The servants, initially frozen in shock, erupted into a flurry of activity. Some rushed to assist Isolde, who was struggling to regain her footing, while others discreetly retreated indoors, their curiosity tempered by a healthy dose of fear. The tension in the air was palpable, a stark contrast to the joyous reunion moments before.
Eliana, finally realizing the awkwardness of the situation, reluctantly pulled away from Sebastian, her cheeks flushed with a mixture of embarrassment and lingering passion. She cast a nervous glance at Isolde, who was now dusting herself off, her expression a mask of barely contained fury.
"Isolde," Sebastian acknowledged, his voice laced with a hint of amusement. "I trust your journey was uneventful?"
Isolde's eyes narrowed, her jealousy simmering beneath the surface. "Hardly," she retorted, her tone clipped. "Being slung over your shoulder like a sack of potatoes is not my idea of a pleasant trip."
