Last Born Of The Desdemona

Chapter 62: Chapter 62: Target chosen

Chapter 62 – Target chosen

Isolde remained silent after Cassius’s words. Her mind stalled — then, like a clock rewinding — every moment she had lived because of her sister replayed itself inside her head.

Everything she had been denied. Everything taken from her. All of it simply because of her sister’s existence.

If it had only been that — if it had simply been Anesthesia’s presence naturally drawing light and warmth toward herself — then Isolde might have at least tried to bleed out the bitterness and anger directed at her.

But it wasn’t only that.

Anesthesia unmistakably enjoyed taking everything from her. Not because she needed it. Not because she was evil in the purest sense. But because she could, and because she believed she had the right to have whatever she wanted.

That was who Anesthesia Amaris was. A woman who viewed the world as a game where every rule had been written in her favour.

One might have expected life’s trials to show her otherwise. But nothing of the sort had happened. If anything, she had been proven correct by obtaining the unconditional love of Emrys Stormblessed, the child born on the day that only comes once every hundred years, the day the Red Moon and Blue Moon appeared together in the sky of Sunu Gaal, their light merging to birth the Purple Moon — the Moon of Infinity, the Moon of the Honoured.

That was the man who loved her above everything.

And so with a sister like that, an envy — a purpose — had taken root inside Isolde’s heart: to strip from Anesthesia everything she owned or believed she had the right to.

That was why she had accepted the Fangs’ invitation.

She had known she needed resources to grow stronger, and her own means of building subordinates, in order to lay the groundwork for everything she intended.

That was until Cassius came into her life, and asked the question that had made her pause for a long time:

’Do I want to do this only to be seen and acknowledged by my parents and the world? Or do I want it because I truly want it, regardless of what it gains me, except the sight of my sister brought low?’

The answer had come faster than she expected. And it had made her will stronger.

Now that someone had seen and acknowledged her, Isolde could see clearly through the fog of bitterness and insecurity that had been cloaking her for years.

And she knew with certainty...

”I want to do it.” She answered, her eyes serious. ”Didn’t she want her ring back? We’ll give it to her without hesitation.”

Cassius’s eyes curved like a crescent moon. ”Is this truly your desire, darling?”

”Yes.”

”To destroy your sister and everything she’s built?”

”Aye.” Her smile carried something sharp behind it, like daggers hidden between her teeth. ”Don’t you already know? I am twenty-one, Cassius. My sister is eighteen. I have spent the last eighteen years of my life in a way that would have driven many people to kill themselves, or turn out far worse than I am.”

She clenched her fist, her voice dropping into something darker. ”Do you know how much a three-year-old child needs love and attention and affection from her parents to grow up healthy? Well, I received none of it the moment Anesthesia was born. None. And I grew up exactly like that. Stripped of the love and protection I was owed. Because it is their responsibility to care for the child they brought into this damned world. And if they think that food and a roof and clothing makes someone a parent...”

She bit her lip, fury searing through the words. ”Then even a compassionate stranger you met a minute ago could qualify.”

Cassius smiled softly watching his wife pour out everything she carried; everything that had made her who she was now: a woman prepared to frame her own sister to take her down.

It was cruel, objectively. Not her action alone — even if it was genuinely wrong — but the fact that a person could carry such intense anger toward her own blood.

He found himself wondering: would any of this have been different if Isolde’s parents had simply acted like parents? If they hadn’t ignored a three-year-old who desperately needed to be held? If they had guided her instead of treating her like a stranger who owed them results?

Maybe. Maybe not.

He couldn’t say. A person was ultimately the sum of their memories and how they chose to interpret them.

But it no longer mattered. Everything was set now.

”Then it’s decided. We frame Anesthesia.” Cassius said, pulling Isolde into his arms in front of the four watching.

Maxim’s eyes went wide as a cold realisation settled over him.

He had known something was wrong when he was attacked for doing his job. Only now did he understand how deeply wrong.

’Olympias is Isolde Amaris.’ He stared at her face, his lips trembling. ’And Cassius Desdemona is her husband. She... she betrayed the sect for a man?’

He couldn’t believe it.

Neither could Aissatou, watching her lady melt inside Cassius’s arms like a woman who had never known what warmth felt like.

She suppressed a shudder.

’My Lady... what are you doing? You are risking everything you have built — everything that cost you so much pain — for a man? Vorn take my soul. We are going to die.’

She wanted to scream it. And wanted more than anything to get up and run before they were found out.

But she didn’t.

Not only because of her fear of Isolde. But because of the debt she owed her lady.

A debt that could only ever be repaid with her own life.

At that realisation, she sank further in her seat, face growing paler as the bleak future loomed before her.

Horus and Océane, meanwhile, didn’t react so dramatically; they didn’t know the full extent of the situation after all. But watching Maxim and Aissatou, they understood well enough that it was bad.

They exhaled quietly under their breath.

”However,” Cassius added, Isolde still in his arms, ”it’s wiser to also use Horus, so that Anesthesia won’t be able to trace any of this back to us.”

”Right.” She nodded. ”You said he needs a cure for his tumour.” Isolde continued, making Cassius nod. ”Well, it just so happens there’s a considerable amount of cash inside Anesthesia’s ring. Which, as you know, is extremely unusual for a noble. That means only one thing.”

”She was planning to spend it on something.” Cassius guessed.

”Aye.” She smiled. ”So what if that money was used to hire our little old man Horus for a task...a task that led him to find our Base Operation?”

The two of them smiled at the same moment, and Isolde pressed on.

”Easy to verify too. The Sect can confirm whether Anesthesia withdrew that amount from her account. And with Horus’s background, everything falls perfectly into place.”

”Excellent. But how do we justify the connection between Anesthesia and Horus?” Cassius asked, tilting his head.

”What else?” Isolde replied. ”My sister is in the Royal Capital under some kind of protection because of her talent.” She sneered, then continued. ”Horus has every reason to despise the Royal Family. We present those two facts and leave the rest open. Let them fill in the gap themselves.”

She lifted her hand and caressed his left cheek. ”If we try to prove every detail, it will smell wrong. They are assassins, they will sense it. Some things must be left unsaid, so that their minds do the work for us. Who knows? They might interpret it in ways we never planned and benefit us more than our own design would have. As long as they believe Anesthesia made a deal with Horus — the how, why and when are no longer our concern.”

[...] Ananke nodded in silent agreement.

”Oh my.” Cassius exclaimed, then tried to bite Isolde’s hand playfully against his cheek. She pulled it away and gave him a light slap for the rudeness. He laughed. ”I am falling harder and deeper, darling.”

”It’s surprising you can still fall deeper.”

”My love is boundless.”

”So is my greed for it.” She bared her teeth into a grin and whispered, ”And besides, you receive every kind of attention and love I could have given to others. Aren’t you lucky?”

”More than lucky. I might be Lady Luck’s favourite child.”

”Favourite?” Isolde scoffed, then separated herself from him, pivoted, and began walking toward the four subordinates waiting for their verdict.

”I just tend to be the favourite of everyone and everything.” He shrugged, following her. Isolde chuckled, unable to deny that one.

At least, among those who knew him, Cassius was very loved.

Then his red eyes settled on Maxim, and a wide grin split across his face.

The poor man literally yelped.

”Darling, do we actually need this one?”

”We do.” Isolde smiled faintly. ”But not in one piece.”

”Wonderful.” Tongues of crimson fire licked across Cassius’s body, coiling along his skin. ”Then let me have a small session.”

”Make it fast. We don’t have much time.”

”Aye, darling.”

—End of Chapter 62—