Echoes of The Past

Duke Caius and Isabella convened in the grand drawing room of Ashford Manor, the atmosphere tense with unresolved history and unspoken questions. The room's opulence contrasted sharply with the heaviness of their conversation.

"Why are you really here, Isabella?" Duke Caius inquired, taking a seat opposite her and fixing his gaze firmly on her.

Isabella's crimson hair cascaded around her like a fiery waterfall as she regarded him with a hint of amusement. "Is it so strange for me to visit an old friend, Lirio? Or should I call you Duke Caius now?"

Duke Caius remained unfazed by her attempt at levity. "Our relationship ended a long time ago, Isabella. Spare me the pleasantries." 

Though he harbored a hint of sympathy toward her, the thought of rekindling their friendship was as distant as the memories of what she had inflicted upon Mabel's mother in the past.

Isabella's sigh carried a hint of exasperation as she leaned in, her emerald eyes locked onto his. "Very well, let's get to the point. I've heard rumors, Lirio, that you adopted a child" She tapped her to the table unpatently. 

"Apparently, it's become quite the topic of conversation in noble social circles," Isabella continued with a sly grin, relishing the opportunity to unravel the mystery. 

"People find it utterly perplexing that someone like you would not only adopt a child but also shower her with love. It piqued their curiosity, and they've begun to speculate about the child's identity. It didn't take long for me to put two and two together, realizing she bears a striking resemblance to that woman."

Isabella was determined to hear about the rumors straight from Duke Caius's lips. She understood that this matter held immense significance, particularly concerning Mabel's parents.

Duke Caius's expression remained inscrutable, though he was aware that the rumors about Mabel had likely spread beyond the confines of Ashford Manor. 

"Rumors are often born from idle tongues, Isabella, with little substance to support them."

Isabella leaned forward, her tone low and dangerous. "Don't play games with me, Caius. I've seen the child with my own eyes. She bears a striking resemblance to—"

Duke Caius's sharp interjection cut her off, his anger seeping into his words, "Her name shall not pass your lips."

The memories of Isabella's actions in the past still haunted him, and he could never allow her to utter the name of Mabel's mother. He couldn't allow her to speak that name.

Isabella arched an eyebrow, undeterred by his anger. "So, it's true, then? The child is indeed hers."

She smirked, her words biting. "Let's not forget, Caius, that I wasn't the only one who wronged her. You, too, bear the same burden. If not worse."

In the moonlit room, Isabella's eyes gleamed with an almost sinister knowledge.

Duke Caius fell into a momentary silence, the weight of her words echoing through him. What Isabella had said was like a haunting reminder of his past, of the unforgivable sins he had committed.

He clenched his jaw, the truth cutting deep, even if she was the one to voice it.

He also knew that it was useless to hide everything from Isabella, she already knew. Mabel really looked like her mother, especially from her eyes, it was the same as her. 

"Yes, she is," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

Isabella leaned back, her victory apparent in her sly smile. "I thought as much."

Her tone turned mocking, "Even after all these years, you still carry a torch for her, to the extent that you've taken in her child from another man. What a pitiful state you've fallen into."

Duke Caius's hands clenched, knuckles white with tension. His gaze bore into Isabella's ruby eyes, seething with anger. 

His patience was tested to the limit, slammed his hand onto the table, his eyes blazing with anger.

Isabella's presence grated on his nerves, and if not for their shared history, he might have taken a more drastic action.

"You insolent woman! That's enough!" His voice trembled with irritation, his breaths heavy with the strain of their confrontation.

Isabella remained unfazed, her composure unyielding as she held Duke Caius's unwavering gaze.

Her calculated demeanor didn't falter, even as she presented him with another letter, one that hadn't made its way to his table.

"Read this, Lirio, and decide for yourself, since it seems my earlier letter failed to reach your attention," she remarked, gesturing toward the fireplace. The flames flickered, revealing some papers that had partially survived the flames.

Duke Caius snatched the letter from her grasp, his fingers gripping it tightly. The letter was a stark contrast to the previous one – golden paper, imbued with the scent of golden chrysanthemum, and bearing the seal of the Empire. 

It was an official missive from the Emperor himself, inviting Isabella to Ashford Manor to aid in a potion research project of great importance to the Empire.

However, Duke Caius was far from convinced. He crumpled the letter and, with a scowl, hurled it into the fireplace.

His voice held a trace of irritation as he questioned Isabella's true intentions, "What have you schemed with the Emperor?"

He wasn't fooled by the guise of research; he knew that this was a front for Isabella to dig deeper into his affairs, potentially uncovering Mabel's existence.

He couldn't fathom how the Emperor would cooperate with someone like Isabella, who had long been banished from the Palace. It raised suspicions about a more extensive plot at play.

As he pondered the situation, Duke Caius' mind swirled with questions and doubts. Could this be part of a larger scheme? Why would the Emperor involve himself with Isabella, knowing her history? The perplexing puzzle of the Emperor's involvement gnawed at him.

