Last Born Of The Desdemona

Chapter 30: Chapter 30: Isolde & Cassius [2]

Chapter 30 – Isolde & Cassius [2]

Have you ever felt that feeling?

The one people feel when they stand face to face with the person they never thought they would actually see in real life.

The person who was supposed to be an unreachable dream. Someone at the level of those famous paintings made by the people of Old — paintings one could only see from a distance but never touch.

How would one feel in that situation?

Cassius now knew the answer. It was surreal. And the feeling only grew as he followed behind Isolde, who was leading him through her Pavilion, their steps and the soft clack of his cane quiet against the wooden floor.

To his left was an open courtyard with small purple flowers growing in the grass, paired with a clear water pond. Crows chirped nearby, the sound strangely heavenly despite coming from such creatures of bad omen.

The Butler was no longer with them, having been given strict orders to leave Isolde and Cassius their three days together.

Meals and drinks would be cooked and sent at the right time. All they needed to do was get to know each other before everything was made official.

Cassius didn’t mind that in the slightest. Though he couldn’t say the same for Isolde, who was visibly rattled by what had happened at the gate.

’Must be strange to be noticed by the one you least expected, huh?’

But her guard was still up. Her intent to kill hadn’t wavered.

With that thought in mind, following calmly behind the shaken but still composed Isolde, Cassius took the opportunity to check his Fated Quest.

[Fated Quest: Worthless Husband]

[Description: You have been branded as a worthless husband before you even met your wife. Harsh, but we can’t deny the claim, can we?

Your looks and small tricks might have worked on anyone else. Tough luck. Not this one.

So prove you are not all artifice and nothing underneath.

By the end of these three days, make her change her view of you. In a good way, we stress.]

[Rewards: 5000 VP]

The rewards were oddly generous. But Cassius knew why. Anything connected to a Main Character always paid more.

’I already planned to do this anyway. But the points are a good bonus.’ He thought, attention drifting back to Isolde’s back, feeling that strange absence around her he had only read about in the game.

It was one thing to be told Isolde had near-zero presence, making her effectively invisible most of the time. Another thing entirely to feel it firsthand.

Cassius almost understood those who overlooked her. The gap between her and Anesthesia was so jarring that fate itself could be blamed.

’Two sides of the same coin. Identical, yet completely different.’

He narrowed his eyes as Isolde turned her head and looked at him over her shoulder with a bright, warm smile.

”I am sorry this is taking so long, Young Master.” She said with measured respect, placing him above her as the offspring of a Tier One family. ”We are almost there. Bear with me.”

Cassius caught the fake smile effortlessly, yet mirrored her expression anyway. ”I don’t mind at all. I’ve been sitting the whole trip. A little walking is more than welcome.”

”Oh!” She made a small, cute expression of realisation. ”I am sorry! I forgot to ask how your trip was, Young Master.”

”Insightful,” Cassius answered, spotting a door at the far end of the corridor, ”if you want the truth dressed up in useless politeness.”

Isolde visibly flinched. Cassius had been nothing like she expected. She frowned briefly, a bad feeling beginning to stir, then took three slow breaths before responding. ”What if I want the truth itself?”

”Boring.”

”Still, was it worth it?” She countered, stopping in front of a purple wooden door. She took the handle, shaped like a music note, pressed it down and pulled it open.

She murmured a welcome to Cassius and stepped inside. He followed closely.

The door closed behind them. He took in the room.

Minimalist would have been an understatement. Wide enough to fit two carriages, yet furnished with only a bed, a shelf with a large mirror facing it, and a table flanked by two chairs to the left of the shelf.

Everything black, making it gloomy and unnaturally dark.

At the far right of the wall was another door. The bathroom, Cassius guessed.

His eyes moved to Isolde quietly setting out tea and cookies on the table.

He said nothing, just watched her with an intensity that made her flinch even without looking up.

Strange, she thought inwardly, to be stared at so relentlessly. She suppressed the frown, finished arranging everything, and turned back to Cassius.

Her lips pulled into a soft smile, the scar along her lips giving her a strange kind of charm, as she gestured to one of the chairs.

”Please, Young Master. Shall we talk?”

