As Cassius toyed with the idea of simply tilting the bowl and pouring the entire contents back onto Isaac’s lap, because clearly this must have been the young man’s brilliant revenge plot.
He found himself robbed of the opportunity as a cluster of maids, drawn in by curiosity and the hope of greeting the newcor, drifted toward their table like a flock of brightly chattering birds. They set their plates down beside theirs with the kind of warm, innocent smiles that could only exist in people who had absolutely no idea how close they were to danger.
"You must be Cassandra," said one of them— Mires, if Cassius rembered correctly from Isaac’s earlier warnings before entering the dining table. She leaned in with the eagerness of soone eting a long awaited treasure. "We’ve heard so much about you, but we never actually got to see you! So we thought maybe you were so kind of fairy."
Cassius stared at her, an eyebrow slowly arching. A fairy. Fairy?
In all his centuries of existence, no one, ever, had accused him of radiating fairy energy. Now what exactly was he expected to say to that? He angled his head toward Isaac with the silent precision of a man who had decided, fully and without sha, that dealing with this was not his job. His eyes said everything, demanding him to fix the situation as if he tries to fix it, it won’t end up with just one crying maid but blood.
Isaac, catching the look, muttered under his breath with the bitterness of soone realizing he’d accidentally adopted the most impossible creature in the palace. "You must have been a king in your previous life."
"If only I corrected that for you," Cassius whispered back, sounding as though this entire situation exhausted him on a spiritual level.
Before Isaac could scold him, another maid stepped forward, Riley, with her hair neatly tied into a high ponytail so perfect it didn’t even bounce out of rhythm.
"We want to hear more about you, Cassandra! Co on, sit with us. Let’s eat together."
Cassius exhaled sharply, a sound that was almost a growl disguised as a sigh, and allowed Isaac to usher the maids’ focus elsewhere before they pulled him into a full interrogation. Out of every ordeal he’d survived, poisonings, court conspiracies, assassination attempts, this charade of pretending to be a ek, harmless girl was truly the one that gnawed at his patience.
He sat down with the stiff resignation of a predator forced to pretend it was a dostic pet. Eyeing his food, he scooped a portion into his mouth, eating quietly and without complaint solely because doing anything else risked revealing his true temperant.
Unfortunately, the maids continued staring at him as though he were so strange creature they wanted to poke with a stick.
"To be honest..." Mires spoke first, wearing the kind of hesitant expression people use when they’re about to be extrely impolite. "I thought you’d be soone much more... well, much more brilliant."
Riley nudged her with an elbow and laughed. "Don’t be an, Mires." she then turned to Cassius, "I hope you’re not offended, Cassandra. We both tried applying to beco Lady Arabella’s personal servants. We used to serve Lady Ariel, but Lady Arabella rejected everyone. We assud it was because she had incredibly strict standards." Her gaze drifted toward "Cassandra," who was currently eating mashed potatoes with the approximate enthusiasm of a bored child and without bothering to look up.
"Well," Mires added, smirking, "it seems Lady Arabella didn’t have any standards at all."
Isaac inhaled slowly, a very specific, resigned inhale that Cassius recognized as the I’m going to regret being responsible for other people sigh. He knew how terrible Cassius was when it cos to playing nice.
For now, Isaac could see how Cassius attempted patience, but that won’t be for long.
On one hand, Isaac also understood these two had been vying for a better placent, wanting to beco Arabella’s maid as the person they were serving was a different kind of Hell. But mocking others to soothe their pride was unacceptable, especially when the person they were insulting was the one man in the palace least equipped to handle disrespect without bloodshed.
"Stop it," Isaac said firmly. "You didn’t get in, but she did. Maybe Lady Arabella saw sothing in her that the two of you don’t have."
He ant to soothe the situation, truly. But he didn’t know that his words were nothing but a word of a poor fool. His attempt at civil only tossed a lit torch into a pile of dry straw. He completely missed the tightening of the maids’ jaws, the flash of wounded pride, and the simring hostility quickly blooming behind their polite smiles.
