To His Hell and Back-Chapter 511: Slipping Masks

Esme spun sharply toward the castle corridor, her voice echoing with frustration as she barked, "Where is that other maid?! The one who goes by the name Cassandra!"

Her shrill tone bounced off the stone walls, and a nearby maid flinched at the sudden aggression. Unfortunately for Esme, the maid could only stare back blankly, too nervous to even form a proper answer.

They had all left the dining table together; they had all seen Cassandra leave earlier than the rest; and none of them had been ordered to keep track of her the way Riley had. There was simply no way they could know where "Cassandra" had gone— or where she was now.

Esme hissed a curse under her breath, clicking her tongue sharply before stomping off, skirts swaying behind her like an offended cat’s tail.

Isaac watched her from the stable window, his breaths still uneven from the confrontation. He watched her shadow dart frantically through the corridor, saw her silhouette crossing from room to room, searching, hunting, desperate to catch someone— anyone— slipping up. But of course, she had no idea that her frantic efforts were pointless.

It was already far too late for her to find Cassandra. Cassius had made sure of that long before Esme even realized she should be suspicious.

Cassius was never inside the castle tonight.

In fact he hadn’t been in the castle since the evening and considering Esme only realized it now that something was off spoke of just how good their plan was, crafted to perfection that the witch herself didn’t know.

In truth, he hadn’t even bothered masquerading as a maid this evening. He had not sat among the maids, had not eaten at the table, had not even stepped into any corridor that Riley’s eyes might have scanned.

No, Cassius had been out of the castle entirely, moving under the cover of darkness, fulfilling his promise to Arabella to bring the "helpful ally" he claimed would be the key to defeating Morpheus once and for all.

So then... who had accompanied Isaac to the dining hall? Who had sat among the maids, nodded at conversations, and played the role so convincingly that not one soul had doubted her identity?

Across the castle, in the quiet sanctuary of Arabella’s chamber, the truth revealed itself. Arabella exhaled softly as she tugged off the crisp maid uniform, letting the fabric fall to the floor before she slipped back into her comfortable nightgown.

She layered a thicker robe over her shoulders, the warmth settling around her as she stepped toward the mirror, only to blink when she realized that although the uniform was gone, the magically morphed face was still staring back at her.

Her magic wasn’t as refined as Cassius’s, not even close. But it had done its job well enough tonight.

She resembled Cassandra perfectly, at least from the neck up. The body beneath the illusion had remained her own, unchanged.

Luckily, Cassandra was not very tall, and Arabella herself wasn’t much shorter, so none of the maids had noticed the tiny inconsistencies. And considering how unfamiliar most of them were with Cassandra anyway, it was no wonder that not a single person questioned why "Cassandra," who used to be about Isaac’s height, appeared slightly shorter.

With a snap of her fingers, her face shimmered, the false features dissolving like mist until her true reflection reappeared. Arabella tilted her head, pleasantly surprised by how well her magic had held up. It wasn’t perfect, but it was convincing enough to fool everyone, even Esme.

Before she could dwell on it longer, a soft tapping came from her window. She moved to open it and smiled as Cassius slipped inside with feline ease, landing silently on the floor. She looked around behind him and raised her brows.

"But you’re alone?" she asked, surprised.

"The two of them can’t come to your room without attracting too much attention," Cassius replied calmly, dusting off his sleeve.

"That’s true," she admitted with a thoughtful hum. "If I suddenly brought in two more maids, people would grow suspicious. So what should we do now?"

"Don’t worry," Cassius reassured her, though the faint crease in his brow hinted at complications. "From now on, they will be staying in the stable. The good news is that we managed to let them inside the castle grounds at all. The bad news is—"

He never finished.

The door to Arabella’s chamber suddenly exploded inward with a deafening crack. The violent force sent both of them flinching as the door swung wide, slamming against the wall hard enough to rattle the candleholders. It was as though whoever stood outside hadn’t simply pushed it open, but attempted to tear it off its hinges.

