CHAPTER 472: FALLING OVER MISTAKES

Far away from the castle, in a land veiled beneath endless leafless pines and silence, Morpheus was seething.

Around him, the mountain wind howled as if in mockery, and the ground beneath his boots cracked where his magic leaked uncontrolled, trembling from his rage yet even that trembles appear like a mockery to Morpheus who had snapped in anger.

Blue veins crawled along his neck, pulsing with rage, while another vein bulged at his temple. His fingers curled into the bark of the tree beside him, and in a second, the strength of his fury splintering its trunk, yet the tree only quivered, as if laughing at his failure.

It should have been easy. The flower that bloomed only upon the purest snow, the flower that was well known for only surviving when its at the peak of the snowy mountain, was just there for him to take.

The snowy mountain was difficult for human to travel, thus there should be enough flower for him to take home, not a single hurdle seem to lie before him. Especially as for centuries, the peak of this mountain had never known warmth; even in summer, the highest top of the mountain remained cloaked in frost. And yet, when he arrived, there was no snow. The once white ridges now lay barren, the earth exposed, strip away from its blanket of white.

Even his men trembled as they saw his anger. Especially when his roar shattered the stillness of the mountain, echoiing, "This— HOW COULD THIS BE, ARABELLLAA!"

His voice echoed off the rocks and down the mountainside, carried by the wind. He gritted his teeth so hard the sound cracked through his skull, so much so that if he was a human, he might have lost a few tooth there. The magic surging in his veins due to anger seek to be released, but there was nothing left to strike— no enemy, no snow, only his humiliation.

And far away from it all, Cassius smiled.

He wondered idly if Morpheus would ever realize the truth that it hadn’t been Arabella who caused the snow to vanish, but him. Likely not. Oh, how delightful that ignorance was. The satisfaction of watching the great and prideful Morpheus rage, stripped of composure and dignity, was a pleasure that Cassius savored like the first sip of fine wine.

Cassius did not often play with his prey for long; he preferred a swift method, not prolonged torment, after all he doesn’t like the idea of entertaining an already failed creature. But watching the cracks spread in Morpheus’s calm was too exquisite for him not to enjoy.

When he closed his crimson eyes, the view of the snowy mountain disappeared. By the time he opened his gaze again, the reflection staring back was that of a slender maid. She appeared delicate, brown-haired, a rather plain face that wouldn’t have stood out anywhere, perfect for the role she played. Not even a single air quivered around her, making her ability of illusion too perfect to be noticed.

He found himself standing before Isaac, who gawked at him like a startled deer. The young man’s green eyes widened, his lips parting as if torn between demanding an explanation or keeping polite silence in front of someone who might be an ally.

Arabella, from where she stood, observed the two with mild amusement. On one side, a visibly nervous Isaac fidgeting with his fingers clenched into a fist, and on the other, a brown haired "maid" with twin braids and eyes far too sharp, far too mocking, for anyone in domestic service. Instead of a maid, it was the eyes of someone who had been "served" her entire life.

Cassius’s red eyes gleamed with pride and a hint of mischief as he looked back with Isaac, eyeing the latter without a single concern.

Though smaller and more fragile in form, Cassius exuded the kind of confidence that spoke of how he could meet death with its eyes without trembling. His every movement seemed proud, too daring for someone to underestimate him. When Isaac failed to speak, Cassius looked down at his nails, brushing off invisible dirt, and blew lightly on them with a sigh that could have withered the air itself.

"H– She is the same person who gave me those beads," Arabella said finally, chucking as she pointed out at the disguised Cassius.

Isaac blinked once. Then again, he almost did a full 180 around Cassius but knew if he does he would meet some claws and decided not to. Then his jaw slackened. "...You’re a vampire?" he asked hesitantly.

Cassius tilted his head. "Can’t you see how red these eyes are?" he replied dryly, wondering if either Isaac was a little fool or he just cannot see despite having two working pair of eyes.

