Last Born Of The Desdemona

Chapter 46: Chapter 46: Strange Confession

Chapter 46 – Strange Confession

Fear was a poison. An even greater poison than any person could ever be. But in Isolde’s eyes at that instant, there was no difference.

In that dreadful moment — where time seemed to come to a complete standstill, as if unwilling or simply unable to flow the way it always had — fear was Cassius, and Cassius was fear.

Her throat went completely dry under the weight of his piercing red eyes, waiting, urging her to answer.

It was one thing to internally accept the poison of someone’s love. It was another thing entirely to admit it to the person themselves, without folding like a coward.

But Isolde couldn’t truly be blamed for it. The last time she had felt genuine love from someone was so far in the past that all the memories of being hurt and ignored had buried it completely.

So she stood there, right at the threshold of something that had become entirely unknown to her brain and body: the real possibility of being loved.

And oh, here the irony of ironies, the paradox of paradoxes: Isolde had lived in grim pain for being unloved by all.

Yet now, standing in front of Cassius, she was afraid of the love and affection burning openly in the man’s eyes — the way a vampire fears a blazing sun.

Hot. Searing. All-encompassing. Suffocating in its intensity.

Would she survive the burn? Or, to be more pessimistic about it, would she even be able to live if all of this turned out to be false?

’I don’t know. I don’t know! I truly don’t!’ Isolde wanted to scream it at him, the urge so overwhelming that she gripped his shirt in both fists, trembling badly.

Cassius saw all of it. He saw the fear, the doubt, the uncertainty. He saw every bit of it, and stood there like something carved by a god, watching.

This was not his battle. This was Isolde’s inner demon, and it had to be hers to overcome. He had done everything he possibly could to show his sincerity and love.

Now...

’It’s your turn, Isolde.’ He thought, his face unchanging. ’It’s your turn to choose me...just as I have chosen you.’

And it seemed that intent reached her.

Isolde bit her lips hard, hard enough that blood swelled, and shut her eyes.

Darkness took her mind. And within it, memories flashed.

First came the humiliations by her sister with Emrys wearing an embarrassed smile as he told her it was Anesthesia he loved, not her.

But then, as if by some quietly merciful force, those memories were swept aside and new ones took their place:

The first time she saw Cassius at the gate, his eyes finding her instantly, as if made for nothing else. Oh, she remembered how her heart slammed so hard it had nearly come out of her throat.

Then his provocations. His deal. The three attempts. The duel. That night, smoking together, with not a single judging look.

Just quiet, unconditional acceptance of who she was, one that confirmed most deeply by his answer to her question.

Why me?

Why not you?

Yes. Why not her? Who in the hell had made her believe she was not worthy of love? Just who?

And after the victory against Anesthesia and Emrys, Isolde knew the answer.

’It was me all along.’ She smiled sadly, understanding settling. ’I was the one who decided I was unworthy, because my family discarded me.’

It was partly true. But at the beginning — before she was completely lost in self-loathing and fear — there had been reasons to believe she was worthy. Few, perhaps. But they had existed.

She had just chosen to feed on the bad instead. And her mind had consumed it, fortified it, built it into a core part of her identity.

And so the world around her had simply reflected what she believed about herself.

No magic. No curse. Just perception.

’But not anymore.’ She opened her eyes. Cassius was exactly where she had left him, not having moved a millimetre.

Changing a belief about yourself should have been hard. But if there was even one person in the world who saw in you what you wished to see in yourself...it became considerably easier.

’You already said it, Isolde Amaris.’ She thought clearly. ’He is poison. But you are a bloody assassin, you deal with poison daily. He is like a burning sun that wants to reduce you to ashes. But you have spent years absorbing the blistering existence of your sister and childhood friend. If he is a sun, they were stars. So what exactly are you still hesitating for?’

That question had dozens of answers. Isolde shut them all down.

It was no longer time to question. It was time to choose, and that, even if she wasn’t ready. She would have to become ready during the process.

So with every shred of courage she could pull from her body, her mind, and her soul:

”I am older than you,” she said, a touch of annoyance in her voice, ”but you make me feel like the younger one.”

”Don’t be shy.” Cassius let out a quiet smile. ”The matters of the heart are my domain. Let me guide you.”

”Will you then not lead me somewhere that causes my end?” She asked, laying her heart bare, her instincts screaming at her to stop.

She refused.

Cassius’s smile deepened. ”Your end would be my end. And I will not walk a path that ends me.”

”I tried to kill you, bastard.”

”I know, darling.”

”I am an assassin, bastard.”

”I know, darling.”

”I will kill many people in my life. Innocent or guilty, if they are in my way, it doesn’t matter to me, Cassius.”

”I know, darling.”

”I want my family to pay for discarding me. I want them to feel what I have felt...and worse.”

”If that is truly what you want,” he whispered, ”and not something you feel you need to do to prove your worth to them and to yourself...”

Isolde trembled at that.

”...then yes, I will be beside you. But if not, I will not let my wife be destroyed by something she believed would give her relief, only to find herself buried under mountains of regret. And as The Tales of The Fool says: regret is—”

”—immortal.” Isolde finished, breath caught.

