It was the same city Cyrus had come from. At that time, she had not pressured him about his past.
He always lowered his head whenever the topic came close to his old life, and she had decided to let him speak only when he was ready.
Now that the name had come up again, she slowly turned her gaze to him.
Cyrus immediately stepped back half a pace. His hand tightened around the rope tying the prisoners, and the guilt on his face was more obvious than anything the poachers had confessed.
His shoulders trembled slightly as if he expected her to scold him in front of everyone.
But Isabella only looked at him for a moment before turning away and continuing down the forest path.
She was not going to judge him or question him…not yet. She had lived with Cyrus long enough to know he was not a bad man.
