Last Born Of The Desdemona

Chapter 35: Chapter 35: I win?

Chapter 35 – I win?

The green-haired elderly woman ran with a speed unbefitting to her age. Wind hushed under her feet, propelling her faster than expected.

But in her haste and worry, she didn’t notice the flickering crimson fire just beside the kneeling couple, and walked straight through it.

She was unharmed, the fire was too weak to hurt her.

Her clothes were not so lucky.

The black and purple maid clothes of the Amaris Household caught fire at the bottom, Cassius’s flame burning hungrily upward.

”Careful!” Cassius managed to say, watching the woman squat at Isolde’s right side, fumbling with healing potions from her ring.

His voice made both Isolde and the elderly woman notice the burning scent at the same time.

Their eyes snapped toward it, and found the woman’s thighs completely bare.

Cassius’s eyes narrowed instinctively, though he was too exhausted to see properly.

’What is that?’ He thought, looking at what appeared to be a tattoo on the now exposed left thigh.

A tattoo of a fang, long and sharp.

’What—!’

His thoughts cut off as exhaustion swallowed him whole. He lost consciousness on Isolde’s shoulder with a low thud.

Meanwhile, the elderly woman had already waved the fire away with ridiculous ease, both hands pressed firmly over her right thigh where the tattoo was.

She lifted her head gingerly, and found the murderous glare of Isolde waiting for her.

”I-I am sorry, my Lady!” She drove her forehead into the floor, trembling. ”I didn’t see the fire! I didn’t—!”

”Shut your mouth.” Isolde grated, her purple eyes blazing so brightly the world around seemed to bleed purple.

She twisted her lips at the trembling woman, wishing to do more than just glare. But this wasn’t the time. She turned toward Cassius instead.

He was still breathing, but he needed a healing potion, and fast.

”Give me the Tier Five Healing Potion, Aissatou.” She ordered.

Aissatou finally lifted her swollen-faced head, and the surprise on it was plain.

’Tier Five?’

Her Lady only had two of them, given her weak standing in the household. Yet she was freely giving one to the Desdemona’s spawn?

’What happened here?’ She knew better than to ask that question after her blunder.

So she said nothing, reached into her ring, and handed the potion over. Isolde took it without looking at her.

She grasped Cassius’s head, tilted it backward, forced his mouth open, and poured the Tier Five potion down his throat.

”You owe me, bastard.” She muttered, inwardly puzzled at what she was doing.

Why was she healing a man she was supposed to kill?

She didn’t know. And strangely — or maybe not so strangely — she didn’t want to know.

Because knowing would mean accepting that this young bastard had gotten under her skin. Accepting that she was being pulled in by his audacity and his presence.

Accepting that she was, inwardly, happy to be seen...to be worth something to someone.

Worth so much that the person was ready to die just to be with her.

That was what accepting it meant. But every time that realisation grew clear in her mind, the image of her sister rose to replace it.

And Isolde closed her heart, pressed her lips together, wondered quietly how long this one would last...

’...before you take him from me too, sister?’

She shook her head, wryly and painfully, and continued healing him without minding her own wounds. She let her true Essence loose, her high constitution already working to stitch herself back together.

Aissatou watched in hidden dismay, face revealing nothing. She kept her mouth shut and her thoughts to herself.

’Cassius Desdemona... who is he, really?’

...

After finishing her duty, Aissatou left the two alone, exactly as she had been ordered by the Matriarch. She stood outside Isolde’s Pavilion, where Océane sat, the maid’s mind churning with a thousand questions about her young master.

An hour after the duel, Cassius stirred awake.

He found himself on Isolde’s bed. The woman herself was at the table eating like she had no manners whatsoever, pieces of meat dripping as she went.

”Ah.” Isolde scoffed the moment she saw him move. ”Sleeping beauty’s awake?”

Cassius didn’t answer immediately. His mind was still fuzzy, memories surfacing slowly: the duel, his wounds, the First Loop closing...

’Ah!’ He exclaimed inwardly. ’The full integration of the dual wielding Adaptation knocked me out?’

It seemed so. His body and brain had needed to shift to accommodate it, as it was normally done gradually through long training. With his Innate, Cassius was cutting through months of work in a fraction of the time.

[Welcome back, Cassius.]

’Did you miss me, Queen?’

He finally turned his attention to Isolde eating without a care in the world, her whole mouth smeared with bread and sauce.

His lips pulled into a fond smile.

Ananke rolled her eyes.

[Now I can’t help but ask, why do you call me Queen?] She was genuinely puzzled. Not that she minded, but it had come from nowhere.

’Just because.’ He shrugged internally. ’No particular reason actually. And didn’t I promise you a Church one day? Just like Vorn is called the Lord of Death by all, you will be called Queen of Fate. Sounds cool, doesn’t it?’

He grinned, slowly rising and making his way toward the table.

[...at least you plan to keep your word on one thing.] Ananke replied.

His eyebrows twitched. ’I plan to keep it on the God’s corpse too. Just wait until I find that sneaky bastard. Alright, Queen?’

Ananke rolled her eyes. But a small, almost imperceptible smile crept to the edge of her lips.

”I won, didn’t I?” Cassius finally said, sitting down. He expected the blood-slowing effect of the chair but nothing happened.

He smiled inwardly.

”You obviously didn’t.” Isolde answered, narrowing her eyes. ”You even lost consciousness.” She sneered. ”I hope your pride isn’t too wounded, bastard?”

”Not in the slightest, darling.” He smiled wider, picking up a small bread. ”And the duel was already over by then. It doesn’t count.”

”You still didn’t win.”

”Nor did you.” He looked at her. ”So it’s a draw. Which means we need to choose.”

He lifted one finger. ”Either you accept a hug from me. Duration mine to decide, no negotiation.”

A second finger. ”Or we sleep in the same bed.”

He glanced at the clock on the wall and smiled. ”Perfect timing too. Night has come.”

Isolde paused and looked at him, her mouth still moving with food. By now she knew exactly how stubborn Cassius could be. And she was in no mood to argue at this hour.

’Or maybe I just—!’

She killed the thought before it could fully form.

”You stay a few metres from me.” She warned, pointing her fork at him. ”Come any closer and you will find daggers in your throat before you blink.”

Cassius laughed. ”Don’t forget, darling, you only have one attempt left on my life.” He tilted his head, something occurring to him. ”Why didn’t you—!”

”Shut up and eat!” Isolde cut in, eyes back on her plate, muttering under her breath about how young people these days had no manners.

Cassius startled for a moment, then shook his head. He picked up his knife and fork, sat facing his plate, and did as he was told — deciding to stay quiet.

Then, barely a minute later...

”I forgot to mention.” Isolde said, her voice tight and cold, exactly like the first time they had met. ”On the third and final day, you will meet my mother and...”

She paused, swallowed and shook her head.

”Only my mother.”

She finished with a tone of finality, continuing her food, clearly unwilling to say another word about it.

Cassius looked at her for a moment, then returned to his meal.

”I cannot wait, then, darling.” He said, then frowned, hesitating, ”However...is the food poisoned?”

Isolde lifted her head and grinned evilly at him. Cassius rolled his eyes.

”Damn you, Isolde.”

”Right back at you, bastard.”

—End of Chapter 35—