Chapter 24: Through Veiled Eyes

  'wait’

  Cassian’s hand stilled over his plate.

  Something didn’t add up.

  His thoughts churned, sifting through every conversation he’d had with Sky since stepping into this identity—every fleeting moment, every word exchanged.

  Cassian’s grip on his fork tightened, the cool metal pressing against his skin as the realization settled in.

  Sky wasn’t stupid. He was observant, sharp in ways a child shouldn’t be.

  Which meant—

  He knew.

  Cassian exhaled slowly, glancing at the boy across the table. Sky was still humming to himself, kicking his legs under his chair, completely at ease. Too at ease.

  Cassian had been careful. He had mimicked Cassian Starfall’s habits as best as he could, had adjusted his speech, his mannerisms, his expressions—he had studied the files, had dissected the monster’s thoughts, had buried his own doubts beneath the weight of the act.

  And yet—

  Sky still called him brother.

  Not a stranger.

  The air in the dining hall felt heavier, pressing against Cassian’s ribs like unseen hands.

  Did he know something Cassian didn’t?

  Cassian set his fork down, carefully schooling his expression.

  "Sky," he said evenly, "can I ask you something?"

  Sky paused mid-bite, blinking up at him. "Mm?"

  Cassian hesitated for only a second before pushing forward.

  "You know your real brother is… not here anymore, right?" His voice was soft, but firm, watching closely for any flicker of hesitation, any sign of distress.

  Sky didn’t react the way Cassian expected.

  Instead of looking confused, the boy simply tilted his head, as if Cassian had just stated something obvious.

  "Yeah," Sky said simply.

  Cassian’s chest tightened. "...Then why do you still call me brother? Back in that rundown house?"

  Sky chewed slowly, his little brows furrowing slightly in thought. Then, after swallowing, he met Cassian’s gaze and said,

  "Because you are."

  Cassian’s breath hitched.

  The boy’s voice was calm, unwavering, filled with a quiet certainty that sent an unsettling chill down Cassian’s spine.

  "...What?"

  Sky tilted his head, searching for the right words. “You’re not him. I know. But…” He poked at his food, not looking up.

  “You still are my brother.”

  Cassian stared at him, his mind struggling to wrap around the statement.

  'Is there something else at play? '

  A deep, sinking feeling curled inside Cassian’s stomach.

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  Sky felt different. He could sense things that no normal child should be able to.

  Could he sense him?

  Not Cassian Starfall. the psychopath

  But Cassian.

  Him.

  Cassian forced himself to lean back in his chair, his hands resting on his lap to keep them from curling into fists. He needed to be careful.

  —If he had always known—

  Then the boy had been playing along just as much as Cassian had.

  And that meant Cassian wasn’t the only one wearing a mask in this house.

  Silence stretched between them, broken only by the distant sound of Vera’s footsteps as she moved about the kitchen.

  Cassian exhaled slowly. "Sky…" His voice was low, careful. "What do you mean by that?"

  Sky hummed, taking another bite of his food before answering.

  "I mean, it doesn’t matter."

  Cassian stiffened.

  Sky’s voice was quiet but firm, his hands folding neatly over his lap.

  "You’re still my brother."

  Cassian felt something cold grip his chest.

  Was that trust? Devotion? Or something else?

  Sky smiled, soft and sure.

  "And I was sure that you won’t leave me."

  Cassian’s breath caught.

  He had heard that phrase before.

  In another life. In another moment.

  A long-buried memory stirred—hazy, half-formed, like a whisper in the dark.

  A child’s voice. A plea.

  'You won’t leave me, right?'

  Cassian’s vision blurred for a second. He clenched his fists beneath the table. Why… does it feel like I’ve heard those words before?

  His heartbeat was a steady, heavy thud against his ribs. His pulse roared in his ears.

  "Sky," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "Who… do you think I am?"

  Sky tilted his head, blinking those wide, knowing eyes.

  Then, with a small, innocent smile, he whispered back—

  "The same as before."

  Cassian’s world tilted.

  His breath came shallow. His fingers dug into his palms.

  The same as before.

  What… what did that mean?

  Had Sky known something all along?

  Had he always known?

  Cassian swallowed against the dryness in his throat. The boy was looking at him, waiting for a reaction, waiting to see if Cassian would push further.

  But Cassian couldn’t.

  Not yet.

  His heart pounded against his ribs as he forced himself to breathe.

  Sky had already said too much.

  Or maybe—

  Not enough.

  Cassian’s lips pressed into a thin line. He picked up his fork again, twirling it between his fingers before finally muttering,

  "Finish eating. It’s getting late."

  Sky beamed, as if nothing had happened, happily digging into his food again.

  Cassian didn’t eat.

  He had lost his appetite.

  Because now—

  He was sure of one thing.

  The real Cassian Starfall had left behind more than just his legacy.

  He had left behind a truth.

  Cassian’s thoughts were interrupted as the heavy doors of the dining hall creaked open, allowing a quiet gust of wind to stir the edges of the long velvet curtains. Malcolm stepped inside, his steps composed but his face tinged with urgency.

  “Young Master,” he began, pausing with a subtle bow, “ah… may I ask—have you finished your meal?”

  Cassian looked up at the untouched plate. His appetite had evaporated. He pushed it away, the sound of silver scraping porcelain echoing faintly in the hall.

  He rose, the mask of Cassian Starfall settling upon him. "What’s the hurry, Malcolm?" he said with a faint, sardonic smile. "Don’t tell me we’re under attack." He chuckled lightly, but the amusement didn’t reach his eyes.

  Malcolm’s face stiffened, though his voice remained even. "No, Young Master. It’s Aldric. He’s returned… earlier than we expected, and something’s… different about him."

  Cassian’s eyes narrowed. Aldric.

  A thought flickered—a memory of Sky’s voice, hesitant but firm: “There’s something off about him.” Sky never questioned lightly.

  Cassian’s fingers flexed at his side, the barely noticeable twitch betraying his composure. “Well then,” he murmured, the corner of his mouth lifting into a faint, unreadable smile. “Let’s go see what makes Aldric so… useful.”