The Swordswoman’s Revenge Story after Rebirth

Chapter 12: Bolster Your Standing

Isolde nodded absently. “Yes, five thousand thalers.”

It had been the same in her past. The King issued a decree, offering a reward of five thousand thalers for accurate information. Whoever provided the clues could claim the money. But by the eighth day, no one came forward to take the reward. Instead, they found the lifeless body of Lord Theodric.

Isolde hesitated. Should I tell Princess Aveline? If she stayed silent, events would repeat themselves: Lord Theodric would meet a violent end, and Princess Aveline would lose her mind. But if I speak up, will the Princess even believe me? And if she does, how could I explain how I knew? The truth would only bring trouble, trouble Isolde had no wish to face.

Frustrated, she rose to her feet. “Helena, come take a walk with me.”

Helena glanced up. “Hungry again, my lady?”

In the past, their outings were often for food. The bland vegetarian meals served in the Duke’s estate were never enough to satisfy Isolde. Now and then, she would sneak out to find something more filling.

“Yes!” Isolde didn’t bother to explain. She scooped up Leonis and headed for the door.

Once outside the Duke’s estate, they wandered until they came upon an elegant tavern and settled inside. Isolde rarely visited places like this. She preferred to grab something simple from a street vendor and return home. Taverns, on the other hand, were gathering places for young nobles pretending to be cultured. Common folk were there too, but they tended to sit in the courtyard, sipping plain white ale.

The Queen, in her time as regent, had ushered in an age of peace and prosperity. After driving out the barbarian hordes, she opened the realm to new ideas and encouraged the arts. Poetry, song, and painting flourished, and taverns like this became havens for aspiring poets and artists.

Today, the tavern buzzed with energy. The patrons were abuzz with talk of Lord Theodric’s disappearance.

At a neighboring table, a group of young nobles sat in richly tailored clothes. Two young ladies accompanied them, their manner refined and their dresses immaculate. Behind them, servants stood quietly, their expressions guarded. The group spoke freely, laughing and gesturing with abandon, oblivious to those around them.

“If you ask me,” one of the young men said, “Princess Aveline and her husband have brought this on themselves. They’ve made far too many enemies with their investigations. Surely, they’ve wronged someone along the way. Retribution was bound to come—though it’s a shame it fell on their son. I hear the Queen Mother cherished Lord Theodric.”

“True,” another agreed. “She doted on him as though he were her own. But why do you think she favors Princess Aveline so much? There are plenty of princesses in the realm, yet she lavishes attention on this one. And she’s not even of royal blood!”

A woman’s voice cut in, sharp and cool. “The Queen Mother herself didn’t come from noble stock.”

“Indeed,” another young lady added with a mocking smile. “They say she was meant to be sacrificed at the Late King’s funeral. But instead, he issued a decree sparing her life—and look where she is now.”

“I only hope Princess Aveline and Lord Garraway learn their lesson this time,” one of the men said with a scoff. “Always poking their noses into other people’s business. My father said Lord Garraway even questioned him recently. It’s outrageous! Everyone knows my father is above reproach.”

“Exactly,” another murmured, lowering his voice. “To be honest, I wouldn’t mind if Lord Theodric met a grim end. That might finally teach them some humility.”

Once the man finished speaking, he erupted into laughter, and the others joined in. Isolde gripped her goblet tightly, fury blazing in her chest. Whether the High Court of Parliament had misjudged or not was of little consequence: what truly disgusted her was the wickedness of these so-called noble gentlemen, who took delight in the misfortune of an innocent child barely five years old. How could their hearts be so cold? Hoping for a moment of peace, she had instead been overcome by rage.

“Let’s go,” Isolde said sharply, setting down her goblet and looking at Helena.

“Yes, my lady,” Helena murmured, quickly following her out.

In the yard, commoners gathered, deep in discussion. Their tone, however, was vastly different. As Isolde passed by, snippets of their words reached her ears. “If I find out who took the young lord, I’ll risk my life to bring him back!” “Lord Garraway is a rare good man, one of the few left.” “They say Princess Aveline is heartbroken. Poor woman.” “It’s no wonder. She fought so hard to have a child. If it were my boy… No, enough drinking! Let’s search for clues—there must be something we can do.”

Hearing this, Isolde sighed deeply as she walked out into the street. The worth of an official was plain to see from the voice of the people. Though Princess Aveline and Lord Garraway were scorned by the aristocracy, they were adored by the common folk.

Isolde Langley, she thought bitterly, you were killed by William in another life. But has your conscience died with you? Having known the anguish of losing a child herself, how can I now stand by while another mother endured the same torment?

“Helena,” she said suddenly, her voice firm, “we’re going to Princess Aveline’s manor.”

Helena blinked in surprise. “My lady, why the Princess’s manor?”

“Don’t ask. Just follow me,” Isolde replied without further explanation, striding forward. Helena hesitated only a moment before hurrying to catch up.

They had barely stepped onto the main street when two constables appeared before them. “Are you the daughter of Lord Langley?” one asked, scrutinizing her closely. Isolde recognized him—it was Lord Harmon from the High Court of Parliament.

“I am,” she replied evenly. “What is this about?”

Lord Harmon inclined his head. “My lady, we must ask you to accompany us to the court. Mary Byrd’s family has accused you of murder.” Mary Byrd was Mary, that housekeeper.

Helena turned pale and blurted out, “She poisoned my lady first! My mistress would never kill without reason. And Mary died from a dog attack—it has nothing to do with my lady!”

“Forgive me, my lady,” Lord Harmon said with practiced neutrality. “Since Mary’s family has appealed to the court, the matter must be investigated. However, if it is proven that Mary attempted to poison you first, the law is clear—it would be treason, and you would be exonerated.”

Isolde felt no fear of the court itself, but the timing was unfortunate. “Can this not wait until tomorrow? I have pressing matters to attend to.”

“I assure you, my lady, it will take no time at all,” Lord Harmon said, gesturing toward a waiting carriage. “Once the inquiry is concluded, you’ll be escorted back promptly. Your business will not be delayed.”

Isolde glanced at the carriage, its driver waiting patiently. Yet unease flickered in her mind. If Mary’s family had filed a complaint, wouldn’t the authorities have summoned me at home? Why stop me in the street? And how did they even know I was here?

She thought of Lord Schuman, a man renowned for his integrity and promoted by Lord Garraway himself. He was known for his impartiality and diligence. Surely there could be no foul play here. Perhaps this was all mere coincidence.

Turning to Helena, Isolde spoke quickly, “Go to inform my father. Tell him I’ve been summoned to the magistrate’s office.”

“Yes, my lady,” Helena said, visibly shaken. “I’ll go at once.”

Isolde watched her maid disappear into the crowd before turning back to Lord Harmon. “Shall we go now?”

“Please, my lady,” Lord Harmon said with measured courtesy, his voice steady yet resolute. Noticing her hesitation, he continued, “You have nothing to fear. The Queen Mother’s decree shields servants from undue chastisement, but treachery against one’s lord is another matter altogether. This is but a formal proceeding to uncover the truth—and in the end, it will only serve to bolster your standing.”

Isolde nodded, her arms tightening around Leonis. “Very well. Lead the way.”