These people who did not know who he really was, who did not bow to him as a phoenix, treated him like some normal male who could help carry things and guard fires.
Sometimes, he felt very comfortable.
Sometimes, he felt like he was going to suffocate.
"You look strange," Isabella suddenly said.
Osiris blinked.
When had she stood up and turned around?
Her gaze was sharp, like she could see through his fur cloak.
"I was thinking about your beauty," he replied smoothly. He spread his hands. "The sight of Goddess Isabella standing in golden fields, it is too much for a poor phoenix's heart."
Isabella stared at him for two breaths.
Then she rolled her eyes.
"Go be poor somewhere else," she said. "If you are bored, go and help carry the harvested crops back. If you break anything, I will pluck your feathers and use them as brooms."
Osiris was instantly offended. "You are too cruel to me."
He still obediently took a basket from a villager's hand.
