Last Born Of The Desdemona

Chapter 90: Chapter 90: Queen’s skirt!

Chapter 90 – Queen’s skirt!

Cassius was barely given the time to wash his face, brush his teeth and change out of his purple pyjamas into black trousers and a white shirt before he was dragged away by his grandmother.

She seemed oddly excited, as if genuinely happy to spend time with him. It was quite surprising coming from Morenna Hood, but it didn’t feel strange to him.

Even in the game, Morenna was well known for doting heavily on her grandchildren.

In fact, when the Desdemona were slaughtered — unable to do anything against the combined suppression of the Hood, the Stormblessed, and the Church of Death, who by that point had begun nurturing an unsettling motivation that echoed the one of the Holy Empire of Nuur — Morenna had secluded herself in some unknown realm, never to be seen again.

Rumours said she had lost her mind, wandering through the earth like a lost soul trying to reach the afterlife with no success.

Knowing all of that, her affection toward him didn’t catch Cassius off guard.

’Yet with all her affection for me, she has quite the relationship with Esmeray, her own daughter.’ He couldn’t help but shake his head wryly, finding himself suddenly inside the kitchen.

The moment they arrived, all the cooks bowed their heads and left the place, leaving them alone with all the food already prepared.

Morenna, with her all-black eyes, smiled gently, her wrinkles clearly showing at the corners of her lips and eyes. ”You know, sweetheart, I dislike the choking, uncomfortable way nobles eat.” She said, looking at him. ”So today, for once, let’s not worry about any of that. Eat whatever you want, however you want it.”

As she spoke, she swept her arms around the kitchen with enthusiasm.

Cassius chuckled a bit awkwardly. ”Well, thank you, grandma.” He said gratefully. ”But I am not much of a big eater. In the morning, simple scrambled eggs, toast with strawberry jam and a cup of water are more than enough.”

”Not coffee, sweetheart?”

”I don’t like coffee.”

”Tea, sweetheart?”

”Not something I drink in the morning.”

”Well, if that’s what you want.” Morenna nodded, then took a red apron and tied it around her waist. ”Do you want your eggs seasoned in any particular way?”

The sight made Cassius’s heart ripple in shock. ”What... what are you doing?” He stammered, watching her take three eggs from the kitchen cabinet.

”What else?” Morenna retorted, her voice dropping to a gentle whisper. ”I am making you breakfast, of course.”

”I can see that. But why?” He pressed. ”You don’t need to. The cooks can—!”

”I want to, sweetheart.” Morenna cut in, turning her head to look at him over her shoulder. Cassius was struck by how strongly she resembled his mother. It was glaring in every feature. ”You came all the way here to know us better and spend time with us. Yesterday I was so busy I couldn’t even come meet you when you arrived.” She made a regretful gesture. ”This is me making it up to you, okay? Just sit and enjoy. Or perhaps you don’t trust my skills as a cook, sweetheart?”

She added the last with a joking tone, winking at him. ”I taught your mother how to cook, by the way. So trust me.”

Cassius didn’t answer. He just stared at her, surprised and confused, taking in the sight of the Queen of the Badur Kingdom making him breakfast.

At least, that was how anyone else would see such a scene. Even he had seen it that way, seconds ago. But now he could see it clearly.

At that instant, it was simply the sight of a grandmother cooking for her grandson who had come to visit her.

That realisation made him forget — or at least bury — the bad dream about Katherine from earlier that morning.

He smiled, picked up an apron beside him, tied it around his waist, and walked toward Morenna.

”Not that I don’t trust you.” He said in a relaxed tone, stepping beside his grandmother, who was a bit taller than him. ”But let me help. We can make each other breakfast at the same time. What do you want to eat?”

Morenna froze for a moment at his words. She shifted her head and saw the beautiful face of Cassius, smiling leisurely at her.

There was no judgment in his eyes, the kind she saw in Morgan or her own daughter Esmeray.

No reluctance to be close to her, like Dorian, who found the Hood family bothersome.

No indifference, like the twins, who simply couldn’t force themselves to care for anyone outside the immediate Desdemona family.

And none of the forced love and affection of her son Raven, who tried hard every day yet always seemed lost in his own thoughts about a love he couldn’t have.

Amid all of them, Cassius Desdemona looked at her the way a grandson looks at his grandmother.

With gentleness. With love. With respect. With affection.

It was a strange feeling. A feeling that made her instinctively whisper, as if those were the only words possible, her tone jovial and sweet:

”Well, sweetheart,” she said, smile widening, ”aren’t you an angel?”

At those words, Cassius’s face immediately crumpled. ”Queen’s skirt! No please, not you too, grandma. I beg you!” He looked at her like he wanted to cry. ”I am not an angel! Just stay at sweetheart! No need to go further!”

What was wrong with these people calling him an angel?!

At his unexpectedly flustered reaction, Morenna barked a loud laugh. ”But what if you are an angel? If the sky is blue we say it’s blue, don’t we?”

”I am not!”

”But you are, my angel.”

”I am n—!”

”You are.”

And so, while bickering back and forth, Morenna and Cassius — a grandmother and her grandson — cooked their breakfasts with smiles plastered on their faces.

...

