They both stared at each other for a long while, the silence between them stretching thin as a blade’s edge. Neither blinked, neither spoke. The air grew still, pressing down on them with invisible weight, and even the flas in the candelabras seed to hesitate in their flicker, as though afraid to disturb what was unfolding.
Morpheus’s gaze bore into her with the weight of storms, sharp and unrelenting, yet she didn’t waver. There was no tremor in Arabella’s breath, no softening in her stare.
The faint curve that had once played at the corner of her lips had vanished, replaced by sothing cold, asured, and unmistakably serious. When he saw that change, when he saw the quiet fury glimring behind her green eyes, he knew. She was not jesting. Not this ti.
If he refused her now, she would do sothing he’d rather not see. Sothing that would wound him, not with force, but with precision, where it would hurt the most.
The seconds passed in slow, heavy silence. Sowhere far in the corridor, a gust of wind crept through the crack of a half-closed door, making the candle flas tremble, their light shifting across the dark stone walls. Finally, Morpheus sighed and crossed his arms, his broad shoulders rolling back in reluctant surrender.
"I shall hear that condition," he said at last, his tone low and edged, like the rumble before thunder. "And give you my own. Only one, of course, so it is fair."
Arabella’s lips parted into a faint smile, a dangerous, slow one. "Seems like we have gotten to an agreent," she murmured, stepping closer to the light. "My condition is simple: no woman shall ever be beside you. Not even a single one. Put all the female servants away from you, outside the court."
For a mont, the words didn’t seem to register. Then, his expression shifted, doubt clouding his sharp features. It wasn’t the condition he had expected. Not the ambitious, cunning trap he had been bracing for. Instead, it was... personal. Intimate in its simplicity.
"That’s all?" Morpheus’s voice took on a teasing lilt, though his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. "I didn’t take you to be a jealous woman."
Arabella let out a soft chuckle, the sound like the whisper of silk against glass. "I thought you knew well. Well enough to understand that I dislike sharing, especially my groom, with another maid." Her eyes slid sideways, finding one of the won standing frozen near the archway. The servant’s face paled instantly. She had been seen with Morpheus once, and though nothing had been spoken aloud, Arabella’s gaze alone made her drop to her knees and press her forehead hard against the cold marble floor.
The faint sound of her trembling filled the quiet, and Morpheus’s lips curved faintly, cruelly. "If you are so upset, I could erase the source."
His voice was casual, but the venom behind it was unmistakable. His green eyes glinted with the suggestion, cold, rciless. The maid’s body went rigid in fear.
Arabella’s smile faltered, her brows drawing together for the briefest mont, but she quickly hid it behind a gentle laugh. "Not the woman, Morpheus. You’re the source of the problem," she replied, her tone smooth yet cutting. "It takes two to tango. She, being beneath you in rank, was she ever in a position to refuse your demands? Of course, that doesn’t an she’s innocent. Her eyes have been clouded by greed, yes, but that doesn’t make you any better."
A flicker of sothing unreadable crossed his face, perhaps irritation, perhaps amusent, but his voice ca softer this ti, controlled. "Then my condition is for you to forgive what had happened. Trust . That is what I want from you."
The words landed between them like a fragile promise or a curse. Trust. Arabella felt a shiver coil down her spine, though her expression remained unreadable. Trust him? A man who had spun lies like silk? A creature who had chard, deceived, and ensnared her in his gas since the beginning?
Her voice ca steady. "I will trust you throughout these tests," she said, every word precise and deliberate, "but trust doesn’t an blindly trusting. If you spell a single lie to , then the trust between us will be broken. As for forgiving..." her gaze turned toward the trembling maid "I will not hold a grudge, but you shall not harm her."
Morpheus smirked faintly, the expression gliding across his face like a shadow. "I’m not as heartless as you think, Arabella," he said, his tone mocking but smooth. Then, as if to punctuate his words, he lifted the gown he had been holding and dropped it onto the floor. The fine silk crumpled at his feet like fallen snow. "In that case, you wouldn’t want this gown and would prefer another one."
Arabella didn’t even look at the gown. "Before the wedding dress," she said instead, her tone shifting, cool and composed once more "I’ll give you my first test."
She turned toward one of the shelves near the wall. The air slled faintly of dust and parchnt. Running her fingers across the spines of the books, she stopped on one bound in deep green leather, embossed with strange silver markings that shimred faintly in the dim light. She pulled it free and tossed it to him with one graceful movent.
Morpheus caught it effortlessly, the corners of his lips curving upward.
"In this book," Arabella said, her voice low but clear, "there is a story about a flower that grows only in a snowy field. I want you to bring that flower for , and consider the first test done."
"That’s all?" he asked, raising a dark brow. His voice was calm, but there was curiosity behind it. Leaving the castle was no easy feat, not for him or anyone bound to its walls, but it wasn’t impossible either. Still, he couldn’t help but feel there was sothing hidden behind her calm request, sothing he wasn’t seeing.
Arabella smiled faintly, her green eyes glimring with mystery. "Are you disappointed?" she asked softly, stepping closer so the light caught the sharp line of her jaw. "Don’t worry. I will ask you for three tests, and we shall see how many of those you will still think easy."
For a long while, they simply looked at each other again, two forces circling, bound by pride, power, and sothing far more dangerous than either wanted to admit. Outside, the wind howled faintly against the old windows, as if the night itself listened to their dangerous ga.
"Three days," Arabella then announced, "Now pick that dress from the gown and bring all the maids out of my room. I want to sleep, I’m tired."
Blinking, Morpheus let out a sigh. His green eyes rolled before he nudged his chin, ordering all his people to leave before he beca the last one to walk away from the room as well, holding to the door knob.
"Rember Arabella once you are married to there should be no such action from you."
Arabella turned and chuckled, "If you could marry that is."
Morpheus laughed, his tone condescending as if he believed that there was no way for Arabella to win against him, none and that the wedding might as well be called to happen tomorrow.
When he left, Arabella’s smile crack. She raised her hands at the nearest vase and without looking, lift it to the sky, and threw it straight to the door from which Morpheus had left before stomping away and sitting on the bed.
"There is salt in that vase, maybe that will get rid of that demon’s presence."
Hearing her words, Isaac finally stirred from his position and rushed towards her.
"Milady marriage in sorcery... is swore under an oath. Once it happened you could never escape the wedding... never."
"I know Isaac," she showed him a smile though it was brief and short lived, "I have thought of a way."
"But..."
"Don’t worry," Arabella assured him, "That monster wish to see crumble but that won’t happen. Continue with our plan for three days Morpheus won’t leave the castle as he cannot but he will be gone for a while as he has to move his puppet away to the snowy mountain to find the said flower."
"He will succeed the test in a breeze, milady," Isaac said with worry, knowing that a re flower wasn’t ever going to be enough to stop Morpheus.
"Why worry? There is two more test. I know he will succeed this one so that is alright," she pointed to him, "Now is ti for to set the second trap."
"A trap for when Morpheus cos back with the flower?" the naive isaac asked but she let out a grin over her lips and shook her head.
"No, not him, soone else."
Her words hung between them and that sa afternoon, Morpheus who had walked to his throne room turned toward the figure of a cloaked woman who had been devotedly walking behind him.
Without turning, he spoke, "And as you heard her earlier, you won’t be stationed anywhere near anymore."
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