The Spoilt Beauty And Her Beasts-Chapter 149: The Overly Cute Opehlia

Isabella grinned and gave Glimora a small kiss on the head, which earned her a happy chirp and a tiny tail wag. Then she turned back to Cyrus with a bright smile. "Yes, please."

The moment he moved, a thought flickered through her mind like a light bulb going off.

Wait. This was it. The perfect chance to pull out the Infinite Water Pouch.

She spun toward Ophelia, who was currently mesmerized by the dangling fruits above them, eyes wide and sparkling like she’d just seen a dessert tree.

Clearing her throat dramatically, Isabella put on her most serious expression.

"But I don’t like these ones," she said, pointing with extreme dedication to a completely random spot further down the grove. "I think those will be sweeter."

Ophelia blinked. Her round cheeks puffed slightly as her face scrunched in confusion. There was no difference. Not even a shade lighter. If anything, the ones Isabella pointed at looked exactly the same—just a little further away. ƒгeeweɓn૦vel.com

But hey. Isabella was basically a genius in her eyes. If she said those fruits were sweeter, then by the stars, they must be.

Cyrus gave a small nod, silent as ever, and started toward the other side of the grove without a word.

"Ah, join him too, Ophelia," Isabella added, flicking her hand in a lazy shooing gesture.

Ophelia saluted—saluted!—and scampered after him with all the dedication of a tiny soldier on a mission. Even though there was absolutely no need for backup.

Isabella waited a beat. Then another.

And—go.

In a swift motion, she dipped her hand into her space. The air shimmered slightly, and with practiced ease, she pulled out the Infinite Water Pouch.

It was a medium-sized flask, sleek and smooth, made of a polished silvery-blue leather-like material that shimmered faintly under the dappled sunlight.

Thin golden threads crisscrossed its surface in delicate geometric patterns that pulsed faintly with energy. The cap was shaped like a tiny carved lotus, warm to the touch, and the whole thing gave off the soft scent of fresh rain.

She cradled it like a prized treasure, then uncapped it in one fluid motion. Cool mist whispered from the opening.

Just as she tilted it for a sip—

"Isabella, what is that?" Ophelia’s voice shot through the air like a firework, nearly making her choke on her first taste.

Isabella paused mid-sip.

Of course. Of course they were done already.

Cyrus was standing to the side, holding a handful of fruits like he hadn’t just climbed a tree. Ophelia had posted up right beside him, peeking out from behind his back with sparkling curiosity. Her eyes were laser-focused on the pouch like it was a legendary artifact.

Which, technically, it was.

Cyrus’s gaze was harder to read, but it lingered on the pouch with interest—subtle, quiet, but very much there.

Time to activate: Lying Mode.

Isabella raised the pouch to her lips again and took a long sip like this was the most natural thing in the world and she absolutely wasn’t going to explain herself. She drank with purpose. With poise. With full-blown hydration drama.

Once her thirst was thoroughly quenched, she let out a satisfied sigh and lowered the pouch, a small smile playing on her lips.

Bless you, Bubu, she thought, mentally giving her annoying little system a very reluctant gold star. For all its nagging, this was hands-down the best reward she’d gotten.

Bubu right now (proud system mode)

And the best part? The pouch never ran out. It was like owning a personal spring of endless mountain water. Honestly, it made her feel like a fantasy heroine.

Her thoughts briefly drifted to her pending tasks. If future rewards were anything like this, then maybe—just maybe—she could forgive Bubu for being a royal pain sometimes.

Maybe.

Then she turned back to Ophelia and Cyrus, cheeks aching slightly from how hard she was trying to look casual.

"It’s something I’ve been working on," Isabella said smoothly, forcing her face into the picture of calm confidence.

She was going to start running out of fake projects at this rate.

Seriously, how many times had she said those exact words now?

Oh this? Just a little something I’ve been working on.

Oh, that too? Yep. Homemade.

Custom enchantments, of course.

At this point, if someone asked for blueprints, she might just have to fake a fever and disappear.

And then came the guilt. Not because of the lie—oh no, that part was fine—but because she technically had no clue how to recreate any of this if someone actually asked her to.

Like enhanced clothes?

Where was she supposed to find those materials?

Shoes? Magical tailoring?

She had nothing.

Her thoughts veered to that massive, eerie mountain she had journeyed on before.

It was massive—practically endless—and if she’d already found materials for making skin and health-related products, then why wouldn’t the rest be there too? Besides, she’d barely scratched the surface of the place... and something about it made her skin crawl.

Just remembering it gave her a chill. She shivered, body tensing.

Nope. She was not going back there anytime soon. That place could stay mysterious and full of maybe-danger forever.

"Really?" Ophelia asked with big, sparkling eyes as she stepped closer, staring at the pouch like it held the secrets of the universe.

And just like that, the questions began.

"But it wasn’t here with you before," Ophelia said, eyes narrowing suspiciously in the most innocent way possible. "When did you make it? Ooooh, was it supposed to be a secret? Or like—a surprise? this is part of one of your hidden projects again? Where did you get such material? It’s so pretty! What was the process like, something complicated? Can I touch it?, Wait does..."

The barrage hit Isabella like a rapid-fire spell, each question sharper and more persistent than the last.

Ophelia’s voice rose slightly with each word, like her excitement was inflating her entire body. Her cheeks were puffed, eyes gleaming with admiration, fingers twitching like she was holding herself back from just grabbing the pouch. She even leaned forward on her tiptoes like a child peering into a candy shop window.

Isabella’s left eye twitched. Just slightly.

Mentally, she slammed her forehead against a wall.

Why was this girl so cute?

Anyone else? She would’ve shut them down with a cold stare and a one-liner. Maybe thrown in a fake yawn for good measure.

But this was Ophelia.

Sweet, wide-eyed, baby-faced Ophelia who once tried to braid Glimora’s fur and offered Isabella her last roasted mushroom during lunch.

Isabella sighed internally.

She had a soft spot for her. An embarrassingly soft spot.