Isabella straightened up, quickly smoothing down her dress as she put on her most respectable expression.
"Your Majesty," she greeted him politely, dipping her head in what she assumed was an appropriate level of reverence.
Kian, as always, was unreadable. His striking blue eyes remained cold, his towering form unwavering as he studied her.
She lifted her gaze, her smile sly and curious. "What brings you here?"
"My sister," he said flatly, "has been telling me you made pots for cooking and eating."
Isabella's eyes lit up. Oh, so he was interested.
She nodded enthusiastically, fluttering her lashes with an innocent yet unmistakably flirtatious look. Then, stepping a bit closer, she tilted her head, lowering her voice into her most sultry tone.
"Do you want to see them?"
It was the ultimate seduction voice. A perfect ten.
Surely, even a man like him couldn't resist.
But Kian didn't even blink.
Expressionless, he deadpanned, "I can see them clearly behind you."
"…"
…
