CHAPTER 299: LOVE AND HATE LIES ON A THIN THREAD

Wordlessly, Isabelle pushed forward, her steps firm as she brushed past Lastor, who had flattened himself against the wall to make space in the narrow hallway. It was far too tight for two people to walk side by side. Once she disappeared around the corner, Lastor let out a soft sigh of relief.

No matter how many noblewomen he saw draped in silks and jewels, something about their elegance always made him uneasy, especially after his time among witches. They had adored dressing to the nines, and to him, that memory was less admiration and more lingering nightmare.

"You’re here, Lastor," Arabella greeted warmly as he entered, her smile bright.

"Your Highness," he replied, quickly striding toward the table. "I believe you were right. A witch is helping both Morpheus and Queen Morgana. If I had to guess, I’d say it’s all part of Morpheus’s grand plan to take full control of the kingdom."

Arabella’s expression sharpened. "Do you have a name?"

Lastor shook his head. "Not yet. But Renard informed me he’s conducting a full background check on everyone connected to the castle— servants, staff, even guests. Most witches can’t completely alter their appearance, and even those who can rarely do so flawlessly. It shouldn’t be impossible to narrow them down."

He stepped closer to the table and glanced at the parchment she’d been working on. His gaze lingered for a moment before he gave a small, approving nod.

"You really do study well, Princess. At this rate, you’ll master everything I can teach you before long. But as I’ve warned you," he added with a more serious tone, "never allow your emotions to take full control."

Arabella nodded, her voice calm but firm. "Because it could destroy me."

"Exactly," Lastor said, slipping seamlessly into his role as teacher. "Your power is tied to your emotions—one feeds the other. The stronger your emotions, the more volatile your magic becomes. If you let yourself go unchecked, it won’t be your enemies who suffer first. It will be you."

He paused for a moment, his expression tightening.

"Also... the curse placed on you to weaken your power is beginning to crack. That’s what worries me most. If something happens, another attack, another loss, something that causes your emotions to spiral..." He trailed off, meeting her eyes. "Your power will surge, and you’ll lose control completely."

"Don’t worry," Arabella smiled widely, "That won’t ever happen, Lastor."

"Oh! You are finally calling me by my name instead of teacher," Lastor beamed, "I know that it feels weird to call your teacher by the name but honestly I was always so uneasy being called teacher by you, after all how could a lowly servant like me dared to be called the Princess’s teacher? In a matter of three years I am certain that you will be the one to teach me."

Arabella chuckled faintly as she stared at the ceiling, "Another loss, another attack. Emotions spiral... fully out of control."

"Shall we continue the teaching, Your Highness?" Lastor asked and Arabella nodded. When the real Arabella had switched back, even Lastor was unaware of it, much less Arabella who had all her memories fully intact though a little blurry which she brushed off for lacking sleep.

These past few days... her memories would go blurry while studying or walking. She could remember what had happened but not too well, like looking through a foggy glass. But it only happened times to times when she lacks sleep thus Arabella decided that whenever her memories go blurry again that she needed sleep.

But these days the question of which witch had suddenly appeared and worked with Morpheus haunted her, making her restless in her sleep.

She sighed and tried to force herself to sleep as it was late while for the castle far away from them, the castle filled with magic, sorcerers, and creatures called skin walker had began to stir from their slumber.

A servant had walked barefoot from the southeast wing to the Throne room. He knocked on the door carefully and kept his gaze down the entire time, making sure he was looking only at the grandiose golden carpet and not over at the person who was sitting at the red throne chair.

When he saw the staircase, he stopped before he could reach towards it and knelt his right knee to the ground. He then reached out his plate upward, the thing he had brought ever since he walked to the throne room, filled with cheese and grapes.

"Your Majesty," said the young servant, "Your loyal underlings are worried that you haven’t eaten for a long time. Please, take a small bite and ease your hunger."

But the majesty in question was quiet, staring at the portrait in the canvas that he was holding tightly on his hand.

It was hard to tell what kind of expression Morpheus had on his face while he stared at the canvas for such a long time but one thing for sure was he didn’t looked happy. His knuckles holding on to the sides of the canvas’s golden frame was white, his fingers trembling as if he was holding something back as he stared at the face drawn in that portrait.

It showed that while he hated the person in the canvas, he needed to see it often to recall her face, like a child worried that one day he would come to forget the person he loves and their face.

Finally, Morpheus pulled down the canvas.

But that wasn’t because of the servant’s words that had touched his heart.

Rather because a presence had entered the throne room and it was of a blonde haired girl and green eyes that had stepped across the door, her white sheer gown brushing against the carpeted floor.

At first, Ariel didn’t like how everyone was required to walk on the floor barefooted as she thought it was far too dirty. But the palace of the sorcerers were different as there had never been a time when she could see dust lying around the floor, making it pristine to walk on.

When she reached the edge of the throne, Ariel then noted how Morpheus was looking at that canvas yet again- the canvas which had a woman face and how that woman slightly resemble her younger sister, Arabella.