Her Majestic Battle Cry 1159
Posted on March 15, 2025 · 1 mins read
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Chapter 1159

Isaac and Violet walked side-by-side along the wide street, leading their horses. The gentle night breeze carried away the lingering scent of the evening's alcohol.

“I was impulsive tonight,” Violet admitted, a hint of regret in her voice. “I shouldn’t have brought you there.”

“It’s fine,” Isaac replied.

“What’s on your mind? Are you planning to acknowledge them?”

“No.” Isaac smiled, his expression visibly relaxing. “She invited Madam Zoey and me inside, and we talked for a long time. But she never once asked how I’d been these years. Never once inquired about my well-being after being taken away. She only explained and attempted to clear her name.”

“Is that so?”

Isaac ran a hand through his slightly disheveled hair, his carefree demeanor returning.

“I remember my first time leaving the mountain. I was gone a month, and when I returned, Sage Adrian and Sage Everett surrounded me. They bombarded me with questions—what I ate, who I met, where I stayed, if I’d been in any fights, if anyone cheated me, what sights I saw, and so on.”

“My mentor’s the same,” Violet nodded. “That’s normal.”

“Exactly,” Isaac chuckled. “I’ve been surrounded by love since childhood. I’ve always had a family.”

Violet wasn't sure how Isaac truly felt, but he seemed at peace. “So, you’ve made peace with it?”

Isaac nodded, a faint smile playing on his lips. “Made peace? Yes, I suppose so. It’s not all good, but it’s not all bad either. No need for reconciliation, but no reason for hatred either.”

He should perhaps be moved by Evelyn avenging his death by killing David, but he wasn’t. He didn’t have children, but if he did, and their lives were threatened, he would do anything to protect them. Even send them far away to places where so-called priests offered protection, going with them himself. And if he couldn’t, he'd ensure someone trustworthy went in his stead.

Yet, Evelyn hadn’t done any of that.

Perhaps he’d seen too much, but Isaac finally understood. Caspian’s embrace had moved him, but Evelyn’s story clarified everything. Her maternal love, he realized, had always served her own comfort, never truly guiding or protecting her child.

She mentioned David seeking medical help for him, meaning she knew about the changing medication. Did she never question it? Constantly changing his medicine—how could that be reasonable? She was his caretaker. How could she not see?

He didn’t want to assume the worst, but if he allowed himself to, he’d suspect she quietly condoned David’s actions. Unfortunately, everything unraveled when Vincent named his heir, dashing Evelyn’s hopes of becoming a countess, and only then did she begin to pity her son.

Of course, he could never confirm this, but it didn’t matter. True or not, it was irrelevant. Fate had sealed their story with the fire.

Before knowing the truth, he’d clung to Adrian’s narrative, harboring doubt and hope. Now, free of that burden, he felt light.

Back in her room, Zoey couldn’t shake Evelyn’s bitter recounting of poisoning David. The cruelty lingered in Evelyn’s voice, as if years of buried hatred had finally found release.

If Evelyn’s words were true—that she poisoned David to avenge her son’s death—she would have glossed over the details, a passing, bitter remark. Not this repeated, deliberate emphasis.

It felt as if Evelyn was saying it for Isaac to hear, or perhaps for herself—as if repeating it would somehow ease her guilt.

Zoey found herself returning to Evelyn’s room. The older woman hadn’t slept. Her eyes were wide open, tears streaming down her face.

Zoey sat beside the bed and asked gently, “Mother, you didn’t poison Father, did you? You only thought about it. Perhaps you even obsessed over it—but you didn’t actually do it, right?”

Evelyn didn’t answer, but her tears flowed more freely. Her lips trembled, but she remained silent.

Zoey knew she was right.

After a long silence, Evelyn finally spoke. “Give him compensation. Do whatever you can to make amends. Whatever he wants, give it to him.”

“I will,” Zoey replied softly.

As she rose to leave, the muffled sobs behind her intensified, interwoven with Evelyn’s regretful murmurs.

“No matter what, husband and wife share the same rise and fall…the same honor and ruin…”

Zoey paused at the door, clenching her fists. Exhaustion washed over her, the weight of everything pressing down.

Husband and wife share the same rise and fall? Did this mean Evelyn had known everything from the start?

If so, she wasn’t innocent at all.

At that moment, Zoey understood whom Viola truly resembled—they were alike, both masters of self-deception.


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