A loud clatter sounded from inside. "I'm okay!" she called before sprinting back out with the hide clutched in both hands like a prize.
"I haven't even—Ophelia!" Isabella started to scold, but the girl was already halfway to the river behind the hut, hair flying and slippers forgotten.
Isabella sighed deeply, muttering something under her breath as she rubbed her temple.
"Why do I bother…"
The wind carried the faint sound of a splash, followed by a long, dramatic sigh of delight.
Isabella smiled despite herself and turned back to where Luca stood quietly nearby, arms crossed, eyes thoughtful.
She tilted her head at him and asked casually, "So, Luca… how long have you been working at the palace?"
The question had caught him off guard.
Luca blinked, slightly startled, expecting Isabella to hand him a share of the soap like she did for Ophelia. Instead, here she was—with that curious glint in her eyes—asking questions that felt more loaded than they seemed.
