The mont the words left his mouth—"You’re too small for "—Isabella’s brain did a hard reboot.
Not a soft reset.
No.
A full "the screen went black, the loading circle is spinning, please wait" type of reboot.
Her mouth fell open. Her eyes widened. Her soul floated out of her body, looked down at the scene, and said, "Wow. We’re being bullied today."
She stared at him.
She stared DOWN at herself.
She stared UP at him again.
She stared around in case the universe wanted to provide witnesses to this cri.
Nothing.
Only trees.
Wind.
Glowing plants.
Glimora blinking innocently.
And this six-foot-plus phoenix bastard with no wings but still managing to act like a celestial deity supervising his tiny confused disciple.
She finally managed to croak out, "W–what did you just say?"
Osiris crossed his arms, completely unfazed. "You heard ."
"You—" She pointed at herself. "?"
"Yes."
"SMALL?"
"Yes."
"AS IN..." She waved her hands up and down her body. "THIS ?!"
He gave her one of those slow, calm nods that made her want to kick him in the shin.
She gasped—loudly.
The trees echoed it back.
Birds took flight.
Even the wind seed to pause as if it had never heard such accusation before.
"Oh no... oh no, no, no," Isabella muttered, stepping back dramatically, hand pressed to her chest like she’d been shot. "This man—this man thinks I’m SMALL."
She paced in a tiny circle, Glimora bouncing in her arms from the sudden movents, staring at her with round judgntal eyes like, mother, what are we doing again?
Isabella grabbed her boobs with one hands like soone checking if a priceless family heirloom had suddenly gone missing.
Her fingers squeezed, lifted, adjusted.
She even tilted her upper body forward slightly — for science.
Her face, anwhile, went through twenty-seven different expressions in under five seconds:
confusion → panic → denial → suspicion → rage → tears → acceptance → denial again.
"No, no, they’re still here," she whispered dramatically, like she was narrating a tragic docuntary.
She gave them another experintal bounce.
Her eyes sharpened like she was examining sacred treasure.
"They are still here. They didn’t shrink."
She nodded, reassuring herself. "They look normal. Normal-sized."
Another bounce. "Beautiful, even."
A third bounce with extra force. "Perfect, actually."
Osiris watched this with an expression so unreadably blank that it beca insulting.
She snapped her gaze back at him with the fury of a thousand suns.
He looked down at her—literally down, because he was taller—and raised one brow.
One.
Brow.
"You’re too small for ," he repeated like it was a weather report.
Isabella made a noise that was half-hiccup, half-scream.
"I CANNOT BELIEVE THIS," she shrieked. "YOU HAVE NO RIGHT—NO RIGHT AT ALL—to insult when you literally woke up with NO WINGS. Do you hear ?! You have no wings. ZERO. ZILCH. NONE."
Osiris shrugged, absolutely shaless. "Still tall."
Isabella’s jaw dropped open so wide Glimora tried to poke inside like is it safe?
"You—" she jabbed her finger at his face "—arrogant, ridiculous, peacock-faced, featherless, wingless creature!"
He actually had the nerve to look mildly offended. "Peacocks and phoenixes are not the sa."
"Oh, I’m well aware!" she snapped. "At least peacocks HAVE wings!"
Osiris’s nostrils flared. Just a little. "That is unnecessary."
"UNNECESSARY?!" Isabella’s voice cracked like a poorly tuned flute. "SIR, YOU INSULTED MY ENTIRE EXISTENCE."
He blinked slowly. "I only said you’re too small for ."
"STOP SAYING IT!"
"I’m just being honest."
She froze.
Her eye twitched.
Then she inhaled like a dragon preparing to burn villages.
"Honesty," she whispered. "HONESTY? OKAY. OKAY. FINE."
She turned dramatically. She threw her hair over her shoulder with enough force to smack a squirrel unconscious. She placed Glimora on the ground gently—Glimora stepped aside quickly like, I don’t want smoke with mother right now—and then Isabella stood there with her hands on her hips.
She spun back to him.
"LISTEN TO ," she said, pointing at her face. "Everyone—EVERYONE WANTS ."
Osiris actually had to hold back a laugh. His lips twitched.
Isabella didn’t miss it. Oh, she didn’t miss anything.
"That was a smirk," she accused.
"No," he said blankly.
"You SMIRKED."
He cleared his throat. "You imagined it."
"I SAW IT."
"You didn’t."
"OH, I SAW IT," Isabella barked. "DO NOT GASLIGHT ."
Now Osiris did smile—a small, amused, infuriating little curve of his mouth like watching a baby animal try to fight a boulder.
"I’m not gaslighting you," he said calmly. "You’re simply being dramatic."
That was it.
THAT WAS IT.
The earth beneath Isabella cracked from how hard she stomped her foot.
"I AM A GODDESS!" she announced to the entire mountain range. "A DIVINE, BEAUTIFUL, PERFECT GODDESS. Do you hear ?! My beauty shines brighter than the stars!"
Osiris tilted his head. "You are loud."
"LOUD?!" She jabbed her fan at him. "LOUD?! I AM GRACING YOU WITH MY PRESENCE!"
He nodded politely. "Thank you."
She stared.
He stared.
Glimora stared at both like, you both need therapy.
Finally Isabella threw one hand dramatically into the air.
"Oh, please!" she said loudly. "Everyone wants ! I am PERFECT!"
Osiris didn’t miss a beat.
"You’re too small for ." He repeated for the 100th ti just to spite her.
Silence.
A long, thick silence where even the wind refused to move.
Isabella blinked once.
Twice.
Three tis.
Her soul briefly visited her ancestors for strength.
She slowly looked down at her chest again as if maybe—MAYBE—her boobs had betrayed her and shrunk during the night.
Still there.
Still full in her eyes.
She cupped them.
Osiris’s brow shot up. "Why are you checking them again?"
"I—" she choked. "I AM REEVALUATING MY LIFE."
"There’s not much there," he added helpfully.
She exploded.
"OH MY—YOU KNOW WHAT?!" Isabella shouted, throwing both hands into the sky as though calling upon heavens for divine patience. "I AM NOT DOING THIS. I AM NOT DOING THIS!"
She stomped away again, the ground practically vibrating from her fury.
Osiris followed.
Naturally.
"Isabella," he called, "you still haven’t answered my question!"
"Ahhhhhhhhh!!!" She scread from frustration.
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