The Swordswoman's Revenge Story after Rebirth

The Swordswoman'’s Revenge Story after Rebirth

Chapter 30 The King

Finished

The High Court of Parliament and the Southern Watch were now working in close concert to investigate the

Shadowmere affair. Even the faintest lead, they knew, could expose a vast network of culprits.

She was curious. Would William and Eleanor’s hond prove strong enough to weather this storm?

On the third day, Harlan returned with a set of fine satin garments. The purple attire, though a touch old-

fashioned, fit Isolde perfectly and lent her an air of understated nobility. Geoffrey said nothing, merely instructing

her to change quickly.

Later, Geoffrey visited the Velvet Wing, where he opened Matilda's jewelry box. Selecting a delicate headdress,

he ordered it sent to the Pearl Tower.

Though it pained Matilda to part with such finery, after a few words of reassurance from Anne, she managed to

smile as she saw Geoffrey off.

Meanwhile, the Royal Court had conferred honors not only upon Isolde and Geoffrey, but also elevated Oliver to

Great Marshal of the Argentum.

In the Eryndral Empire, the highest military title was Grand Marshal, granted only in times of war. Beneath him

were seven Marshals, each commanding one of the major military regions.

Oliver's appointment as Marshal of Argentum meant he now held command over all the city’s forces.

It was, ostensibly, a reward for quelling mere bandits- fact that fueled suspicion. Whispers spread that the King

had ulterior motives.

Sbelieved this signaled the reemergence of the Southern Watch as a force in court politics.

Others claimed it was simply out of deference to Oliver's lineage-he was, after all, the son of the legendary

Marshal.

The rumors went unanswered by those involved. On this day, Oliver rode his prized horse steed to the palace to

give thanks, where he crossed paths with Geofrey at the East Gate.

Geoffrey, long hoping to ask about the incident at Wolf Mountain, greeted him warmly. “I'll invite you to my

estate soon-we’ve much to discuss.”

Oliver agreed, then turned his gaze to Isolde, his expression tightening. “Your wounds-why do they still look so

severe?”

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Isolde lowered her eyes. “I'm much better now, my lord”

Oliver glanced briefly at Geoffrey but said nothing more. As they entered the palace gates, he drew a small

porcelain vial from his sleeve and handed it to Isolde.

“This will help. Take one in the morning and one at night. You'll recover within days,” he said, his tone calm but

firm.

Surprised, Isolde accepted the bottle without thinking. Before she could utter her thanks, he had already strode

away.

The porcelain still held the warmth of his hand. Her fingers traced its smooth surface as tears welled in her

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She had never thought herself fragile, yet this simple kindness nearly unraveled her carefully rebuilt resolve.

Flow many people after all, have ever shownsuch care?

The King received them in the grandeur of the study. Kneeling on the cold, marbled floor, Isolde listened quietly

to the King’s commanding voice, which today carried an unexpected warmth-so unlike her memories of a

lifetago.

“Lady Isolde, raise your head. Letsee you,” the King said.

Isolde obeyed, lifting her gaze slowly, though she dared not meet the King’s eyes. Instead, her focus landed on

Oliver, standing by the King’s side. Their eyes met briefly before she looked away.

The King studied her with keen interest. “A woman's beauty comes in two forms: delicate grace or noble

strength. Duke Blackmoor, your daughter possesses both. She has your warrior’s spirit and her mother’s

gentleness-she surpasses even the fairest ladies of my court.”

Geoffrey was momentarily taken aback but quickly recovered. “Your Majesty is far too kind. My daughter is but a

humble girl, unworthy of such high praise.”

The King then turned to Isolde. “I hear you began training in sword fighting at a young age. Who was your

teacher?”

Isolde hesitated only a moment. “My lord, | trained under Master Orson.”

The King’s brows lifted, surprised. “Oh? Is that so?”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

Geoffrey, unfamiliar with the name, dismissed it as unimportant. Surely, he thought, if he had not heard. of this

master, the King would not know him either.

“Your Majesty,” Geoffrey interjected, “forgive me, but my daughter's skill amounts to little more than decorative

gestures. She knows nothing of refinement no music, no painting, no embroidery. The fault is mine for failing her

education.”

The King frowned. “You sell her short, Duke Blackmoor. If the Queen Mother were here, she would remind you

that a woman can rise to greatness, even on the battlefield. It is not a lack of ability but a lack of opportunity

that holds them back.”

When mention of the Queen Mother arose, Geoffrey saffened, his voice edged with unease. “Yes, Her Majesty is

most wise.”

The King’s lips curved into a faint smile. “Go now. | have matters yet to discuss with Oliver.”

Geoffrey and Isolde bowed and departed.

The lakeside breeze was soft, carrying with it the fresh tranquility of May. They walked silently along the

shoreline, their path led by Lord Vargas, the King’s trusted chamberlain.

After stime, Lord Vargas turned back to Isolde. “Lady Isolde, should you cross paths with Master Orson, be

so kind as to pass along my regards.”

Isolde gave a polite, knowing smile. “Of course, my lord.”

Geoffrey shot a suspicious glance. How does he know of Master Orson?

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In the carriage back to the estate, Geoffrey made several attempts to broach the subject with Isolde, but each

tthe words faltered on his lips.

It was a bitter truth: everyone else seemed to know the identity of Isolde’s mysterious master, while he, her

own father, remained in ignorance. The shof it kept him silent.

Isolde, however, was preoccupied with her own thoughts.

The King-wise and just-owed much to the Queen Mother's guidance in his early reign.

Yet recent events gnawed at her mind: she and Lord Theodric had been captured at Wolf Mountain, and both

their fathers-men of the High Court-were investigating corruption in Shadowmere. How could the King fail to see

the connection?

Even her father, slow to perceive such matters, had begun to understand the stakes.

This was precisely why she had kept Milton’s na secret.

She meant to drag him into a pit so deep, escape would be impossible.

Geoffrey and Isolde, both lost in their own musings, returned to the estate in silence,

Upon arrival, the gatekeeper stepped forward. “Your Grace, the Marchioness of Eldermere has sent her card. She

intends to visit tomorrow.”

Geoffrey's expression darkened. “What business could she possibly have? The engagement has already been

annulled. Send word that | am otherwise engaged tomorrow.”

The Valen family had wasted no tending the betrothal when scandal tainted Isolde. Their disloyalty had been

insult enough. And now, mere days after breaking the match, they dared to pay a visit? He knew their motives all

too well-his recent title of Grand Duke, Isolde’s title of County Princess, and the

realization that the grounds for the annulment were baseless. No doubt they were scrambling for excuses to

placate the Marquis.

But, he thought, | am no spineless fool to be toyed with by dinner-chamber lady. The engagement is over, and so

it

shall remain.

He glanced at Isolde, intending to reassure her that she had his unwavering support.

But Isolde, head bowed, walked past him as though she had not heard a word. His temper flared, though he

could find no outlet for his frustration.

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