The Battle of Words

Boredom had taken a firm grip on Mabel. It had been a week since she became Isabella's student in potion crafting, but all she seemed to be doing was writing and memorizing. 

Isabella had her write from an ancient book of letters countless times and memorize numerous potion recipes and magic circles. Her hand ached, and her fingers trembled from the repetition. 

It felt like a relentless ordeal, and Mabel had considered giving up. Still, Isabella remained tight-lipped about her mother, engrossed in her research and often shushing Mabel whenever she tried to initiate a conversation.

Desperate for a break, Mabel reluctantly set her quill down and rested her head on her open book. She glanced over at Isabella, who was engrossed in her work just a short distance away. 

Isabella's stern voice broke the silence, "Don't stop writing."

Mabel sighed in frustration but hesitated to complain to Clara, who was peacefully sleeping on the nearby sofa. With a heavy heart, she resumed her writing. 

Then, a sudden question escaped her lips, "Don't you get bored with all of this?"

Isabella, without looking up, responded curtly, "No. You can give up if you want to."

Determined not to give in just yet, Mabel retorted, "I am not!" She couldn't afford to lose to the Red Witch, not when she sought even the smallest bit of information about her mother.

Isabella halted her writing, lowered her quill, and turned her attention toward Mabel. She crossed her arms and stared at her with a disapproving expression, making Mabel feel self-conscious. 

"I know you don't have any interest in potions," Isabella observed. "What do you want?" she inquired, her tone sharp and probing.

"Umm... I just wanted to be close to you," Mabel stammered, her cheeks blushing with embarrassment. 

While her statement held some truth, it wasn't the whole truth. She couldn't bring herself to admit that she yearned to know more about her mother. Some unspoken reason prevented her from confiding in Isabella.

Isabella raised an eyebrow, her disdainful demeanor at odds with Mabel's unexpected words. Isabella leaned back in her chair, contemplating Mabel's statement. Mabel squirmed under her gaze, growing increasingly uncomfortable.

Then, as if a thought had suddenly struck her, Isabella spoke, "You wanted to know about your mother, didn't you?" It was a guess, but it left Mabel even more flustered, beads of sweat forming on her temple.

Unable to evade the truth any longer, Mabel hesitated before finally asking, "Won't you tell me about her?"

Isabella looked at Mabel, baffled by the question. She couldn't fathom why Mabel would ask her, especially when Isabella had always treated her with hostility. 

She leaned back in her chair, pondering for a moment. Her curiosity had been piqued, and she decided to probe further, "I've already told you everything I know about your mother. If I were to say more, you might only be disappointed."

Mabel, refusing to give up, responded with determination, "It's fine, even if it's just a little. I want to know about her."

"That--" 

Isabella's attempt to respond was abruptly interrupted by the swift swing of the door, revealing Duke Caius with Vincent trailing behind him. 

It was a frequent occurrence, this intrusion into Isabella's space, particularly when he knew that Mabel was helping her with their monster-slaying endeavors.

Isabella's eyes rolled in exasperation, while Mabel simply sighed. Deep down, she cherished her father's presence, but moments like these frustrated her. 

She longed for a private conversation with Isabella, free from her father's constant interventions.

Duke Caius, brimming with excitement, inquired about Mabel's lesson as he approached her. He enveloped his daughter in a warm embrace while casting an irritated glance in Isabella's direction.

Isabella furrowed her brows and retorted, "You're interrupting us." Her displeasure was clear.

Mabel caught between her loyalty to her father and her desire for a less disrupted lesson, nodded in agreement. "Isabella is right."

This caused Duke Caius to sulk and retreat to a corner, seemingly convinced that his daughter was in a rebellious phase and didn't want to talk to him anymore. 

He couldn't help but feel a pang of sorrow at the thought that Mabel was growing up and might no longer want to confide in him. In his mind, he dramatically envisioned a future where she would get married and leave him alone. 

It was an overly sentimental notion, given that Mabel was just eight years old, but his parental worry knew no bounds.

Vincent, knowing Duke Caius' attic, cleared his throat and told them, "Young Lady, please remember that Your Grace has set aside his precious time just for you."

Mabel's remorse grew, her guilt gnawing at her. She approached her father and tenderly hugged him. "I'm sorry, Daddy. I didn't mean to say that."

Duke Caius, his stern facade softening, replied, "It's alright, Mabel. I know you love me." He returned her hug warmly.

Isabella observed this peculiar scene, her bewilderment growing. Duke Caius had never acted like this in the past. 

He had always been distant and aloof. Seeing him in this uncharacteristically affectionate state deepened the creases on her forehead.

In response to the sudden interruption, Isabella snapped, "If the two of you want to continue this ridiculous act, take it elsewhere. I'm busy." She tapped her fingers impatiently on the table, demanding their departure.

