Depraved Noble: Forced To Live The Debaucherous Life Of An Evil Noble!-Chapter 65: Your Dream...

Isabelle stirred awake, still half-lost in the haze of post-sleep drowsiness.

Her eyelids fluttered open, and as her surroundings came into focus, she realized she was in the banquet hall—though the once-lively room was now subdued, its torches burning lower in the late hour.

Groggily, she blinked to clear her vision and that was when she noticed her young master, Cassius, standing right in front of her, and a small, contented smile graced her lips by reflex.

Then, with a startle, she remembered where she was—and, more importantly, how she was dressed. Or rather, how she wasn’t.

In a single frantic motion, she looked down, discovering that the blanket draped over her offered her only the barest modesty. Her cheeks flamed, and she let out a shriek of embarrassment, yanking it tighter around her body.

Cassius chuckled softly at the sight, crossing his arms as he surveyed her reaction. "It’s a little late to be covering up." He teased, his voice tinged with humor. "I’ve already seen everything, remember?"

Isabelle’s mind flashed back to the events that had unfolded earlier in the night—the intimacy she had shared with her young master and the unabashed way her body had responded to him.

That memory alone was enough to make her face burn even redder, her heart thumping a wild rhythm in her chest. Yet, embarrassment warred with something else: a lingering warmth from the closeness they had shared.

Trying to regain her composure, she pulled the blanket around herself more securely. Then came the realization—she recalled how she had gone off-script from what Cassius had intended for that evening, letting her emotions sweep her away.

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Guilt flooded her all at once and in a quick motion, she bowed deeply, head nearly touching her knees, her hair spilling forward.

"Y-Young Master." She stammered. "I’m so sorry. I-I messed up. I was supposed to help execute your plan to root out the traitors perfectly, but I…I got carried away. I lost sight of our objective because of my own impulses...Please forgive me."

She held her breath, bracing herself for the scolding she was certain would come. After all, it had been an important plan—a delicate one that required discreet coordination. And she, in her eagerness and, admittedly, her desire, had let the situation run off course.

But instead of the harsh scolding she was expecting, she felt the gentle weight of Cassius’s palm on the top of her head.

His touch was warm, reassuring, and when she dared to look up, she found him smiling, the expression equal parts amusement and genuine affection.

"You did fine." He murmured, stroking her hair. "Don’t fret so much. In the end, everything worked out. We uncovered more about those who’d been…less than loyal and imbecile who created this mess. And…" He paused, a hint of playfulness creeping into his tone. "You, well, you had your fun, didn’t you?"

She blinked, her ears turning scarlet. "I—" She struggled to protest, but Cassius didn’t let her finish.

"I mean..." He continued, letting his hand slip from her head to her cheek, lightly tracing her jawline. "I don’t see any other reason you’d become so…deliriously enthusiastic, unless it was enjoyable for you."

That casual remark, paired with his low, knowing voice, made her fold inward on herself. Another bow followed, even deeper this time, as if trying to hide her flaming cheeks in the folds of the blanket.

"It…I’s nothing like that." She mumbled, though her words lacked conviction. "I mean…it was just—"

Her young master silenced her rambling with an indulgent, understanding chuckle.

"It’s all right, Isabelle." He said. "Honestly, I’m not angry, since you’ve helped me more than you realize and helped me uncover a lot more of what actually happened. But next time..." He added, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "...let’s try to stick closer to the plan, hmm?"

She nodded fiercely, daring to look up just enough to catch his expression. The warmth in his eyes, the gentle tilt of his lips—these were all the forgiveness she needed. Relief washed over her, replaced swiftly by another wave of flustered gratitude.

"I promise." She managed, her voice barely above a whisper. "Next time, I won’t let my…urges…get the better of me."

Cassius lifted an eyebrow, a mischievous glint dancing there.

"Oh? You might consider that a promise, but I’d call it an…opportunity to test your resolve." He winked, taking one slow step closer. The proximity made her acutely aware of how little she was wearing under that thin blanket. "Because now I know exactly how easy it is for you to, well…lose focus."

She swallowed hard, her heart pounding. Words fluttered on her lips, but she found herself momentarily speechless.

It was enough that he wasn’t upset; that, in fact, he seemed rather amused and even flattered by her lapse in professionalism. The scandalized part of her wanted to protest, to defend herself—but some traitorous part of her couldn’t help but relish his playful teasing.

Gathering her courage, Isabelle managed a small, determined nod. "I…understand, Master."

"Good." Cassius said, his tone soft yet carrying a weight that made Isabelle’s heart flutter with apprehension. But then, his eyes, which had just moments ago danced with playful warmth, now turned solemn as he continued, "I need to talk to you about something important. Quickly dress up and come outside...I’ll be waiting for you."

Without another word, he turned and strode away, leaving behind an echo of quiet authority.

For a long, disoriented moment, Isabelle simply stared after him, her mind still reeling from the sudden shift. Then the reality of his command pulled her from her daze. With a startled exclamation, she rose to her feet and hurriedly began searching for her dress.