One thing was certain: Duke Caius had no intention of meekly complying with the Emperor's decree, especially when it threatened to expose Mabel to a world of danger and intrigue.

Isabella responded with a smirk, her posture exuding confidence. She didn't need to voice her plans; her presence alone was enough to communicate the impending threat. 

"Opposing the Emperor's orders would be tantamount to rebellion against the Empire. Do you wish to see your House reduced to ashes and the child's existence laid bare before him?"

Duke Caius ran a hand across his temple, weighing his options. Isabella's words resonated deeply, and he understood the perilous path he was treading.

If he resisted the Emperor's command, it would only draw more attention to Mabel's existence.

Seated back on the sofa, he sighed heavily, recognizing his lack of control over the situation. He couldn't protect Mabel by keeping her locked away forever, and now, he felt trapped between the demands of the Empire and his desire to shield her.

"Do as you please. But if you so much as harm a single hair on Mabel's head, I will not hesitate to obliterate you and everything you stand for," he declared sternly before leaving the room without a backward glance.

The room now stood vacant, save for Isabella, enveloped in the eerie silence that clung to her. With gentle grace, she lowered herself onto the sofa, her fingers trembling slightly. 

Unbeknownst to anyone, the formidable Isabella harbored a lingering unease in the presence of Duke Caius.

Every time those piercing blue eyes fixated on hers, seething with hatred and disdain, her heart felt like it was being shattered into pieces.

It would be a lie to claim that Isabella felt nothing for him anymore. The intense passion of the past might have cooled, but the embers of her feelings still smoldered, an indelible mark on her heart.

Crossing her arms, she ventured toward an open window, where a cool breeze whispered through the room. As her hand reached to close the window, her gaze drifted toward the resplendent moon, its luminous presence undeterred by even the darkest of nights. It bathed her in its silvery glow.

An odd mixture of anger and sorrow welled up within her. She couldn't help but mutter, her voice laced with disdain, yet her eyes betraying depths of sadness as vast as the ocean, "Even until the very end, you never allowed me to attain what I desired, did you?"

...

Mabel clutched Mrs. Bunnies even tighter, her imagination now racing in overdrive. She envisioned Mrs. Bunnies as a valiant knight ready to protect her from the dangers lurking in the garden. 

With a quick nod from her stuffed companion, they ventured forth into the garden of Ashford Manor, their mission clear: to explore the garden and outsmart the Red Witch.

As they entered the garden, Mabel couldn't help but marvel at the enchanting scenery. The setting sun painted everything in a warm, golden hue. 

Tall, fragrant flowers swayed gently, and the lush greenery surrounded them. In the garden's center lay a picturesque pond, its waters reflecting the fading sunlight.

"Stay close, Mrs. Bunnies," Mabel whispered conspiratorially. "We must tread carefully through this perilous garden. The Red Witch's presence is ever lurking."

Mrs. Bunnies seemed to nod with the gravest of expressions, and Mabel couldn't help but find it utterly endearing.

Her mind briefly flitted back to the night she first met the Red Witch, her beauty and mystique, but also the underlying sense of danger.

Mabel had affectionately given her the name "Red Witch" because everything about her was red, and she remained unsure whether the woman was truly wicked or not. 

Regardless, she knew it was best to keep her distance, especially since the Red Witch appeared to be recovering from some ailment.

Their adventurous journey continued, with Mabel's keen eyes scanning for any signs of danger.

Suddenly, a rustling sound emanated from a nearby bush. Mabel's heart raced as she signaled to Mrs. Bunnies to stay quiet and alert. 

"Did you hear that?" she whispered, her eyes wide with anticipation.

Once more, Mrs. Bunnies nodded in agreement, and together, they inched closer to the source of the noise.

Peering through the leaves, their eyes met a charming sight: a family of rabbits, their soft fur glistening in the waning sunlight.

"They're so cute!" Mabel couldn't help but exclaim, her delight bubbling over as she watched the rabbits hop around.

Mabel was entirely captivated by the furry family. In her excitement to observe them, she lost track of her surroundings. The next thing she knew, she had collided with someone and tumbled to the ground.

"Ouch!" she yelped, her gaze darting to her dress, carefully chosen by Clara for this day. Mabel was determined not to ruin it.

As she scrambled to her feet and tried to fix her attire, Mabel finally looked up at the person she had bumped into.

Her heart seemed to skip a beat as she recognized the woman before her, the one she had nicknamed the Red Witch or Isabella. A shiver ran down her spine, and she felt a lump in her throat.

"H-hello," Mabel stammered, her voice quivering. "I-I'm really sorry," she added, her eyes cast downward in fear.

The oppressive weight of Isabella's gaze bore down upon her. Mabel couldn't help but recall the night when the Red Witch had looked at her with disdain and hatred. Her fear intensified, causing her to tremble.

Isabella's voice cut through the tense silence, chilling and cold. "What are you doing here, child?" she demanded, her eyes narrowing suspiciously.