The Swordswoman’s Revenge Story after Rebirth

Chapter 106: Met Cristina +8 Pearls

Collin told the servant to make coffee. When the servant left, he saw a customer with several maids in the shop. Her clothing was luxurious; she wore a gilded red hairpin. Her face resembled a pink rose, but her eyes were cold and arrogant, bearing the air of a noble young lady.

Isolde recognized her: Cristina, Oliver’s former fiancée. Collin quickly approached. “My lady, what kind of silk do you desire?”

Cristina looked at Collin indifferently and remained silent. Her maid said coldly, “Show Miss Felton your finest taffeta.”

Collin smiled. “The new stock hasn’t arrived; only two pieces remain, Miss Felton. Please choose. If you dislike them, more will arrive tomorrow.” He displayed a silk on the table, leaving only two—a green and a red—both vibrant and beautiful.

Cristina frowned, dissatisfied. She spotted a scarlet silk in the corner and pointed. “What about this? Isn’t this taffeta?”

Collin replied, “It is taffeta, but a customer has already purchased it and will collect it later. He has paid.”

The maid insisted, “Miss Felton wants this. Tell the customer to buy it tomorrow.”

Collin smiled obsequiously. “Our shop conducts honest business. We cannot withhold goods after receiving payment. Miss Felton, perhaps you could return tomorrow if you dislike these two?”

“How dare you!” the maid shouted. “Do you know whom you’re addressing? You should deliver it to our door tomorrow, even if we cannot purchase it today!”

Cristina said lightly, “Why the trouble? I’ll take one of these. You can ask that customer to return tomorrow. Emily, give him the money.”

The maid took money from her purse and asked coldly, “How much?”

Collin apologized. “I’m sorry, someone else ordered this silk and has paid. I cannot give it to you, Miss Felton. If you don’t like these two, consider this silk chiffon; it’s from my personal collection. Miss Felton, if you…”

Cristina impatiently interrupted. “I want this one. Why all this talk? Let me speak to the shopkeeper.”

Isolde leaned against the counter, indifferent. “I am the shopkeeper, Miss Felton. This silk has been ordered. If you dislike our other silks, please patronize another shop.” She disliked Cristina for hurting Oliver; the thought filled her with disgust.

Cristina turned to Isolde, having only looked straight ahead upon entering. Though aware of a woman’s presence, she hadn’t noticed Isolde. Recognizing Isolde, a woman with a tarnished reputation, and recalling seeing her outside the day she broke off the engagement, Cristina curled her lips into a cold smile. “So it’s the currently popular County Princess of Cromwell. Did Doug open this shop for you? You’re so lucky to fool around with him and have his backing!”

The words “you’re so lucky to fool around with him” were dripping with sarcasm. Isolde knew Margaret had told Agnes about the banquet, and Agnes, in turn, had informed Cristina.

Clark, who had been silent, erupted. “Watch your tongue! Didn’t your parents teach you that rumors stop with the wise?”

Isolde was surprised by Clark’s anger; she’d never seen him so furious.

Cristina looked up at Clark. “What? Did I say something wrong? Why are you afraid of others repeating it if you dare do it? Without evidence, who would spread such a shameful thing? Didn’t Prudence hold a banquet to explain it? Stop pretending.”

“You… you’re talking nonsense!” Clark, not skilled at arguing, was enraged by Cristina’s slander of Isolde. In his view, a woman’s reputation was paramount.

“Nonsense? I’m afraid it’s true!” Cristina glanced coldly at Isolde. “Since this shop is yours, I don’t want this taffeta. It would soil my hands.” She left with her maids.

“Wait!” Isolde called out.

Cristina turned, cold. “What? Do you find my words unpleasant? Then don’t do anything shameless.”

Isolde stepped forward, smiling. “It’s human nature to judge others by oneself. Miss Felton, you have a dirty mind. I understand why you believe the rumors. As Clark said, rumors stop with the wise, but that doesn’t apply to you. You are not wise, but a foolish, lovestruck fool who overestimates herself. You’re infatuated with the Marquis of Greystone, Jonathan, and have always wanted to replace his wife, Rosemary. Regarding shamelessness, I’m no match for you!”

“You… are talking nonsense!” Cristina’s face darkened, secretly shocked. How could Isolde know her thoughts?

“Nonsense? I’m afraid it’s true, isn’t it?” Isolde sneered.

“You’re spouting nonsense! I won’t let you get away with this!” Cristina retorted.

Isolde said coldly, “What? You find my words unpleasant? Then don’t do anything shameless. You don’t like my silk, and I don’t want to sell it to someone like you. Get out!”

Cristina, enraged, lunged to slap Isolde, shouting, “Shut up!”

Isolde dodged; Cristina, using excessive force, lost her balance and fell.

The maids rushed to help her. Emily fumed. “How dare you hit Miss Felton?”

“Don’t talk nonsense. Miss Felton tried to hit me, but she fell. Everyone saw it,” Isolde said, pointing to several onlookers who had gathered outside, drawn by their loud argument.

Cristina trembled with rage, but before she could speak further, someone entered. Upon seeing who it was, Cristina’s face paled. She hastily greeted, “Marquis!”

It was Jonathan, Marquis of Greystone, with his wife, Rosemary, and a servant carrying items. Jonathan, tall and strong in a green suit, though middle-aged, remained handsome. He glanced indifferently at Cristina, seemingly unable to recall her. However, recognizing him, she asked, “Miss Felton, buying silk?”