Isabella had been lounging on the wooden log like it was a throne built especially for her—a smirk teasing the corner of her mouth as if she ruled this entire land with nothing but a sharp tongue and sharper instincts.
But the moment Valen said the words, "I came back to the village yesterday and I heard you were hurt," her spine straightened like someone had just declared war on her favorite shoes.
She didn't even look at Opehlia first—her eyes locked on Valen, and something in them sparked.
"Ah-ha!" Isabella said, the sound practically bouncing off the stone walls like the trumpet of justice. "Yes, I'll give you the full story."
Her fingers cracked one by one as she prepared herself, clearly revving up for a performance that belonged on a grand stage somewhere, under torchlight and thunder.
But just as she turned, shoulders back, lips parting for the first epic syllable—
