Just as Isabella finished speaking, Ophelia and Shelia returned, carrying a basket overflowing with herbs and spices.
"We're back!" Ophelia announced cheerfully, but the moment she spotted Cyrus still standing there, her smile wavered.
She hesitated, then forced an awkward grin his way. It was clear she was still nervous around him, but she didn't want to seem rude. After all, if Isabella considered him family, he must be safe… right?
Shelia, however, was far less subtle. She gave Cyrus a slow, assessing once-over, her sharp gaze practically peeling him apart. Unlike Ophelia, she wasn't buying the whole he's-my-brother act. She knew Isabella was lying, and she definitely didn't trust him.
Still, Isabella was protecting him. That was enough—for now.
As long as he didn't bring her trouble, he could live.
Ophelia set the basket down, brushing her hands off on her skirt as Isabella approached, already sifting through the fresh herbs and spices.
