.

At that, Ophelia perked up. "Oh! The men stopped working on it once they realized you were missing!"

Silence.

A very thick, suffocating silence.

Isabella’s eye twitched.

"...What."

AT THE WELL’S AREA

Isabella stood before the half-finished well, her gaze sharp despite the warm smile on her lips. The stone lining wasn’t even complete.

"So," she said sweetly, turning to the ten hulking beastmen who suddenly looked very nervous, "why did you stop?"

The men gulped. That smile wasn’t good. They knew better.

That wasn’t a smile of kindness.

That was a smile of absolute destruction.

They braced themselves.

Isabella was about to scold them into another lifetime. And they would take it—because they respected her, feared her, and knew she was absolutely right.