Since yesterday, after Cassius had made it his personal mission to not shut his mouth, Anesthesia had been in a terrible, stinking mood.

No, even that would be a severe understatement. If she could have killed anyone or anything at that instant without anyone being the wiser, she would have indulged herself in her wrathful anger without hesitation.

But Anesthesia knew the importance of self-control. Especially for someone like her, scrutinised and watched by so many in the kingdom.

’That useless Head Maid.’ She cursed inwardly, thinking of the doll-like young girl, walking toward Raven’s room in her beautiful dress. ’She dared treat me that way? Who does she think she is?’

It was unfortunate that she had neither the strength nor the courage to speak or act against her. But Anesthesia knew it wouldn’t stay like this forever.

’I need to use my Token of Death.’ She clenched her fist. ’Only the Deathless Crusaders and the Church of Death can stand against the Hood Royal Family. But the Church is impossible, the past King’s mother has already spread her roots there. If I go there, I will fall under her control. Which means only the Deathless Crusaders is a viable option.’

Good thing she had their token, not only to take the test but to become the disciple of one of the Seven Knights.

But first...

’I need to make things right with Raven. I need his support. He can give me things Emrys can’t regarding the matter of the Deathless Crusaders.’ Her purple eyes hardened. ’Only with his backing can I feel confident enough to engage with them.’

Yesterday she had managed to calm the situation with Raven after swallowing her own anger. But it was obvious he was still reluctant toward her.

That was unacceptable. She needed to fix it.

In those calculating thoughts, Anesthesia strode with confidence toward his room, no one stopping her — all who saw her knew of her special relationship with the Prince.

Soon enough, she arrived at Raven’s private quarters. And there, she halted.

She narrowed her purple eyes. Sarah was coming out of Raven’s room, her clothes all crumpled, a dark look hanging over her face.

And just as Anesthesia noticed her, Sarah noticed her back.

For a moment, Anesthesia was caught off guard, for she saw a flash of hatred in Sarah’s eyes. But it was too fleeting, too impossible, for her to even trust her own eyes.

She discarded it.

A brief thought crossed her mind about speaking to Sarah, bringing her to their side alongside Emrys. But Anesthesia pushed it away. It was not urgent. Raven was the priority.

So with a beautiful smile that seemed to brighten the world around her, Anesthesia parted her pink lips.

”Hello, Sarah.” She said, her voice sweet, walking toward her in an amiable manner. ”Is the Prince awake?”

Sarah stared at Anesthesia in silence, thoughts clearly spiralling behind her eye...thoughts Anesthesia couldn’t read.

However, the Chosen Heiress was not in a patient mood that morning. Just as she was about to frown and repeat herself with a harsher tone, the maid spoke, her voice strangely hoarse.

”If you don’t love him,” she said, seemingly not understanding what had come over her to speak against Anesthesia, ”why... why are you acting like you do?”

The question caught Anesthesia off guard. And beyond the surprise, a slow anger and contempt began to shift her gaze on Sarah.

”I’m afraid I don’t understand what you mean.” Anesthesia replied, her beautiful scent soaking the air around her.

”You are hurting him.” Sarah continued, taking a step forward, closer to Anesthesia. ”You are hurting him with your endless games. The Prince is not like this. The Prince... can be better than—!”

”Mind your business, maid.” Anesthesia interrupted, her voice dropping far colder. Sarah’s body shook. ”Don’t pry into my affairs, in the same way I am not asking what a maid is doing coming out of her master’s room early in the morning with crumpled clothes and barely able to walk properly. Do you understand me?”

Her eyes were frost as they settled on Sarah, who held her gaze, albeit with trembling eyes.

”You are destroying him! You are—!”

”Did I not make myself clear?” Anesthesia hissed like a snake about to strike. ”One more word about my affairs and you will be next.” She growled, then smiled humourlessly. ”And you know well no one will care about the disappearance of a maid.”

She leaned her face forward and whispered into Sarah’s ear. ”After all, what are you but a slutty maid warming her master’s bed whenever he pleases?”

The words were like a sword thrust into Sarah’s heart. She nearly dropped to her knees, her head spinning, the pain choking her.

Anesthesia looked at her with disdain. ”You see, I wanted to help you. Help you with the matter of the Prince. But you are not worthy. You deserve to be nothing but a slut for him while he loves only me. Now move out of my way.” She ordered, and without waiting, bumped into her mercilessly, sending the maid sprawling to the ground.

Without a second glance, the Chosen Heiress continued on her way and stood before Raven’s door.

She exhaled. Every trace of disdain and contempt and disgust melted away like snow under a searing sun, leaving nothing behind but the smile that carried within it the likeness of summer sunlight.

Then, with an enthusiastic, loving voice...

”My Prince~” she slurred, knocking rhythmically on the door. ”Can I come in? I... I couldn’t sleep because of what happened yesterday. I need to talk with you.”

And all while Sarah watched from the floor, heart pounding, her legs shaking from the night before and from the pain clawing through her chest.

She gathered herself, bit her lip, staggered back to her feet and walked away.

Behind her, she heard Raven’s door creak open, and Anesthesia slipping inside with a squeal of happiness.

Sarah’s heart sank.

—End of Chapter 90—