Isabella lifted her gaze, the smile on her lips light and seemingly unbothered.
"Mr. Steele, you must be joking," she said gently. "I don't have that kind of ability. If you truly want to make me happy, why not return my little flower shop to me instead?"
She spoke as if the request were casual, almost trivial.
"I'm very easy to satisfy," she continued, her tone sincere. "I don't really know how to enjoy things that don't belong to me. Taking them would only feel like a waste."
Accompanying a king was like accompanying a tiger.
For the duration of this agreement, she had only two goals. Protect herself. And reclaim what had always been hers.
There was no reason to provoke the tiger over luxuries she neither needed nor wanted.
Victor Steele didn't respond immediately. His gaze remained fixed on her, steady and unreadable.
Slowly, the smile on Isabella's lips stiffened. What had been natural moments ago became deliberate, carefully maintained.
