Isabella just stood there, hair slightly frizzed from humidity, clutching her fan, staring like she'd just been publicly roasted while he laughed heartedly.
"…What?" she said finally. "What's so funny?"
But the phoenix man only kept laughing, bright, rich, and maddeningly confident, like he'd just found the whole universe hilarious at her expense.
The man laughed. And laughed. And laughed.
It started as a short, startled sound—then it grew. Louder. Deeper. Until the entire cave was echoing with the sound of his laughter. Water rippled across the pond, little glowing creatures darted away in alarm, and even Glimora flinched and covered her tiny ears with her little hands.
Isabella just stood there, staring at him, mouth open in disbelief.
This man—this half-dead, wingless, dramatic phoenix of a man—was laughing like someone had just told him the funniest joke in the world.
She crossed her arms, waiting.
He kept laughing.
She tapped her foot.
He still kept laughing.
