"What is this?"
Isabella turned to see a woman standing beside the Lion King.
She was tall, broad-shouldered, and dressed in a wrap of fur and leather. Her dark, wild hair was adorned with small bones, and her golden eyes narrowed in disgust.
She looked Isabella up and down, wrinkling her nose. "Did you pull this thing out of a swamp?"
Isabella clenched her jaw. "I can hear you, you know."
The woman snorted. "Good. Then you know how bad you smell."
The guards barely concealed their amusement.
Isabella stiffened, her pride roaring to life.
She might be dirty. She might be injured, exhausted, and on the verge of elimination from existence.
But she would not be insulted by some side character with an attitude problem.
The Lion King, meanwhile, looked completely uninterested in the conversation.
He leaned his chin against his hand and stared at Isabella like she was nothing more than a mild inconvenience.
"You," he said, voice deep and commanding. "Why are you here?"
