CHAPTER 474: ALL’S FUN TO ME

Crunching an apple in his hand, Cassius lounged lazily on a high branch of one of the trees near the stable entrance, one leg swinging idly while the other braced his weight. The evening air around the stable was always thick with the scent of hay and damp earth, mingled faintly with the musky odor of horses. Though he was a King, he didn’t mind the scent, after all today he was going to witness something so incredibly fun to watch.

A single lantern swayed from the beam above the stable, while the sound of the neighing horses rang from inside the stable.

Cassius tilted his head slightly, watching especially to a young stableman at work. The boy was perhaps no older than twenty, his sleeves rolled up, his forearms smudged with grain and straw.

Though horses were hardly used much anymore, especially with how all of them had been cursed to stay within the castle proximity, to his quiet surprise, this particular stablehand performed his duty with an almost reverent dedication.

The young man, left alone in the midst of such quiet evening walked back and forth, carrying stacks of hays to feed to the horses and brushing their mane as though he was caressing a baby.

Seeing how attentive he was, Cassius thought of how he almost feel guilty for what was about to occur next. Perhaps he should feel remorse for letting the boy walk straight into the snare of someone else’s malice but then again, curiosity was such a delicious vice, and for his plan a few people getting hurt didn’t seem to be such a terrible cost.

Right on cue, the sound of sharp heels broke the stillness.

Click. Clack. Click. Clack.

Cassius smirked and straightened slightly. A cloaked woman had entered, her presence disrupting the quiet air of the stable instantly, almost turning the once bright stable to a pitch black darkness.

Her heavy velvet cloak dragged across the dirt floor while her eyes scanned sharply at the row of stalls with the intensity of a hawk hunting prey. Cassius, lounging in the shadow, didn’t move. He merely turned his head to the side, toward the young stableman still busily cleaning a feeding bucket, unaware of the cloaked woman’s presence.

The woman’s pace quickened. "You!" she snapped, her voice annoyed with impatient.

The stableman flinched, startled, the bucket clattering softly against the stone. When his gaze lifted, he froze.

Ah, Cassius thought, biting back a grin. So the rumors were true.

For so many days he spent in the castle, he found out that sorcerers here had the bad habit of always telling rumors. One of it was about this young stableman, Northam.

Word had long circulated that this particular stablehand, young, eager, and uncharactistically good-looking for his station, had a fondness for seducing every maid or sorcereress who so much as looked his way. Cassius was only throwing a blind bet but after watching the boy’s expression melt from confusion into breathless fascination, he realized there was some truth to it.

The cloaked woman wasn’t exactly beautiful, at least, not in any ordinary sense. Her features were hidden beneath the hood, but her bearing spoke of someone accustomed to worship. The type of woman who knows she should be adored for her beauty.

The way she carried herself, the faint tilt of her chin, the elegant fingers clutching the edge of her cloak, it all suggested a beauty carefully concealed, the sort that would make anyone swept up by the urge to uncover the mystery behind the hood.

Her figure was shapely, the fabric drawing against her curves as she moved, and even through layers of clothing, there was an air of deliberate allure. It instantly rang the young stableman’s head as he knew this woman was to be his next target.

Cassius took another bite of his apple.

"What’s your name?" she demanded to the man, her eyebrows seemed drawn over her forehead.

"A– Ah?" The young man stammered, blinking at her. His eyes darted, trying to glimpse the face beneath the hood, only to settle, predictably, on her figure. His throat bobbed as he swallowed hard, nerves and interest tangled together. The lantern light caught the faint sheen of sweat on his brow. To him, she must have seemed like another one of his new target, the one he would try to seduce with all his might so he could get under her skirt just for once.

The mystery of the cloaked woman only added to the allure but he knew better than to scare the woman away with his lewd thoughts and so he quickly pulled himself together with a smile.

Recovering his wits, he wiped his hands on his trousers and offered a hesitant gaze. "Northam, milady. Is there anything I might help you with?"

From the shadows, Cassius could almost feel the temperature drop.

The cloaked woman’s gaze hardened, a faint curl of disgust tugging her lips. Northam’s eyes had lingered on her body too long, and though she had expected as much, the reality of it still sickened her. This was the man Arabella had fallen for?