”Yes. It never disappears. So let’s try to create as few as possible.”

They both understood that no one could live a life entirely without regret. But one could — at least — make those regrets bearable. Because some of them, left untended, would shatter your soul entirely.

And that day, Isolde knew that the regret of not choosing love despite the fear would eventually kill her.

With that settled, she stepped back a couple of paces, Cassius tilting his head.

She smiled faintly, summoned a dagger from her space ring, and held it level at her stomach, tip pointing toward him.

”You wanted it, didn’t you?” She asked, grinning with both apprehension and something she could name now: expectation.

”Wanted what?”

”A hug.”

Cassius’s eyes widened.

”Come get it.” She looked at him with challenging, intense eyes. ”Come hug me, Cassius Desdemona.”

He looked at her, then slowly dropped his gaze to the dagger. He understood exactly what she was offering: that trying to hold her meant accepting the blade.

[...Oh my.] Ananke whispered, understanding instantly.

Cassius didn’t hesitate. He smiled as if mildly amused, took one long step toward her, and without flinching, walked the dagger straight into his own stomach.

He heard his flesh part, bones creak, organs cut. Blood began to seep.

But he had already pulled her into his arms.

He held her against him, eyes closed, breathing quietly through the pain, her scent filling his nose.

”You would be a fool,” he breathed, gasping lightly, eyes opening to find hers, ”to think a dagger would stop me from hugging you. Darling, do you know how long I have waited for this?”

A short, pained chuckle followed the words. And Isolde was crying. Openly, without shame, feeling a warmth she had never felt before bathing her whole body, as if water was moving through her, washing something out.

But her right hand was wet, soaked with the hot blood of the man giving her that feeling.

”I...” She tried to speak. Her voice broke. She forced herself anyway as she needed to say it.

”You have chosen me, Cassius.” She whispered, watching a trail of blood drip from his lips.

”This was my third and last attempt.” She smiled now. ”And I failed to kill you.”

”Kinda pathetic, darling. Should have gone for the neck or the heart.”

”And lose the only heart that loves me?” Isolde scoffed, still smiling. ”I would die of regret. And so now you know...”

She pressed her forehead gently against his.

”...I choose you, Cassius Desdemona.”

He bared a grin, feeling her forehead against his, her words echoing inside him, and suddenly the pain in his stomach stopped mattering. Whatever was filling his chest was so overwhelming that mundane pain simply retreated to the background.

”Now tell me your three demands.” Isolde said, unwilling to step out of the hug, reaching down to pull the dagger free and press a healing potion into his hands.

The wound began to close yet the blood remained.

”Three demands?” He echoed, then understanding crossed his face.

He reluctantly pulled back, breaking the hug, and reached into his space ring for the gift Morgan had given him.

’Dorian and Morgan, I love you both so much. And yes, to hell with the twins.’

Isolde’s eyes went wide at the sight of two silver rings, each with a streak of purple running through them. If one looked closely, Isolde’s name was on the man’s ring. Cassius’s name on the woman’s.

Cassius looked at her and smiled. ”Our marriage was arranged, I know. But let’s make it something we actually choose. So...”

He held out the rings.

”...I spend all three demands asking you to, well...marry me, I suppose?”

His face went slightly red. Suddenly, Cassius Desdemona was genuinely embarrassed.

Isolde looked at him, tears spilled again. She took three slow breaths to pull herself together enough to speak.

”Aren’t you supposed to kneel for this?” She said, laughing and crying at the same time, already extending her left hand to him, the man’s ring taken in her other.

”Have mercy, darling.” He laughed too, trembling in a way few could properly understand, as he slid the ring onto her finger.

”I might, if you bark like a dog.” She replied, quivering, eyes fixed on her ring as she slid the other onto Cassius’s finger.

Everything felt so surreal. Like something that could possibly be plucked out of a dream of a woman blessed by heavens.

”Is barking your kink?” Cassius arched an eyebrow. ”Me specifically barking?”

Isolde froze, her tear-streaked eyes locked onto him with instant fury.

”Don’t worry, I don’t ju—!”

”Shut up!”

”Just listen—!”

”I said SHUT UP!” She bellowed, face blazing red, and kicked him instinctively in the stomach.

Cassius’s eyes blew wide. He doubled over immediately, the previous wound splitting open. He groaned then coughed.

Isolde realized immediately what she had done. She ran to him, and not knowing what else to do, grabbed his head and pulled it into her chest, burying it there.

”I’m sorry!” She said, awkward, already regretting her impulse.

And Cassius...

”You can hit me again if this is how you apologize.”

Isolde went completely still. She hurled his head away from her chest and launched into a tirade of insults, cursing him as a pervert and every related thing she could think of.

Cassius only laughed, looking at the ring on his finger, then at the one on hers, taking the curses as a blessing.

Ananke watched the whole scene with a quiet smile. She was genuinely happy for her Blessed. And she understood all too well what Isolde was feeling, which made her guiltily glad that she was no longer the only one who had to endure Cassius’s insufferable behaviour.

[Welcome, then, Isolde Amaris.]

—End of Chapter 46—