His lips twitched as if he wanted to argue but knew better. "Fine. What's next?"
"Now, the tricky part," Isabella said, stretching her arms over her head, making the man's gaze flicker—just for a second—before snapping back to her face.
He was obvious. It was almost cute. Almost. "We need to hollow out the bowl of the spoon."
He stared at her. "How?"
She grinned. "Fire."
His eyes lit up. "Now we're talking."
Shelia, who had been watching in amused silence, scoffed. "Oh, now you're interested? You were acting like carving wood was the worst torture known to beastmen just a minute ago."
The man shot her a flat look but ignored her, clearly too proud to admit that Isabella's method had piqued his interest.
Ophelia hummed, tilting her head as she examined the barely formed spoon. "I still don't get why we need this. We have hands."
Isabella gasped dramatically. "Hands?! How dare you disrespect the sacred art of utensils!" She clutched her chest like she'd just been stabbed.
