CHAPTER 435: QUARREL OF TRUST-I

Feeling something stir, Arabella shot to her feet and rushed to the glass coffin. Her breath caught as her eyes darted to Cassius’s chest— still rising, still falling— and then to his fingers, motionless as stone.

"Cassius," she whispered, certain his consciousness had returned. She didn’t merely believe it —she felt it, as if the truth pulsed through her own veins.

A moment later, his red eyes opened, slow and heavy with sleep. For the briefest heartbeat, his gaze seemed lost, dazed. But then, instinctively, unfailingly, it found her. His hand rose, capturing hers with ease, and his lips curved into that familiar smile that came to him as though it were second nature.

"Why do you look so sad?" he asked softly, as though her sorrow was the only thing in the world that mattered.

Arabella’s throat tightened. The emotions she had been choking down surged at once, threatening to drown her. She lowered her head against his chest, her eyes shutting tight, listening to the steady thrum beneath his ribs. He stroked her hair with gentle fingers, as if to soothe away the fear that clung to her.

He knew. He knew she must have been terrified— watching him lie between life and death far longer than he had promised. It was supposed to be simple: a plunge into that twilight state, just long enough to confront the demon inside him. But the minutes had stretched into hours, and what had he given her in return? Only fear.

Still, even now, he would not burden her with the truth— that the demon had offered him nothing of worth. That his gamble had yielded more questions than answers.

"Liar."

The single word slipped from her lips as she pulled away, her voice trembling with hurt.

Cassius blinked, startled, his smile faltering.

"You lied to me," Arabella said, brows furrowed, her eyes burning with the weight of her injustice.

Cassius immediately pushed himself up, vaulting from the coffin with unnatural grace. His eyes widened, his hand reaching toward her cheek, only for her to turn away, rejecting his touch.

"What are you saying?" His voice cracked against the silence, sharp with desperation.

Arabella’s frown deepened. "Haven’t I told you not to hide anything from me?"

Cassius froze, her words striking him like a blade. For a heartbeat, he could only stare at her, stunned, the weight of realization dragging down his chest. There was only one secret— one he had buried so deeply he had hoped she would never stumble upon it. One that, even now, burned with regret at the bottom of his heart.

"Who told you?" His voice came out rougher than intended, his eyes flashing a deeper crimson as fury threatened to surface. He wanted a name. He wanted the fool who had dared to tell her that her life now dangled by a single, fragile thread.

Arabella didn’t flinch. "If they hadn’t told me," she asked, her voice steady but soft, "would you have chosen to never tell me at all?"

Cassius’s gaze faltered. He looked away, his jaw tightening, a sigh spilling from his lips. Of course not. He would have told her— eventually. But not yet. Not until he had clawed his way to a solution, not until he could look her in the eyes and promise her safety instead of doom.

But her expression already said she understood. She could read the answer in his face as easily as if he had spoken it aloud. And she didn’t know if she was disappointed or simply... tired. Tired of knowing that even his lies were built to protect her.

"You should have told me," she said quietly, though her words carried the weight of a warning. "If I’m kept in the dark, if I don’t know that I have only one life left— if I die without realizing that my death could destroy this entire kingdom— what then? What if I use my life as a shield, foolishly, thinking it doesn’t matter?"

"I won’t let that happen."

Her voice cracked, sharper now. "You won’t know if it will happen or not!" Arabella’s fingers tangled in her hair, ruffling the red strands as if trying to tear the panic out of herself. She hadn’t wanted this to be a fight. She hadn’t wanted another battlefield between them. But his composure— his maddening confidence that the lie had been for her sake— was the very thing unraveling her.

"I didn’t hide it to keep you blind," Cassius confessed, his voice low. He stirred from the coffin, slipping to the ground with the grace of a black cat. He reached out instinctively, only to falter when her glare froze him in place. His hand lowered, uncertain. "I was worried... of what it would do to you if I spoke the truth."

"You didn’t have to." Her teeth clenched, her voice raw. Though his words were soft, almost pleading, his face betrayed the conflict twisting him— worry and desperation, fear of her anger, of her disappointment.

"You shouldn’t have worried about how I would feel when the truth was mine to bear," she whispered, a crack in her steadiness.

"How can I—"

"Just stay with me!" Arabella’s voice cut him, her green eyes blazing. "The truth will always find me. Slowing it down, hiding it— it only makes it worse, for me, for us, for everything. But there’s one thing you could have done. Not lie. Not silence me with false comfort. You could have stayed. Stay with me when the truth shatters me, when my mind is in pieces, when I need someone to stand in the wreck with me. Don’t lie and expect me to believe it doesn’t break me."

Cassius’s composure faltered, the mask slipping as he caught the tear sliding down her cheek. "I didn’t want to hurt you."

"But it still does," she whispered. "You lied because you didn’t believe I was strong enough to bear it— and that is what hurts most of all."

She had waited so long for him to awaken, but now her heart was a storm, spilling over into words she almost wished she hadn’t spoken. Turning sharply, Arabella seized the door knob. She stepped out, leaving him standing in the silence, the air still heavy with the confession neither of them truly knew how to heal.