A stablehand with greedy eyes and cheap charm? Her revulsion was soon eclipsed by satisfaction. How perfect... how suitable and how useful.

If this pitiful creature was truly Arabella’s chosen lover, then the evidence would be damning enough to make Morpheus recoil. Somewhere in Morpheus’s heart he held a soft spot toward Arabella whether he would like to admit it or not. And she had been long unhappy about this.

The only way for Morpheus to start despising Arabella was easy, after all he had stayed beside him long enough to know that if there was one thing Morpheus despised the most about women is their promiscuity.

Let him see Arabella roll in the hay with a common stableboy, let him taste disgust instead of mercy. Then, when she had outlived her use, they could finally discard her like the useless pawn she was.

Cassius’s eyes glittered with amusement as he watched the woman’s lips curl into a slow, poisonous grin. He knew that look, it was the look of someone about to strike.

"You seem young," she hummed, her tone honeyed and cruel all at once, "but are you a great cleaner?"

Cassius chuckled under his breath, his teeth sinking into the last bite of apple.

The game had begun.

"Of course I am, milady!" Northam said eagerly, puffing his chest a little. "If there’s anything you’d like me to do, everyone in this castle will tell you I’m the best man for the work. Not to brag, but I’ve never failed a task, not even once throughout my long years of life."

He chuckled at his own words, the sound a mix between boyish pride and something faintly suggestive. He leaned a little closer, lowering his voice in what he must have thought was a charming tone. "Though, I must admit, some tasks are more enjoyable than others, especially when they come from a lady such as yourself."

The cloaked woman’s eyes twitched beneath her hood.

"I see," she said coolly, as if she hadn’t heard the undertone in his voice. "I was thinking that since all the maids have been moved away from Lord Morpheus’s study, we’re in need of additional male servants. You seem to fit the job."

Northam’s grin widened instantly. "Oh! Of course, milady, I’d be honored to serve you... or, well, serve him, of course," he corrected hastily, though the playful glint in his eyes betrayed him. "Still, I can’t help but feel I’d much rather be at your service personally. I’m quite good with my hands, if I may say so. If you wish for me to perhaps give you a great massage after studies or if you would like me to work my fingers to write for you instead, I can assure you that I would not fail my task."

He gave a small, half-bow that was clearly meant to look gallant but came off as clumsy, the gesture almost making her sneer.

"I’m sure you are," the cloaked woman murmured dryly, her tone dripping with contempt she barely bothered to hide.

Cassius, watching from the shadows, bit back a smirk. Oh, this was turning out far better than he’d expected.

"This afternoon, I want you to come to the storage room behind the gallery. There are paintings that need to be moved, and you know there aren’t many people who have been honored to go there—it keeps some of the most important paintings and documents of the castle. It would do you great if you keep this information to yourself. You’ll be doing all the tasks alone and I hope you’re not a person who gets bored easily, as it will only be a one-person task."

Northam grinned lewdly, his tongue briefly wetting his lips.

Though her meaning was perfectly straightforward, his mind twisted it into something entirely different. The way she said alone, the secrecy of it all—it was enough to light up his filthy imagination.

Ah, he thought smugly, so that’s what this is.

He understood—or rather, believed he did. The task she had given him had to be kept in secret, yes, but surely not for something as dull as moving old paintings. No, this was an invitation—an unspoken understanding between a highborn woman and a man of... skill.

And there could only be one reason she wanted the meeting kept hidden.

She must have heard the rumors. About how good he was in bed. About how even noble ladies came to the stable under the moonlight, pretending to admire the horses while their eyes sought him instead. It wasn’t rare for such women to test their curiosity, and this cloaked one was no exception.

Behind the gallery, he repeated in his head, grinning wider. Private. Quiet. Just us two.

"Of course, milady," he said, dipping his head with exaggerated respect, his tone dripping with self-satisfaction. "You can count on me to handle... every task to your liking."

The cloaked woman’s jaw stiffened, her gloved fingers tightening on her sleeve. If she noticed the lewd inflection in his tone, she didn’t show it—though under the fabric, her knuckles had gone white.

"Good," she said curtly. "I expect punctuality."