Midnight Confrontation

The night enveloped the room with its chilling embrace as the red-haired woman entered, a trace of annoyance etched on her features because of Duke Caius' unexpected summons. Seated by the fireplace, she sought solace from the night's cold. 

Duke Caius, on the other hand, kept his back turned to her, gazing out of the window at the moonlit landscape. His features were etched with a cold and angered demeanor, his icy blue eyes revealing his inner turmoil. However, he maintained his composure.

"Unimportant matters waste my time," Isabella retorted nonchalantly, her focus clearly on more pressing matters, such as the potions she was working on.

Yet, Duke Caius had no intention of letting her dismiss his concerns. His voice pierced the frigid air, his tone harsh, "Didn't I instruct you not to meddle with Mabel?"

The night seemed to grow even colder as his words hung heavy. Isabella felt a shiver crawl down her spine, not due to the weather, but the aura of anger emanating from him. 

She rebuffed, "I haven't laid a hand on the child."

Her statement held the truth; she had not physically harmed Mabel. But Duke Caius, with a chilling calm, turned to face her, his eyes locked with hers, his presence imposing.

"I never imagined you to be so obtuse as to misunderstand my intentions," Duke Caius muttered, finally turning to face Isabella.

Isabella felt a bone-chilling shiver run down her spine, not from the night's cold but from the eerie aura surrounding Duke Caius. Nonetheless, she refused to show weakness. 

Rising from the sofa, she stood her ground and spoke firmly, "This is not my fault; she was the one eavesdropping."

Isabella, realizing the gravity of her actions, backed away as Duke Caius advanced slowly. She knew he was just as unpredictable and relentless as she was, and she had no desire to provoke his wrath any further.

But Isabella's sharp tongue couldn't resist one final taunt, "And about that 'cheap woman,' it's the truth, isn't it?"

The room's atmosphere grew electric with tension as she continued to goad him. Yet, Duke Caius was swift, a blur in the night as he seized her by the throat, his grip unrelenting.

"I warned you," he hissed, his grip tightening, his eyes devoid of warmth. He had no qualms about ending her life if she continued to endanger his daughter.

"You've truly lost your sanity," Isabella choked out, struggling for breath.

Duke Caius, his grip like iron, merely replied, "I lost my sanity long ago. That's why testing my patience is an act of utter foolishness," a chilling smirk playing across his lips.

What Isabella had said to Mabel was nothing short of outrageous. He had heard the entire conversation between her and Clara from Clara's mouth and was prepared to take drastic measures. 

He cared not for the Emperor's orders; his powerful Dukedom and unwavering determination to protect his daughter surpassed all else.

Isabella let out a mirthless chuckle, her gaze locking defiantly with Duke Caius's. She harbored no trace of regret as she met his icy stare. "It's all because of that woman, isn't it? Selena is dead, Lirio! That child is not her!"

Duke Caius's grip on her neck tightened further, depriving her of precious oxygen. Her face began to turn an alarming shade of blue as she struggled for breath.

"If... If you intend to kill me, then do it! You already did so a long time ago! My... My heart died the moment you hurt me," Isabella gasped out, her struggles growing more desperate by the second. She grabbed and straching his hands like her life depended on it. 

Duke Caius's jaw clenched, his fingers turning white as he fought his own demons. He wanted to kill her so badly. 

But still, he has mercy. Especially his guilt toward her, always haunting him, and the promise he makes to Selena becomes a burden.

He recalled that moment vividly. The memory of Selena and him sitting by the grand fountain in the Palace, their feet dangling in the clear water.

Prince Lirio watched Selena, her delicate fingers playing with the dancing water, creating mesmerizing ripples on the surface. Her melancholic gaze met his, and she spoke softly, her voice laced with sadness.

"How is your relationship with Isabella? Do you think she could ever forgive me?" Her voice held a deep sadness.

Prince Lirio, cool and composed, crossed his arms. "I can't say for sure. I'm considering ending our engagement," he remarked casually, as though discussing the weather.

Selena frowned, her disappointment etched across her face. "You can't do that. She is my dearest friend, after all."

Prince Lirio rolled his eyes at Selena's statement. "She was. But she has hurt you repeatedly, not just once, but many times. This time, her actions are unforgivable."

Selena reached out, taking Prince Lirio's hand. "But it's because of you and me. I think it's time to put an end to all of this. Besides, I already have a fiancé," she declared with utmost seriousness.

Prince Lirio's expression became troubled as he tightened his grip on her hand. "No, we're just friends, aren't we?" His words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken feelings.

