CHAPTER 454: A FOOL’S CARD

Marking the path Isaac had pointed out in her smaller book, Arabella made sure to inscribe every line, curve, and turning point no matter how faint or insignificant it seemed. The parchment beneath her hand was rough and brittle with age, smelling faintly of dust and iron. She could feel the pulse of old magic lingering beneath the ink, like veins of something alive, something that had been buried but never forgotten.

She wasn’t certain what secrets—or dangers—might be waiting in those invisible halls. But one thing she knew with a cold certainty in which she could not afford to make a mistake. She could not afford to endanger Isaac’s life instead of her own and knowing Morpheus, it wouldn’t be a stretch for him to hurt Isaac just to make her become more obedient to all his demands.

"I didn’t want to bring this up before, milady," Isaac said in a whisper as he traced his finger to the path they would need to take in the blueprint, the dim candlelight casting trembling shadows on his young face. His tone wavered between fear and hesitation. "But there have been whispers... about a new plan Lord Morpheus has been crafting. Something involving Hell, something about killing the Vampire King."

"The Vampire King again," Arabella murmured, her voice distant as she drew the path in a smaller paper carefully. The name itself was enough to stir unease deep within her chest. A strange familiarity pressed on her ribs, as though the mere thought of him reached toward something buried inside her memory.

But apart from that was this sense of anger toward the vampire king, an uncontrollable one that made her feel suffocated.

"But Isaac," she began again, her tone shifting as she carefully gave a thought, "I’ve been meaning to ask you something. Your father wandered into this castle and was lost to it, wasn’t he? And you’ve never stepped outside these walls yourself. Does that mean only a chosen few are allowed entry?"

"Yes," Isaac replied quickly, looking a little confused that she would ask something so basic. "Did Lord Morpheus not tell you? Entry to this castle requires a particular spell, a permission only he can grant."

Arabella’s eyes darkened. "So unless someone receives that permission, they can’t come in."

"Exactly. It’s to keep us safe," he explained, but his voice lacked conviction. He must have felt it too— that gnawing uncertainty curling in the air between them. Then, as though the thought had suddenly clawed its way into his mind, he froze. "But then..." He hesitated, his lips trembling. "How could the Vampire King enter?"

The silence that followed stretched unbearably long. The candle flame flickered, guttering low as if the very air had grown heavier with their realization.

"Morpheus said the Vampire King possessed a peculiar kind of power," Arabella murmured, her voice quiet, repeating the words Morpheus had told her. "That it allowed him to breach the castle’s wards and its magic. But it’s odd, isn’t it? They attacked you, Isaac, but not me. And if no one can enter without his permission..."

"You think—" Isaac’s words broke off into a shallow breath. "You think Lord Morpheus let him in."

No, even worse. Arabella didn’t respond because she thought that perhaps there was even worse possibility, such as Morpheus being the one behind all the hurt that Isaac suffered. That there was no vampire King to begin with, just a hungry man desperate to take control of her.

Isaac shuddered. The very thought made his stomach twist. He remembered the day Morpheus had brought Arabella into the castle, how he had looked that night under a stormy weather that had engulfed the sky in that pitch darkness hue.

He had looked like a man who had seized a treasure no one else was worthy of. A man who would rather burn the world than lose his prize.

Would such a man ever hesitate to hurt her if it meant keeping her bound to him?

Isaac wanted to believe he would. He wanted to believe Morpheus was still capable of love. But deep down, he knew better.

Since when had Lord Morpheus feared hurting what he owned?

He didn’t harm to destroy, he harmed to control.

And perhaps, Isaac realized grimly, he had never needed to lay a hand on Arabella at all. He could shatter her through fear alone.

Arabella’s gaze drifted back to the parchment. The intricate lines seemed to shimmer faintly under the candlelight. The invisible rooms, the twisting corridors, the locked passages, everything about the castle suddenly felt sinister. The air itself seemed to hum with secrets.

