Meanwhile, Kian, seated beside Isabella, had the beginnings of a smirk tugging at his lips. Oh, he knew that look in her eye. She was winding up for something. And judging by Zyran's growing confusion, it was going to be interesting.
Isabella leaned down a little, locking eyes with Glimora's pitiful face. The pup blinked up at her in silence, waiting for guidance, completely unaware she was about to be weaponized in a petty war.
Then, with exquisite theatrical timing, Glimora's head swiveled toward Cyrus. Her expression was pure betrayal. Those big, wet eyes said, You promised me…
Cyrus froze, spoon halfway to his mouth. The guilt hit him instantly, even though he wasn't sure what exactly he'd done wrong. He set the spoon down slowly, debating whether he should just get up now and fill her bowl or wait to see what Isabella was plotting.
"Someone ate your portion of soup," Isabella murmured, voice rich with fake sympathy, and oh, the way she bit back a smile.