Duke Caius shot Isabella a glare filled with annoyance. "Oh, what a delightful way to greet your landlord," he retorted sarcastically.

"Landlord? Well, this isn't even your territory, Your Grace," Isabella replied, putting extra emphasis on 'Your Grace.'

Duke Caius' brows furrowed as Isabella's taunting got under his skin. "Fine, then. Perhaps you should visit the lord of this territory in his manor about your temporary placement, instead of gracing my manor with your presence," he smirked.

Isabella rested her head in her hand, unimpressed. "Say that to your brother. If he agrees, I'll happily oblige," she countered, her smirk mirroring his.

The room crackled with tension as they exchanged biting remarks, each ready to take the other down. However, their battle of words was interrupted by a groggy Clara, who had just woken up from her slumber. 

She looked between Isabella and Duke Caius in confusion and turned to Vincent, seeking an explanation.

"Same as usual," Vincent replied curtly, his patience for their bickering wearing thin.

Meanwhile, Mabel had had enough of the childish argument. She sighed and observed the two adults, perplexed by their inability to get along despite her father providing Isabella with a place in Ashford Manor.

"Stop it!" Mabel exclaimed, her annoyance evident as she crossed her arms. "Why do you two always have to fight like children?" She addressed both of them.

"Mabel, tell her to drop the attitude," Duke Caius said, pointing at Isabella.

Isabella, undeterred, shot back, "You should tell your father to shut up."

"What? Tell her, Mabel. She should stop being so insufferable," Duke Caius countered, his arms crossed.

Isabella was about to continue the argument when Mabel reached her limit. "Talk to each other! I'm not your messenger bird!" Mabel said sternly, stepping away from the two quarreling adults and flinging the cottage door open.

"Quit fighting, or I won't talk to either of you!" She stormed out, slamming the door behind her.

Duke Caius sighed and then glanced at Isabella, who wore a self-satisfied smile. "Why don't you go after your precious daughter? I don't mind if she doesn't want to talk to me," Isabella remarked nonchalantly, further fueling his frustration.

"This is not over," Duke Caius declared sternly before he left the cottage.

Isabella, still wearing a satisfied smile, replied, "You can find me here anytime; I won't flee." She resumed her work, feeling victorious in the battle of words. 

Meanwhile, Clara and Vincent exchanged glances and sighed. "Well, Vincent, why don't we have some tea?" Clara suggested.

"With pleasure," Vincent agreed. Finally, a moment of respite from the ongoing drama in the manor and the enigmatic Lord.

Mabel, seated on a park bench in front of a bubbling fountain, sighed in annoyance. She couldn't understand why her father and Isabella never seemed to get along, always bickering. Their animosity left her with a host of unanswered questions.

"Why can't they be kind to each other?" Mabel pondered aloud. "Why do they hate each other so much?" The questions swirled in her mind, lacking answers.

Suddenly, Duke Caius appeared, settling beside Mabel on the bench. Still vexed, she turned away from him. She felt frustrated, because of their subsequent argument with Isabella.

"I'm sorry, Mabel," Duke Caius apologized. "I've missed you. That's why I've been visiting Isabella's cottage so often. We hardly spend any time together anymore."

Mabel turned to look at her father. He was right; they had grown distant as she focused on searching for someone far away. She had forgotten about the person right in front of her.

"I'm sorry, Daddy," she replied. "Let's spend time together again, just the two of us."

Duke Caius smiled warmly at her. "You truly are my precious daughter, Mabel," he said, patting her head. He felt relieved that she understood.

Curiosity got the better of Mabel, and she asked, "But why do you always fight with Isabella?"

Duke Caius hesitated. "Because I'm not convinced that she'll tutor you with care. I'm afraid she might hurt you."

Mabel raised an eyebrow, still skeptical. Isabella was her father's guest; shouldn't he treat her with respect? Moreover, the fact that they both knew her mother suggested a deeper connection. There had to be more to their relationship.

"But you seem to know each other well," Mabel pointed out.

Duke Caius was taken aback. His daughter was more perceptive than he had realized. Well, the truth would come out eventually.

"We used to be friends," Duke Caius admitted, a touch of nostalgia in his voice. "But not anymore."

"Why?" Mabel inquired, her curiosity piqued.

Losing a friend was an unfamiliar concept to her. Even during arguments, friends would eventually reconcile. The idea of losing a friend permanently puzzled her.

Duke Caius's eyes filled with sadness. "It was my fault. I made a terrible mistake that couldn't be forgiven."

Mabel wanted to ask more, but her father appeared lost in his own memories, locked in the pain of the past. She simply sat beside him, silently offering her presence and understanding.