Chapter 82: Chapter 82: Sarah, gentle lady
Chapter 82 – Sarah, gentle lady
The carriage was luxurious, as expected. Black and red, the Hood’s favoured colors, adorned with jewellery that only made it more striking. Despite the obvious motion of the vehicle, no sound or disturbance could be felt from within.
Inside, two couches faced each other. Sarah sat alone on one, her hands constantly fidgeting in barely concealed nervousness, sparing Cassius an apprehensive glance every few seconds, lips pressed into a thin line.
’What is happening?’ She asked herself, her blue eyes subtly trembling, braced for something bad at any moment.
After all, the one sitting across from her — smiling, looking through the window, legs crossed, his cane leaning elegantly at his side — was Cassius Desdemona.
And there was hardly anyone among the top ranks of the Kingdom who was not aware of the Last Born of the Desdemona.
Sarah didn’t know him particularly well. But what she did know — or rather heard — chilled her heart.
This was the same man whose mother had slaughtered an entire Tier Three Family at his instigation. And rumours whispered that he had watched the gorish, deeply traumatic scene of House Kanam drowning in a sea of blood, created by his mother from the fallen, with a smile on his face.
With all those rumours, Sarah had constructed a very clear portrait of him in her mind: a cold, arrogant, murderous young man who believed himself entitled to everything because of his illustrious background.
’But then why?’ She wondered, watching him. ’Why is he looking at me like that?’
"Are you alright?" Cassius asked with a gentle smile. "You seemed quite uncomfortable back there, between Anesthesia and my dear uncle Raven. So I took the liberty of getting you out of it."
He tilted his head. "Did I overstep?"
"Oh no, no!" Sarah shook her head immediately, smiling through obvious nerves. "I’m grateful for your concern, sir. But I was—!"
"Sir?" Cassius echoed, amused, gloved right hand resting on his chin. "We look to be about the same age, don’t we?"
"I... don’t think so, sir."
"How old are you, then?"
"Young Master!" Océane cut in from his right, her voice reproachful. "We do not ask a woman her age. You know that."
"Who made that rule?" He shrugged carelessly. "And this gentle lady clearly doesn’t seem to mind, does she?"
"Can you not see her? She is either frightened or embarrassed by you." Océane said, then turned toward Sarah with an apologetic tone. "I am sorry for my Young Master. He truly means no harm."
"Of course I don’t." Cassius said, looking back through the window. "All I am trying to do is help this gentle lady relax. Look at her, Océane, she looks at me as if I will eat her alive the moment she speaks."
"You are simply scary, Young Master."
"You mean handsome."
’Very. And that’s exactly what makes you scary.’ Océane thought, but held her tongue, not wishing to overstep.
She only smiled at him.
Sarah watched them both, eyes wide, as if witnessing something that should not have been possible.
Her blue eyes moved between Cassius and Océane, genuinely surprised by the warmth and ease between a master and his servant.
It was clear, just from watching them, that they had gone through something together, something that had drawn them close.
At that, Sarah couldn’t help but think of her own relationship with the Prince, and instantly felt pain and sadness and a crushing despair tighten her chest so hard she had the illusion of not being able to breathe.
"Gentle lady." Cassius’s voice cut through her dark thoughts. She jerked her head toward him with more force than she intended and winced, then met his eyes.
"You were somewhere else." He said, tilting his head and leaning slightly forward, Océane watching quietly. "Is something wrong?"
Sarah drew a slow breath. "No, sir. I apologise for—!"
"Don’t." Cassius said, looking back through the window, his red eyes settling on the road outside crowded with luxurious carriages and pedestrians moving through the Capital. "And I still don’t know your name, gentle lady."
"Sarah." She answered, head lowered.
"No surname?"
"I was never given one." She answered quietly, fidgeting. "I grew up in an orphanage."
"Oh." Cassius exclaimed, not with pity, but with a genuine smile. "An orphan who made it to the position of the Prince’s personal maid. Well, dear Sarah, aren’t you something?"
Sarah shook her head slightly, biting her lip. "Not really, sir." She kept her head down. "I didn’t earn this position through my own skills. I was simply lucky."
’I know, Sarah.’ Cassius thought inwardly, his outward expression staying calm and steady. ’I know exactly why you were chosen.’
And it was simply because Raven had selected her for her body and her unique Aspect.
An Aspect Cassius had not encountered the equal of anywhere in the entire first run of the game. It was that rare.
Her Aspect allowed her to store memories perfectly and never lose them, but also to erase any memory she chose from her own mind, completely and without side effects.
That was only her first Skill.
From what he remembered, Sarah’s second Skill allowed her to insert a memory into the mind of another.
It was severely limited, as it required her mental strength to exceed her target’s, and the target had to be completely immobile during the process.