To her astonishment, arranged neatly on a nearby chair was a set of maid’s clothes—impeccably pressed and tailored. The soft fabric, carefully chosen and cut, spoke of a familiarity with her form that sent a blush racing up her cheeks.

As she picked up the garment, a myriad of questions raced through her mind.

’How had her master known her size so perfectly?’

The thought made her ears grow warm with a mixture of embarrassment and a secret thrill, for she recalled the gentle, deliberate way his hands had traced every curve of her body not long ago.

With trembling fingers, Isabelle slipped into the dress. The fabric hugged her contours exquisitely, as if it had been designed solely for her.

As she fastened the bodice, she couldn’t help but wonder aloud in a soft, incredulous murmur, "He must have measured me… all of me." The notion made her blush even deeper, but it also filled her with an odd sense of comfort.

It was as if Cassius cared for every detail of her, however intimate that might be.

Once dressed, she padded softly toward the door. Along the corridor, the dim glow of lantern light revealed a surreal sight: scattered throughout the room were the rest of the maids, each lying on sofas, wrapped only in thin blankets.

Their expressions were peaceful and contented, a silent chorus of satisfied slumber. The sight stirred a bittersweet mix of emotions within Isabelle.

On one hand, she felt a pang of longing and regret at not having witnessed the full extent of Cassius’s prowess—a secret performance of passion that had apparently left every one of them utterly spent.

On the other, she marveled at the raw power it implied, a testament to the beastly intensity of her master’s capabilities.

As she moved down the hall, her eyes caught sight of the head maid—her mentor and the woman who had taught her so much when she first joined the household.

The head maid lay in quiet repose on a chair, her gentle features softened by sleep.

Isabelle offered her a small, respectful nod. The head maid responded with a knowing smile, one that conveyed silent reassurance.

In that simple exchange, Isabelle’s heart eased a little; she was glad to know that someone she admired so dearly was safe and content, untouched by the night’s turbulent events.

And with a final glance back at the quiet, slumbering maids of the banquet hall, Isabelle stepped out into the corridor beyond, ready to face whatever conversation—or challenge—her master had prepared for her outside.

Stepping into the cool night air, Isabelle felt a gentle breeze brush against her cheeks, carrying with it the faint scent of dewy grass and distant blossoms.

Immediately, her eyes were drawn to the silhouette of her young master. He stood just beyond the doorway, head tilted skyward, his posture serene as he gazed at the myriad stars shimmering overhead.

Something about that scene—his almost dreamy stance against the canvas of the night—momentarily stole her breath. She found herself wanting to linger, to imprint the sight in her memory before reality beckoned.

Still, she was a maid, and she had her duties. Gathering her resolve, Isabelle quietly approached from behind, intending to announce her arrival with a polite clearing of her throat. But before she could speak, Cassius’s voice broke the silence in a soft, reminiscent tone.

"You know, Isabelle, when I was a child..." He began, not turning to face her. "I used to dream of touching those stars out there. It seemed like they were always watching me from so far away…and I was tired of only being the one gazing upward." A nostalgic smile laced his words, audible even if she couldn’t see it on his face. "I thought, wouldn’t it be grand to do the opposite? To sit on a star while gazing back at the world below?"

Isabelle, caught off guard by his admission, couldn’t stop the giggle that tumbled from her lips. It was a joyful, light sound, prompted as much by his whimsical vision as by her relief at finding this vulnerable side of him so enchanting.

Cassius’s eyes remained on the stars, but his tone shifted, laced with amusement. "Hmm. You find my dream silly?"

She instantly shook her head, though he wasn’t looking at her. "No, Master." She replied gently. "I find it rather cute."

He exhaled a small huff of laughter, and despite the darkness, she could imagine him quirking a brow at her.

"Cute, huh?" He echoed, shaking his head as though amused at her choice of words. "Well then since your teasing me about my last dream, let’s hear something about your dreams, Isabelle."

"...You’ve heard some of mine. It’s only fair I get to hear yours."

Her heart skipped a beat at the question. Isabelle had never confided her aspirations to anyone in the household, except the head maid who had mentored her. Her cheeks warmed, and she hesitated, glancing at the back of his head as he continued to watch the stars.

But, finally, she swallowed her nerves.

It was just him, she reminded herself. He’d seen sides of her she’d never shown another soul. If she couldn’t share her dream with him, then who could she share it with?

"I…Well." She began awkwardly. "It’s not as grand as sitting on a star. Actually, it’s a bit embarrassing to say out loud. But since you asked…" She took a breath and pressed on, her voice growing steadier with each word.

"I wanted to open a restaurant."

Cassius turned his head just enough for her to glimpse a raised eyebrow. "A restaurant?"

Her cheeks felt hot, but she nodded, spurred on by her own resolve. "Not just any restaurant, though. I want to create a place that serves the kind of dishes only nobles normally eat…but to common people."