Isaac pouted, looking wounded by the tone, then turned pleadingly toward Arabella, his eyes wide, silently begging her to scold Cassius for his sharp tongue.

"But someone is going to notice that you are not one of the people living here," Isaac stammered, his voice rising as he grew nervous. "Especially with your re– red eyes—"

Cassius’s gaze snapped to him, the air tightening. Isaac hiccuped, stepping back as though the maid might suddenly leap and bite him.

"A Genius aren’t you?" Cassius said coolly, "of course I wouldn’t wander around showing my true eye color. But changing them with magic is taxing." He rolled his eyes, then turned to Arabella, clearly expecting her to intervene before he decided to make Isaac’s life more miserable.

Now both men, or rather, one man and another man disguised as a woman, looked at her. One with a face full of judgment and exhaustion, the other with an expression of helplessness, as though begging her to side with him in this bizarre argument.

Arabella only sighed.

"You said it’s tiring to change your eye color," Isaac persisted meekly, "but you already changed your entire appearance—"

"My eyes require more magic to conceal," Cassius cut in sharply. "They carry my power and I cannot use my fullest power if they are hidden. The rest is mere illusion."

He strode past Isaac with a swish of his skirt, standing beside Arabella, and looked down at the poor man with a faintly condescending frown.

Isaac shrank under the stare, muttering something incoherent about unreasonable vampires and how as rumors had told them vampires are haughty yet this one is a special blend, the kind that actually would kill someone with just words.

If all vampires were this way, he rather have the castle be closed for eternity, or at least that was what Arabella heard from Isaac’s grumbles.

She watched them both in silence, feeling oddly unbothered despite the tension before her. Cassius, in this false form, still exuded the same cold authority, and Isaac, for all his loyalty, trembled under it. But he didn’t seem to be utterly annoyed by Isaac or threatened, instead something but his action seems to say that he somehow respect Isaac despite his attitude.

She wondered, though, if Cassius’s irritability stemmed not from Isaac’s fumbling words but from something else, from the unspoken fact that Isaac had almost asked what Cassius’s true form looked like. That, Arabella sensed, was something Cassius still wasn’t ready to show, not to Isaac, and perhaps not even to her.

And she didn’t press. Not yet.

"So what do we do now?" Cassius turned to question Arabella, crossing her arms, "I have a plan on my own but I assume you two have your own plans?"

"Plan of your own?" Arabella curiously questioned, "Morpheus isn’t here right now. His arrival back to the castle has been delayed but we can’t exactly guess when he would come back."

"We can, of course," Cassius snapped his finger for a small hourglass to appear beside his palm and with ease he placed it on one of the cupboard, "When all the sands disappeared that’s when the bastard is back. For now we are free to do as we will."

"Not entirely free, actually," Isaac quipped and seeing his red eyes, he backed closer to the door, "There are still Lord Morpheus’s followers."

"They are not too difficult to fool," Arabella muttered, "But there is a woman with them who I think is quite difficult to deal with."

"Well forget about them," Cassius looked around and saw an apple. He took them, sat down on her bed and casually took a bite off it, crunching it with delish, "Because they are going to be my prey." and she could see from where she stand the curl around his lips, a grin that seemed malicious yet instead of finding it apprehensive, she chuckled, enjoying the sight.

Even Isaac was confused as usually she wouldn’t be laughing when someone was being mean!

But it’s clear that she enjoys Cassius’s presence.

"You- w- what’s your name?"

Cassius hummed and looked at the ceiling before turning to Arabella, "What do you think my name should be?"

And smiling, Arabella hummed, "I have always thought of one good name..."

By the afternoon, the cloaked woman paced back and forth with nervousness in front of a library when suddenly she bumped into a maid. With a sigh, she immediately looked at her own clothes, wiping the water that had spilled from the vase the maid was holding.

"Be careful next time."

"I’m sorry, I’m sorry," blinked the maid before turning away...