Before Isabella agreed to follow Cyrus, her eyes did a quick sweep across the crowd.
The villagers were still gathered near the well, sweat-soaked and quiet—but the longer she looked, the less she liked what she saw. Their eyes weren't just curious.
There was a wild glint there. A hunger. Something primitive lurking beneath the surface.
She didn't trust it.
No, something in her gut told her that the second she left this place unattended, these people—especially the ones who hadn't lifted a single finger—would swarm the well like flies.
She had just created the most important resource in this damn village, and it would not be wasted on fools who didn't know patience or order.
Her gaze sharpened and she shifted her weight subtly, pulling Glimora closer against her side.