Yet despite those limitations, she undeniably deserved her {Hidden Heroine} status. She was one of the most unique and important figures in Emrys’s harem.
Because yes, she would fall for him. As certain as anything.
Cassius shook his head inwardly, recalling how utterly broken Raven had been when he realised that both the woman he loved and the woman who loved him had become Emrys’s.
Raven had gone completely berserk. He had killed four of Emrys’s harem — Sarah among them — before ultimately dying at the protagonist’s wrathful blade.
A catastrophic ending. Yet the Hood had been able to do almost nothing at that point. The Desdemona had already been eradicated, and the Stormblessed no longer had any reason to fear fighting two powerful families for control of the Kingdom.
Only one remained.
And they were entirely confident in their own strength. Rightfully so. The Elders of Heaven of the Stormblessed were monsters Cassius hoped never to see in his lifetime.
The Hood had come close to complete decimation because of them.
’All of this officially began with you, dear Sarah. The moment Anesthesia’s manipulation pulled you into Emrys’s orbit.’ He thought, watching her gently, and spoke again.
"You said you were lucky?" He echoed, nodding. "Perhaps you were."
Sarah said nothing.
"But here is the mistake you are making, Sarah." He continued, she raised her head toward him in confusion.
"Being chosen may have been luck. But staying as the Prince’s maid through all these years, that is certainly not luck."
Her eyes widened slightly. Océane smiled quietly beside him.
"So don’t look down on yourself, gentle lady."
Sarah bit her lower lip, thoughts rushing desperately through her mind. ’If only you knew why I was kept.’ She wanted to say. ’If only you knew it had nothing to do with skill, only my body. What would you think of me then, Heir of Desdemona? Would you look at me with scorn? Contempt? That look reserved for something base and vile and unworthy of dignity? Or would you simply show me your real face, the one the whole Kingdom speaks of? The merciless spoiled killer. Why hide it in front of me? I am no one. Don’t hide. Just show me. Why do any of this? Why... play with me?’
Oh, how much she wanted to say it. But Sarah had been Raven’s maid for years. She had learned to hold her tongue about everything.
She didn’t need to say it for Cassius to understand what she was carrying, though.
But just at that moment, before any more words could be exchanged, the carriage stopped.
They had arrived.
Sarah shook her head and pulled herself together, immediately moving to open the door and guide Cassius to the Church.
"Stay here with Océane, Sarah." Cassius said, stopping her gently, rising with his cane. "It will take some time. Take the opportunity to visit the city. And," He glanced back at her. "Buy whatever you want. Don’t be shy. Océane has my bank card. She will cover everything."
"W-What?" Sarah looked stricken. "But sir, I can’t—!"
"I won’t accept a no." Cassius smiled and the driver opened the door.
He stood, walked out of the black-red carriage, then turned his head and looked back at them. Sarah’s face was pale with a mixture of wonder and disbelief.
He smiled one last time. "Enjoy, will you?"
Without waiting for an answer, he turned and faced the building before him. Behind him, the driver closed the door and returned to his seat with a respectful nod, ready to depart.
Cassius stood on the black stone. A few people came and went around him.
And ahead of him stood a massive black-and-red cathedral reaching toward the sky, the yellow sun striking it from above made it look like two seas, one black and one red, colliding in silence. Its presence was imposing in a way that pressed against the chest.
To the left of the entrance stood a gigantic sculpture: a hooded figure, face invisible, wearing a black robe that draped his entire form, a scythe taller than himself resting in his left hand.
A strange sensation radiated from it.
But Cassius was already looking at the figure standing at the entrance of the Church of Death.
A woman, plain face and unremarkable features with black hair reaching her lower back, and matching black eyes.
She wore the black robe of the Church, a hood covering part of her head, and a Scythe tattoo on her forehead identifying her clearly as the High Priestess of Death.
Her expression was not welcoming.
"What are you doing here?" She said flatly, looking at him with obvious distaste.
Cassius smiled simply. He gripped his cane and leaned on it slightly, then parted his lips.
"I am Cassius Desdemona. Last Born of the Desdemona and faithful husband of Isolde Amaris." He introduced himself plainly. "I have committed many wrongs in my life and caused death and pain to many, earning their hatred and a rather unflattering reputation."
The High Priestess opened her mouth. Cassius gave her no time.
"But I have heard that the Lord of Death is merciful and forgives those who truly wish to be forgiven, provided they admit their wrongs. So here I am. I will not lie to myself. For, as The Fool once said: a man who lies to himself can no longer see the truth of the world."
He spoke with a mock intensity that somehow carried the edge of something genuine. Then he raised both arms outward to his sides, like the wings of a bird about to take flight.
"I admit, High Priestess, that I am a sinner." His smile deepened strangely. "So I have come to confess."
—End of Chapter 82—
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