Arabella turned sharply at the sound of the door crashing open, her nightgown lightly sweeping the ground as she turned.

Her gaze landed on Esme, whose face was a twisted mask of anger and desperation, so much so that she had clearly forgotten every pretense she normally hid behind.

The elegance, the polite smile, the calculated sweetness she used to disguise her ambition... it was gone.

In its place stood a woman whose obsession with control had finally boiled over. And she didn’t even seem to care that Arabella, the supposed "witch of the castle," was watching it all unfold. 𝒻𝑟𝘦𝘦𝘸ℯ𝒷𝑛𝘰𝓋ℯ𝘭.𝘤𝘰𝘮

Esme stormed forward with no hesitation, brushing past Arabella in a careless rush before turning on Cassius, still disguised in Cassandra’s form.

She grabbed him by the wrist and yanked him forward with such force that he stumbled, falling to his knees on the cold stone floor. Esme sneered down at him.

"Isn’t she a wet cat now?" she scoffed, flicking her finger toward the slightly damp front of Cassius’s clothes. "The weather outside just rained. For her to be this wet, it means she left the room, didn’t she? Funny, because your servants swore no one stepped out. Didn’t you say that?!" She snapped the question toward the trembling young sorcerer stationed beside the door, who jolted in terror and bobbed his head in frantic agreement, clearly regretting every life decision that led him here.

Esme turned back to Cassius, her eyes glinting with triumph. "So— she left. Or maybe... she came back just now? Which one is it?"

Arabella, however, didn’t flinch even at how correct her accusation was.

Her posture remained composed, her expression calm to the point of irritation, as though Esme’s dramatics were nothing more than a minor inconvenience. "She is wet because she did just return to the room," she replied evenly.

"Oh?" Esme stopped her pacing, pivoting sharply to stare Arabella down. "You’re quick to admit it today, aren’t you?" Her lips curled with provocation. "So tell me... where did this little rat slip out to? Sneaking around in the rain, meeting your... special people, perhaps?"

At the edge of the room, Isaac, who had just slipped back inside before the confrontation erupted, clicked his tongue quietly.

This wasn’t in their plan!

They had only practiced the scenario up until Cassius’s return, not the disaster that unfolded when Esme stormed in like a furious lioness. And the rain... oh, the rain. If only it had held off for ten minutes longer. Cassius’s damp hair and clothes were too honest, too damning, too perfectly timed to make lying easy.

"Well?" Esme demanded, stepping closer to Arabella now, as though proximity alone could intimidate her into submission. "Mind telling us where she came from?"

Arabella did not waver. She met Esme’s glare with cool indifference, her chin lifting ever so slightly, a subtle challenge, a quiet declaration that she would not bow, not even by an inch. The silence stretched between them, thick enough to cut. And when Arabella still did not answer, Esme’s face contorted with fury.

"Speak!" she screamed, her voice cracking at the edges, not just from anger but from fear, fear of losing every shred of authority she had been clinging to with whitening knuckles. Arabella’s stare, steady and unbending, only made it worse.

It was the look of a woman who refused to be intimidated, who refused to yield, who refused to acknowledge Esme’s supposed superiority even for a second. And for Esme, who had felt power slipping through her fingers more and more each day, the expression was unbearable.

Her authority was slipping, and Arabella’s gaze told her she knew it.

"Did Morpheus told you to do this? To test and keep an eye on me?" Arabella inquired with a shrug of her shoulders.

Gritting her teeth, Esme scoffed, "If yes, why?"

"Then he had failed his third test. I don’t think you know but tonight marks the first night of our four day long third test. If he had sent you here... he failed. He can’t marry me and well... I doubt you are ready to face the consequence."

Esme scoffed, "Then it’s simple. He didn’t order me to do this but I came here by my own will. My own choice! Because I know that you are lying. You have remembered everything haven’t you?!"