To His Hell and Back
Chapter 40: A Son and A King

Chapter 40: A Son and A King

The tension in the room was thick. It was difficult to figure out what was going on inside their heads, especially when these vampires could speak sweetly and deadly without a single emotion being shown on their pale faces. Arabella found it hard to adapt to this tension. She rather go out and farm in the field on a stormy night than sit here, with these people who seemed to be venting out each of their frustration by cutting their stake sharp enough until the plate could ring out an ear-piercing screech.

She sighed and looked around, preparing to sit in the corner of the dining room but Cassius hadn’t let her wrist go.

Politely, she muttered, "Your Highness, I should sit on the floor..."

"Why?" Cassius remarked as he ignored his sister’s glare that was piercing him and smiled back at her, "I used to eat with the birds I raised, I was so fond of them that they always sat on my shoulders as I eat and I’d feed them as a reward for being obedient."

So?

Her question of "So" reflected funnily on her face as she raised one eyebrow while squeezing the other, giving him almost a roll of her eyes if she wasn’t being surrounded by these vampires who were ready to wring her neck.

She then looked at his shoulders which he tapped with a grin.

Shoulders?

"You want me to sit on your shoulders? I don’t think it’s possible?" She asked him in a mutter but Malvo, the young step brother of Cassius broke into a stifled chuckle.

She gulped, realizing her voice had gotten a bit too loud, and muttering wouldn’t help with how sharp these vampires’ hearings were.

"Last time I checked, birdie, I know how much you weigh and how you won’t fit my shoulders," he said, smiling but that smile was stale which made her inwardly gulp. "There are other places to sit on is it?"

"Where?" She asked only to see him patting his lap as if telling him that this was the only place she could sit. She looked around, trying to see if anyone reacted to Cassius’s crazy preposition but no one seemed to care or budge, all except Queen Morgana whose face was mortified.

Cassius’s red eyes enjoyed her flustered expression but he enjoyed more seeing everyone in the dining room was all in chaos inwardly, while trying not to show it on their face. He turned to his lovable bird, "Now," he demanded, smiling while waiting for her as he wouldn’t let her sit anywhere else.

Arabella cursed him to go bald in his head while slowly moving to sit on his knees. With eyes closed, she wished this man would disappear into thin air and hope she was too heavy for him but he muttered right beside her ears, his breaths warmly brushed her earlobes which made her nervous.

"Don’t worry, your master won’t hurt you," Cassius whispered and that was true but ordering her to sit on his lap while being in this room wasn’t going to hurt her physically.. only mentally!

"You’re mental," she whispered.

"Poor you," he chuckled, "For having such a mental owner."

She gritted her teeth, wishing for Cassius to trip, stumble... anything that would wipe that ever-present smirk off his face! Sitting on his lap was unbearable. His legs were firm and unmoving, like the surface of a pillowed throne, offering unsettling support. But the awareness that they were a man’s legs beneath her only made it worse.

She despised being this close to any man, especially after the incident with Minister Rueben. Though Cassius had never leered at her like those disgusting courtiers, unease coiled tight in her stomach. Instinctively, she tried shifting away, but his grip on her waist tightened, pinning her in place.

Effortlessly, he plucked a piece of steak from his plate, the meat sliced into perfect cubes.

"Open your mouth," he coaxed, his voice smooth, coaxing yet edged with command. He held the fork just before her lips. "It’s well done. No blood. You’ll like it."

She hesitated, staring at the offered bite. Then, her gaze flickered to his face. His eyes glowed with an almost childlike anticipation, as if this act of defiance- of feeding her in front of his family— was nothing more than another game, another way to wreak havoc on this already fractured court.

Perhaps that was all this was to him. A rebellion. A provocation.

Taking a shaky breath, she closed her eyes and parted her pink lips into a round circle.

Cassius intently watched her small mouth opening, like an adorable little bird ready for a treat. His fingers steady as he placed the piece of steak against her waiting tongue and he noted how those pink lips closed as it moved to taste the meat around her tongue.

Her lips closed around it, the warmth of the meat spreading across her palate, but she barely registered the taste. The only thing she was aware of was him, his gaze, the steady hold at her waist, the unbearable intimacy of it all.

Seeing her lips that had turned glossy, Cassius had even picked up the napkin and gently dabbed it around her lips, wiping away the traces of oil around her mouth.

"Good girl," Cassius praised, amusement laced in his voice.

Her eyes snapped open, her cheeks burning. "Don’t talk to me like I’m some pet," she hissed, swallowing hurriedly.

Cassius merely chuckled, his hold on her unwavering. "A pet? No, Bella." He leaned in, his breath ghosting against her ear. "If you were a dog, they would’ve put you down for biting too much."

She glared at him, seething, but he only smirked and speared another piece of steak, lifting it once more.

"Now, don’t make me think you’re still too afraid to eat at the family table."

She turned behind to where his eyes had laid on, finding that Queen Morgana’s pallid face had turned bright red with anger. Unable to contain the annoyance, she jumped to her feet, smashing her hand on the table which made her entire body flinch and for Cassius’s grip on her waist to tighten.

"I cannot believe that there would come a day when I would have to eat with a slave!" She then crumpled her napkin and marched toward the door, her feet stomping across the floor, making it clear of how angry she was to watch the intimacy of Cassius feeding Arabella at their family dinner.

