CHAPTER 372: TRICKLE OF HOPE-II

"Please, my child," begged the woman, her voice trembling as Arabella quickly reached out her hand. She tore her gaze away from Cassius and focused on her spell, lips moving in a hushed chant of healing. The soft glow of magic began to bloom, but before it could spread further, a gentle weight pressed over her hands.

Ariel’s fingers rested lightly against her palms, stilling her incantation. Arabella turned, startled, and found her sister smiling faintly.

"Sister," Ariel said softly, "Noah’s wounds have already closed. This is as far as our magic can reach. His body will endure, but his consciousness..." She shook her head, her voice fading to a whisper. "That will only return when he chooses to open his eyes again."

Arabella lowered her hands, her heart tightening. "I see..." Her gaze drifted to Alice, and worry clouded her face. She had never imagined the famed great witch, once celebrated for her strength and sacrifice, reduced to such state. Alice had endured hell itself to shield the innocent, yet now she writhed in suffering, undone by the shadows of her own heart.

And yet, in that painful truth, Arabella found a strange, quiet comfort. Even Circe, the mighty, untouchable figure of legend, had her own scars, her own vengeance she could not let go. Perhaps it was a reminder that no one was made of pure light. To desire retribution, to falter beneath the weight of the past, did not make one unworthy. It simply made them human.

For the first time, Arabella allowed herself to believe, that it was alright to carry wounds that never fully healed.

"So now," Ariel cut through her daze, her voice warm yet firm. "You should go to His Majesty’s side." She nudged Arabella with her elbow, a playful glimmer softening her tone. "As for healing, I can take care of the rest. Their wounds aren’t as bad as Noah’s, so I should be able to manage alone."

"But it will be far too exhausting for you," Arabella protested at once, concern knitting her brows.

Her sister, however, would not yield. With a decisive push against Arabella’s back, Ariel shook her head. "It’s more exhausting for you. Besides—" she flashed a wide grin, eyes bright with resolve, "—if I really can’t go any further, I’ll call your name. That much, I promise."

Arabella’s heart softened. She looked at her sister, smiling, determined, and finally at her side after so many years apart. The sight was enough to pierce through all weariness.

"Thank you, sister," Arabella whispered sincerely. She braced her hands to rise but, instead of moving, she suddenly pulled Ariel into her arms. Her embrace was tight, almost desperate, as though afraid to lose her again.

Her voice trembled against Ariel’s shoulder. "I should have said this first... but I’m truly, truly happy to see you again. I love you, sister. I’m glad—" her grip tightened, "—I’m really glad we are finally together once more."

Ariel’s eyes seemed to turn glossy as she felt her sister’s words to her heart. Quickly, she pulled her sister and return the tight embrace, thanking the world that had allowed her to meet each other again despite all the hardship they have gone through.

As Arabella stood up and left her sister’s side, Ariel stared at her with a smile, wondering when was the little girl who would always run beside her leg to become so mature now. It was a sight that brought Ariel to tears but not out of sadness, rather from sheer proud. Wiping away the traces of tears, Ariel then turned around toward the people who had begged for the healing magic.

"As expected, it must have been nothing more than a foolish rumor," Paolo exhaled with a bitter sigh, the sound tight and strained, reaching Arabella’s ears as she approached. His expression carried the weariness of a man who had spent too long chasing shadows.

"But it may not be a complete

rumor," Cassius countered lazily, leaning back in his chair. His gaze dropped to his palms, as if studying them under the light, though Arabella could see the faint flicker of power coiling beneath his skin.

His strength was returning, slowly but steadily. Three hours had not been enough to restore what he had unleashed, yet the measured recovery was encouraging. Already, he judged himself capable of facing several sorcerers without much concern, an impressive rate by any standard.

Paolo gave a humorless chuckle, shaking his head. "And still, you seem utterly unbothered." His tone carried both admiration and exasperation, as if he couldn’t decide whether to envy or condemn such composure. "I should have known nothing could ever unsettle you, Your Majesty. But this... this will breed distrust. Whispers spread like rot in the walls, and if left unchecked, they weaken even the strongest foundation. I say the matter must be uprooted before it festers into something worse."

"What is it about?" Arabella asked softly from the side. At once, Cassius slipped an arm around her waist, his head resting against her chest with a sigh that carried the weight of relief, as though she were the fragile thread holding his sanity together.

Paolo, well aware that one never dismissed the question of the future Queen, quickly answered, "There are whispers, my lady, that a man has been seen, one bearing an uncanny resemblance to His Majesty."

"To Cassius?" Arabella’s brows furrowed. "A skin walker, perhaps?"

"That, we cannot say," Paolo admitted, lowering his voice. "But the rumors claim that this man, this mirror of His Majesty, has been wandering across the kingdom, offering... fortune-tellings."

"A Cassius who preaches about the future," Arabella murmured, almost scoffing. The thought alone was unfitting, almost grotesque in its irony.

"The whispers grow darker," Paolo continued. "Some wonder if the man is truly His Majesty, or perhaps... a blood relative."

Cassius finally lifted his head, his expression unreadable, though his voice held no trace of warmth. "My mother died birthing Marissa. No child walked from her womb but the two of us. Yet my father... well, that is another matter. He may have scattered bastards across the land. Still, I doubt any would bear my likeness. I am the very image of my mother, down to the last shadow."

"It’s a foolish idea," Cassius then shrugged, "Better not entertained."

"But what is the fortune telling that he spread?" Arabella asked, interested and Paolo seemed delighted that finally someone was interested.

"Well that’s the troubling part," drawled Paolo as he looked toward Cassius.