Cassius neither moved nor answered. He looked at Isolde, then let his gaze drift to the tea, the cookies, the chair itself.

He smiled. The tension in the room thickened instantly, as if some mischievous god had turned the air solid.

”You asked me whether the road was worth it.” He drawled, eyes sliding back to her face. It was still calm, though her mouth was slightly tighter than before.

”Yes?” She managed.

”Well,” he began, ”it will be worth it if you stop pretending to be something you are not. I would love for us to talk directly and honestly, without lies, Isolde.” He said her name with easy familiarity, and stepped forward. Not toward the chair but toward her, where she leaned against the table.

She frowned. ”What do you mean?”

”You know what I mean.” He replied, stopping a few inches from her. She didn’t retreat, holding his red eyes.

She was three years older, yet they stood at the same height.

”Do you want me to spell it out?” Cassius continued. ”Should I mention how the tea is laced with greencask powder to cloud the mind?”

Isolde’s breath caught.

”Or the cookies made from the flesh of a Pride Spider Wraith, to work on someone prideful? You know well how to get under the skin of prideful men, don’t you, Isolde?”

The last traces of warmth left her face, her purple eyes going cold as Cassius’s smile only grew.

”Or the chair itself, designed to slow blood circulation, making everything else work better?”

He cocked his head. ”Do you really want me to keep going, Isolde?”

”Who are you?” Isolde grated, the muscles of her body visibly coiled, fighting the urge to attack.

Her bad feeling had been right.

She had chosen methods subtle enough to avoid drawing the attention of his hidden protectors, nothing that would leave permanent or visible damage.

Yet he had seen through all of it.

’I must—!’

”Who am I?” Cassius echoed, shaking his head. ”I am your husband, of course. And let me tell you what I despise most, Isolde.”

He leaned his face closer, their scents mingling. ”I despise lies and manipulation above everything. So let’s drop all of this. Say it to my face.”

”Say what?” She replied immediately.

”Say that you want to kill me.” Cassius grinned wide. ”Say it because you feel rebellious. Because you want to teach your family a lesson for forcing you into this marriage and selling you off.”

”You are talking nonsense.” Isolde said flatly, though her eyes were beginning to glow faintly with essence.

”Am I?” He tilted his head with amusement. ”Am I also talking nonsense when I say you are jealous of your sister?”

Isolde’s eyes went wide and her body shuddered with restrained fury. But she held.

Cassius wasn’t done.

”Ah, but I can understand that, you see.” He said lazily, his tone deliberately provocative. ”Anesthesia is more talented. More loved. More charismatic. Gentler with the servants. Oh, you are gentle too, but they just like her more. Pahh!”

He laughed, exaggerated and free.

”Who am I kidding?” He looked at her, watching the angry veins snap across her forehead, her lips pressed into a bloodless line. ”Everyone likes her better than you. Even the one you lo—!”

There was no sound.

It felt like the world had been drowned, muffling everything into nothing.

One second Cassius was talking. The next he was hurtling backward, Isolde’s fist connecting with his face and rocketing him into the wall. His back cracked against it.

Pain exploded across his face. He coughed, feeling blood trickling from his nose. He grinned sharply.

’Meh. Lucian’s punch is still harder.’

He shook his head in quiet amusement, looked up, and found Isolde standing there: face rotten with wrath, her purple essence spilling outward in waves, slowly enveloping the room.

The more it spread, the more sound disappeared entirely.

”I will fucking kill you.” Isolde growled, hands clenched into tight, veiny fists, each step toward him making Cassius’s mind disorient as the silence pressed down on his perception.

He marvelled inwardly at her Sound power and marvelled even more at her face right now. His Snake of Adaptability hissed inside his mind, but Cassius dismissed it.

”Aye. There she is. The real one. The one I have been wanting to talk to.” Cassius laughed, still on the floor, wiping the blood from his nose with the back of his hand.

He looked up at her with a wild grin. Isolde inwardly rattled by his reaction...or lack of one.

”Now, before you decide to kill me, dear wife, how about a talk? This time with no bloody pretence.”

’Who the fuck is this man?’

—End of Chapter 30—