Across the table, Malvo sighed, setting down his fork with a quiet clink. He hesitated only a moment before standing, bowing briefly to the King in a show of etiquette. "My apologies, Your Majesty." His voice was subdued, though tinged with something that almost sounded like reluctance.

Then, without another word, he turned and followed after his mother.

The King, however, remained unmoved. He barely spared them a glance, his expression as impassive as ever. Lifting his goblet, he took the final sip of thick, dark human blood before setting it down with a soft thud. Then, he pushed himself to his feet.

Arabella stiffened as his gaze flicked toward Cassius. His expression was unreadable, but something about the rigid set of his face, the cold detachment in his eyes, sent a chill down her spine.

Then it struck her.

For the briefest of moments, perhaps because of how close she was to Cassius, she thought she saw something in the King’s face. Not just sternness, but something deeper. Something hollow. It wasn’t the gaze of a father, a frightening gaze that made her think her father who had sold her was somehow better.

And suddenly, Cassius’s words from before echoed in her mind.

"You’re not the only one who’s had a bad father."

Her breath hitched.

Had he meant...? Himself..?

She turned slightly, glancing up at Cassius. His smirk was still there, the picture of arrogance, but now, just for a second, she wasn’t sure if it was only a mask.

It wasn’t a son and a father.

In this table, there is only a son and his King.

"Come to my room once you are done, Cassius."

Cassius nodded, deliberately making his movement sarcastic, "Have a great night Father," he then said as the King frowned before he made his way out of the dining room.

Following the King, the chair beside them screeched. Princess Marissa eyed them and scoffed in disgust, "A child is all you are, Cassius. Do you have to make every dinner feel like a nightmare?"

Cassius’s tone was as calm as a passing breeze, yet the weight of his words settled over the room like a storm.

"Of course, I will," he replied smoothly. Then, tilting his head ever so slightly, he added, "Didn’t you eat in peace while I was killed, sister?"

A sharp inhale.

Princess Marissa’s breath hitched, her entire body going rigid. The guilt was plain in the way her fingers curled into fists, the way her gaze faltered.

But Cassius wasn’t finished.

His voice, still unnervingly composed, cut through the tense air like a blade.

"So let’s not pretend we enjoy these little meals together when we can barely stomach each other’s presence." His lips curled into something that wasn’t quite a smirk. "It would be a relief, truly, if one of you would finally drop the act—stop feigning familial devotion when we all know the only reason we remain at this table is the throne and the cursed blood in our veins."

A heavy silence followed.

"You... tsk." Princess Marissa’s sharp heels turned, and she ran toward the door, closing it loudly behind her and leaving Bella to clean up with the rest of the mess, the Crown Prince whose face had suddenly bent on her shoulders.

For a moment, she questioned if he was crying but then heard his bubbles of laughter. He had thrown his head backward and let his laughter to burst out, so much so that he found himself running out of breath at the end of his laugh.

She slowly turned at him, staring at him as if he had lost all his marbles.

Small tears settled in Cassius’ eyes, not out of sadness, but from all the laughter. Only once he was done laughing that she could speak, "Do you do this often?"

"What?" He asked, his tone so joyful and entertained, "What do I do so often, birdie?"

He spoke so kindly, maybe because things had gone the way he planned.

"This. To make chaos in this dining table..." she drawled. "This doesn’t feel like a family dinner."

Cassius leaned on his hand he propped on the table while staring at her who was still sitting obediently on his lap, "How does a family dinner feel like?" His question sounded naive but somehow it saddened her. "Peaceful you mean?"

She nodded, "You... were trying so hard to aggravate everyone in the room. Was that really necessary?"

"Yes," came his sharp voice. His red eyes peered at her and only now could she tell how much kinder he was to her, even compared to his family. He would insult Queen Morgana, and he would poke where it hurt the most to Princess Marissa, but he was never actively on her case.

Should she be grateful?

"If you’re a family, you shouldn’t hurt each other, whether physically or emotionally," she muttered, wondering if he could even understand her advice.

"True, I believe that myself to be true, birdie," He smiled softly but his words turned grim, "But why do they have to bother me by making this make belief of a beautiful, loving, and an intact family when we’re broken from the inside?"

She pursed her lips, seeing his red eyes bleak and empty from emotions made her only to feel somehow lonely.

His red lips spoke again, "Do you still think your father is your family, Arabella? Despite him exchanging you to death for his freedom?"

The question was sudden and she found herself unable to come up with an answer. She despised her father, not only because he had used her as a way to pay off her debt, but also because he had hurt her sister.

"I can’t," he answered before she could reply. "I don’t treat people who had pushed me to death’s mouth as my family anymore."

She blinked, her green eyes wide at him, "And all of them... had done that?"

He didn’t confirm it but his smile spread wider on his red lips, "One tries to kill me for her position on the throne, one tries to kill me for her own safety and because of her cowardice, the other one you ask? He will use my life in exchange for his late wife’s soul."

Bella tried to understand what he meant. If the first was Queen Morgana, the second Princess Marissa... was the third the King?

How could the King use Cassius’s life as an exchange?

Her curiosity brimmed in her, making her desperate for an answer. She just opened her lips to ask when a thumb pressed on her lips, "We are done with questions tonight. It’s time for me to sleep, alone, you should go back to the dungeon alone today. I will pick you up tomorrow."