"We have to find that passage tonight," she said finally, her voice low and resolute. "If there’s even a chance that he is hiding forbidden magic in those rooms... I need to see it with my own eyes."

Isaac hesitated, glancing at the darkened window where the moonlight barely spilled through. "Tonight? Now? We don’t have proper plan to do so-"

"Tonight. Now," she repeated firmly. "If we wait until morning, he’ll know. Someone always reports to him before dawn."

He wanted to argue, but the conviction in her tone silenced him. Gathering their notes, the two quietly packed their things, dimming the lantern until its flame became a mere ghost.

The castle was deathly still when they stepped into the corridor. The sound of their footsteps echoed softly against the marbled floor, the kind of echo that seemed to follow them longer than it should have.

Though usually there would be many people guarding this hallway, especially after what had happened to Isaac, Arabella had managed to trick everyone with magic, causing for them to sleep. As they walk, they saw those people who had fallen asleep due to her magic, leaning their back on the wall while their body was on the ground, asleep so deeply that some even snored.

Though she knew that her magic was so potent that none of them could even recall since when they have fallen into slumber, with every few steps, Arabella glanced over her shoulder. The shadows danced against the far end of the hallway, and though nothing moved, she could feel it, felt something watching.

She brushed it off as her paranoia as she never liked to do something against anyone’s wishes and now she felt like a thief in training.

When appearing to the throne room, Arabella followed Isaac who had first peek from the keyhole to see whether there was light inside the room which could signal if a soul was staying inside. After making sure there was no one, Isaac opened the door knob and they both jump inside the room.

In hurry, the two who had entered the room ran straight toward the right side of the wall beside the throne. There was a flag that decorated the wall, covering its entirety. But she managed to flip them and see the odd button that was hidden by the wall.

"This must be it," she said and Isaac nodded in agreement, checking the book once more. She pushed the button without a hesitation and heard the sound of gears shifting from behind the wall, finally opening the wall and stretching them wide. What they were greeted by next was none other than staircase, spiraling staircase that blew wind back to them.

Without thinking twice, the two walked inside, determined to end the source of this questionable mystery they have had.

The deeper they descended, the darker the air grew. The torches on the walls flickered to life one by one, but not at their touch, no, it was as though the castle itself knew

they were coming.

"Milady..." Isaac’s whisper was barely audible. "Do you hear that?"

Arabella froze. Somewhere in the distance, behind the winding corridor they had just turned from, came a faint sound, a scuff of shoes against the marble floor. Then another. Slow. Careful. Following.

Her pulse quickened.

She didn’t speak; she only placed a finger over her lips to warn Isaac and then nodded toward the next staircase. Together, they slipped behind the tall pillar of the stairvcase, their backs pressed to the cold stone as the sound grew nearer.

A shadow stretched across the far end of the hall. Long and unsteady. From the way it flickered, it almost felt as if it wasn’t human.

And then... nothing.

Only the distant hum of magic thrumming through the unknown staircase.

Arabella and Isaac exchanged a glance.

"Keep moving," she mouthed. "Quietly."

The air turned colder, and the further they went, the more it felt like descending into something alive, a creature that had swallowed them whole. By the time they reached the base of the stair, the torchlight had vanished completely. Only their small lantern glowed now, trembling faintly in Isaac’s shaking hands.

"There," Arabella whispered, pointing ahead. A solid stone wall—but the pattern on its surface was wrong, the markings mismatched. She reached out, pressing her palm against it and the wall shuddered as if responding to her touch.

And then, with a soft sigh like an exhale, a crack opened down the center, revealing a sliver of darkness beyond.

She looked back at Isaac, her voice barely a breath. "Stay close. And if anyone comes after us..."

He nodded firmly, though his hands trembled. "I’ll protect you, milady."

Arabella smiled faintly at that—sadly, knowingly. "Let’s hope you won’t have to."

They slipped into the darkness.

Behind them, in the hall they had just left, the shadow that had been watching them finally moved again.

This time, it smiled.