"Really? Then tell , Isaac," Mires snapped, leaning forward with a cutting sweetness that didn’t reach her eyes. "What exactly does this one have that we don’t? She’s not pretty, she’s not smart, her clothes are filthy, so I doubt she can even clean properly."
Cassius froze mid bite.
A small, delicate twitch tugged at the corner of his eye.
And for the first ti since sitting down, he lifted his gaze from his al. Not as Cassandra the maid, but as Cassius, the king who always rather enjoy returning malice with a worse Hell. And the two maids, still blissfully unaware, kept talking.
"I heard you’re an orphan too," Mires added, her tone dripping with the kind of false sympathy that was crafted not to comfort but to wound. "Maybe that’s why Lady Arabella chose you? Everyone knows how kind she is. After hearing you were all alone in this big castle, she must have picked you out of pity."
"That makes the most sense," Riley agreed, stabbing her fork into the turkey with a sharp, deliberate thrust. She didn’t look at Cassandra, she looked through her, as if Cassius were no more than a smudge on the table. "So don’t you think, Cassandra, it’s only right for you to repay her lady’s kindness?"
"Stop it—" Isaac hissed under his breath, a warning he already knew they wouldn’t heed.
"How should I repay her?" Cassius cut in smoothly.
The maids blinked. They hadn’t expected the ek, quiet Cassandra to respond—not with such calm, not with such intent. Cassius folded his hands neatly on the table, posture impeccable, voice polite... too polite. "I’ve been wanting to return the lady’s kindness," he continued, eyes glimring with sothing Isaac recognized and feared. "Truly. But I have never known how. Since you two seem to have such wisdom, surely you can advise ."
Riley’s smile spread slowly, triumphant. She believed Cassandra had taken the bait. She believed the trembling, scruffy girl before her was finally desperate enough to listen. And the joy of it, the power of having soone vulnerable clinging to her words, made her eyes shine with misplaced confidence.
"Well, how about stepping down from your position?" she suggested sweetly, folding her hands as if offering sisterly guidance.
Mires gasped with excitent, her eyes lighting up like candles. "Exactly! Don’t you understand, Cassandra? Because of you, Lady Arabella has been called a freak. She hides in her room most days, and when she does appear, she always wears those plain, shabby outfits. If she had a better maid, soone with real skill, she’d look much more presentable. She wouldn’t have to endure sha every ti she steps outside."
"Right," Riley said, nodding eagerly. "So surely you understand, don’t you? We’re saying all of this because we care. Out of worry."
"Yes, yes, exactly," Mires chid in, placing a hand over her chest as if she were delivering an earnest confession. "Since Lady Arabella chose you because she felt bad for you, it’s only right you repay her kindness by... knowing your place. Honestly, I don’t know why she insists on having only one maid. Lady Ariel was so much kinder, so much more graceful. Completely different. Are they even truly sisters?"
Riley sighed dramatically. "Unfortunately, we’re stuck with the younger one just because she has more magical power."
"But she’s hardly impressive," Mires muttered, her nose wrinkling. "Lady Circe must’ve been far more brilliant. It’s such a sha we’re forced to endure this witch instead."
Isaac’s frown sharpened, his jaw tightening. "You’ve said enough."
Mires scoffed. "Tsk. You don’t understand, Isaac. We all want this curse lifted as soon as possible. But did you ever even see her trying? From the mont she arrived, she’s been... strange. And after she struck Lord Morpheus during their spar, so viciously, mind you, who knows what else she’s capable of? That kind of violence... it’s frightening. We’re trapped with a volatile witch simply because she has power."
Riley humd thoughtfully, twirling her fork. "I just hope Lord Morpheus can ta her after the marriage."
Silence.
Just as Mires was about to add, turning toward Cassius, a sudden hand was stopped by Isaac.
Mires and Riley’s faces both turned cold as they saw Isaac holding back to Cassius’s hand that had held the fork, ready to stab through the hand only for Isaac to stop him.
As stunned as them, Isaac gagged when he saw how the fork was just inch away from severing Mire’s fingertips.
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