CHAPTER 446: COLOR OF LIES-I

He was doomed— utterly doomed, thought Isaac.

From that day on, Morpheus had ordered him to remain by Arabella’s side at all times, serving as her attendant. It was supposed to be a simple duty— fetching water, cleaning, arranging meals —but being near her day after day felt less like work and more like something he was made to do, as if it had been ingrained to me how much of an honor it was for him to be able to stand here and serve her.

While he stayed beside her, Isaac noted a few things other than her preference in cold water and food.

In particular was how Arabella was unlike anyone he had ever met.

Where Isaac loved idleness, warmth, and the comfort of sunlight, she was a whirlwind of motion and curiosity. Each morning, the moment her eyes opened, she was already on her feet. She would wash quickly, braid her hair in haste, and immediately bury herself in one of the ancient books of witchcraft she had taken from Morpheus’s study. She would even read while eating breakfast, spoon in one hand and pages flipping with the other, utterly lost in her world of words and runes.

By noon, she was often in the castle’s magic chamber— chalk in hand, circle drawn wide across the marble floor, runes glowing faintly under her breath as she murmured incantations. Isaac, standing by the door or pretending to dust the shelves, would find himself staring despite his best efforts not to.

He told himself he wasn’t watching her— just... observing. Protecting, maybe. But curiosity was a treacherous thing, and Arabella had a way of pulling people into her orbit without even trying.

"Alchemy," she murmured suddenly, flipping through a thick, yellowed book. Her brows furrowed in fascination as she crouched beside the chalk circle.

"Yes, milady?" Isaac straightened at once, thinking she had spoken to him.

"It says here," Arabella continued, not noticing his confusion, "that there’s a method to create a living creature."

Isaac froze. "That... couldn’t be."

Arabella lifted her gaze toward him, eyes bright with interest. "Why not?"

He hesitated. "Because... isn’t it known that magic can’t create life? Especially a creature—a human, even. It’s against the law of fate."

"The law of fate," Arabella repeated softly, as though tasting the phrase. "Who told you this is a well-known rule?"

Isaac rubbed the back of his neck. "No one, exactly. It’s just— everyone knows. When sorcerers are first taught magic, they’re warned not to meddle with fate. To never try to make life from nothing. And as for demons..." He trailed off, watching her closely. "We’re forbidden to take their power directly. That’s why we form contracts— to keep balance, to avoid corruption."

Arabella’s lips curved into a faint smile as she studied him, her eyes glimmering with an amused kind of warmth. "You know a lot, Isaac."

Their eyes met briefly— too long, perhaps, and his heart stuttered against his ribs.

"But," she continued, tilting her head, "I heard you can’t use magic at all. Isn’t that right?"

Her tone wasn’t cruel, merely curious, but Isaac felt the words sting nonetheless. Usually everyone asked that question to mock him for having no motivation to study despite having the talent for it. Though he could tell Arabella didn’t mean her words to sound the way he felt, it did stung him.

He laughed faintly, rubbing his palm against his sleeve.

"Maybe that’s why I remember the rules so well," he said, voice light but edged with something tired. "I couldn’t break them even if I wanted to."

Arabella’s smile softened, "Have you never been curious of magic? Even now?"

Isaac looked at the books she held and recalled how the past three days of serving her had stirred something strange within him— curiosity, perhaps, a bit more than he would have liked to admit.

"I do not like magic," he said finally, his fingers curling into his sleeve before he ruffled his hair, rubbing the back of his neck as though uneasy under her gaze. "The reason why both of my eyes are different in color, you never asked, milady."

Blinking, Arabella lifted her chin slightly, a faint curve playing on the corner of her lips. "Is it necessary to ask? I just thought they were beautiful."

Isaac smiled shyly, his heart warming at her words, though he quickly tried to hide it. "My father was a human."

"A human?"

"He wandered here," said Isaac, pointing toward the gate of the castle through the window. "A lost man, son of a merchant. A wealthy merchant. My mother told me he wasn’t truly lost, just separated after an accident. He said the ground opened beneath him, perhaps a landslide swallowed him whole."

"You mean... your father entered the castle after it was cursed to close?"

Arabella’s brows furrowed slightly as she watched him nod. He must have been a rare case, a soul born of an outsider.

"My mother saved him when he was near starvation. They fell in love so quickly it was impossible to stop. Even when Lord Morpheus opposed the union because of his humanity, they stayed together regardless. My father swore he would live here forever."

But forever rarely meant forever. Arabella thought it, but she didn’t say it aloud, she didn’t need to, for she saw it reflected in Isaac’s bitter smile.

"Of course," he said with a low laugh that carried no humor. "How can you trust an empty promise from a man with a silver tongue? He was a merchant, words were his trade. Must’ve fooled my mother far too easily."

He paused, then exhaled softly, eyes distant. "The first time he left, he came back. He brought gifts. The second time, he said his father was ill. My mother believed him. She let him go again." His voice faltered for a moment, then turned sharp. "He never came back."

"So you’re a halfling," Arabella whispered and Isaac noted.

"Fortunately my sister who comes from my current new father is different from me but people who are different tend to be an eyesore," he leaned and cracked his back. "Though the reason why I didn’t want to learn magic is different. I just... heard my mother questioning whether the real reason why father had left us because of magic. Maybe because it was what set them different. That maybe without magic, he would have stayed. I simply resented it after that."

"Resent," Arabella muttered the words, "I do have something I resent."

"You do?" Isaac questioned but Arabella shook her head.

"I forgot what it was but I seem to have hated it a lot," she then closed the book on her hand and placed it to the table, "You see I want to create a creature. I wonder if it’s possible to move a soul into a body, not to create a life but to simply create a new body."

"But why?" Isaac asked, "To prevent death?"

Arabella didn’t answer but she clutched to the book tighter, her heart knowing that she need to save someone.