Yet, deep within his heart, Prince Lirio knew that he felt more than mere friendship towards Selena. The desire to be by her side, to share every moment with her, transcended the bounds of conventional friendship. 

He cared not for the idle gossip that circulated within the palace's opulent halls. He harbored a fierce protectiveness, a willingness to silence any slanderous tongue that dared to speak ill of Selena.

Selena, however, shook her head resolutely. "No, I'm sorry, but I can't. Please, take care of Isabella. She's my best friend. Promise me you won't hurt her, even if she tries to hurt me." Her purple eyes gleamed with determination.

With a heavy heart, Prince Lirio nodded in solemn agreement. Deep inside, he knew that this pretense of a 'friendship' was merely a guise for the inevitable.

He never wanted to part ways with her, but reality seemed determined to drive a wedge between them.

"You and I may still be friends, but no true friend would dare to absent themselves from their own wedding in favor of a mere 'friend,'" she replied, gently releasing Prince Lirio's hand.

And with that, Selena departed, leaving Prince Lirio alone by the fountain's edge, her figure receding into the palace's grandeur. 

It was his first taste of heartbreak, but he couldn't deny the love he held for her. He remained steadfast, holding on to the promise they had shared.

In a moment of mercy, he released his grip on Isabella. She collapsed to the floor, gasping for air, her chest heaving as she fought to regain her breath.

Duke Caius, his temples throbbing, sighed heavily. "Consider this your final warning. Stay away from my daughter, or face the consequences."

With that, he exited the room, leaving Isabella trembling on the floor.

...

Mabel aimlessly toyed with her fork, its prongs dancing over the untouched strawberry cake before her. Her peculiar behavior caught Anne's attention, leaving her perplexed by the unusual sight.

Strawberry cake had always been Mabel's absolute favorite, capable of eliciting squeals of delight upon sight. Their modest life at the orphanage rarely afforded them such luxuries.

Curiosity led Anne to speak up, concern lining her voice, "Mabel, is everything alright?"

Seated together in the garden, they enjoyed a serene tea time beneath the gentle caress of sunlight, surrounded by the songs of birds and the fragrant blossoms. Sunlight bathed them in its warm glow, making parasols unnecessary.

Mabel sighed, her fork still fixated on the strawberry. "Honestly, Anne, even I find this situation confusing."

She sat in silence, contemplating how to begin the conversation with Anne. The past week had been filled with confusion and sorrow, her emotions a turbulent storm within her.

She had recently learned of her mother's death, a revelation that weighed heavily on her heart. The knowledge that her mother had died because of her left her feeling burdened with guilt and sorrow. 

Sharing this with Anne was not an easy decision, but she knew that Anne was a trusted friend who would understand her plight. With a deep breath, Mabel resolved to open up to Anne.

"It's about my mom," she continued her words carrying an air of uncertainty.

Anne's eyes widened in surprise. "Your adoptive mother? But I thought Duke Caius didn't have a wife," she inquired, leaning in closer, her curiosity piqued.

"No, I meant my real mom," Mabel emphasized, a term she rarely used, hinting at her biological parent.

Anne was momentarily rendered speechless, processing the revelation. "Your biological mother? How did you find out?"

For children like Mabel, born under mysterious circumstances, their parents' identities remained a mystery.

Mabel had been left at the orphanage's doorstep, found in a basket with only the name "Amabelys" — her own.

Anne's mind raced as she recalled the day vividly. The faint cries of a baby had led her to the discovery of Mabel, the basket, and the mysterious letter that bore her name.

"Both the Red Witch and my daddy know about my mom," Mabel divulged, confusion etching her face.

Anne fell silent, the implications of this newfound knowledge weighing heavily on her. Most pressing among her questions was, "Who is this Red Witch?"

Mabel leaned closer, her fingers nervously intertwining beneath her lowered head. "She suddenly came to our house and kept speaking badly of my mom and me," she whispered.

Concern etched across Anne's face, she inquired further, "Did she harm you in any way?"

Mabel paused, her expression thoughtful. "No, she didn't. In fact, she offered to help me heal the burns in my hand when I accidentally spilled some tea. She's strange, Anne, I can't quite make her out."

Isabella remained an enigmatic figure in Mabel's life, an enigma that left her puzzled. Despite her mother's disparaging remarks, she still extended a helping hand when Mabel needed it. It was perplexing.

Anne tilted her head, equally baffled by this strange woman. "But if she doesn't like you, why would she care?"

"I know, right? She's just... strange," Mabel replied, crossing her arms in frustration.