Chapter 143: First Meeting +8 Pearls

Esme gently tapped Isolde's forehead three times. “It’s okay, go back to sleep,” she said.

Isolde chuckled softly. “I’m not a three-year-old.”

Esme smiled. “It’s an old custom. When you have nightmares, you tap your forehead to drive away the bad thoughts.”

Isolde had far too many thoughts swirling in her mind. In the days following her rebirth, she had always been strong, but the darkness of night weakened her.

“Would you like to know what nightmare I had?” she asked softly.

“Go ahead, tell me,” Esme replied.

Isolde shifted. “Lie down here, and I’ll tell you.”

Esme hesitated, then sat on the edge of the bed, leaning against the headboard. “Alright, but Nurse is here.”

In the dim light, Isolde’s face appeared ethereal, like a flower isolated from the world, her pain hidden deep in her eyes, a complexity no one could fully understand.

“I dreamed that I didn’t break off my engagement with William. I compromised, let Eleanor become his concubine, and married into the Valen family. At first, everything seemed perfect. I thought everyone treated me well. But the scheming began the moment I entered the family. I went with William to the battlefield, helping him build his legacy. Oliver died saving me, and Doug was ruined by Milton, dying tragically…”

Isolde’s voice was clear in the stillness of the night, her body trembling as she relived her past life. “My unborn child was cruelly ripped from me and thrown into a fire. I watched it happen, helpless; the pain was unbearable. I felt like I had no choice but to throw myself into the fire. I didn’t even know whether the child was a boy or a girl…”

Her voice hitched, sobs escaping her as her body shook. The events of her past life felt like they had happened yesterday, the pain raw, the barely suppressed hatred waiting to explode. The agony and ugliness made her feel as though she were in hell.

Esme placed her warm hand on Isolde’s forehead, steadying her. “It’s alright. It’s all in the past now. It was just a nightmare.” Esme’s voice was hoarse, as though she had been crying.

“Yeah… just a nightmare. Thankfully, it’s all over now,” Isolde closed her eyes slowly. Her limbs felt crushed, leaving her exhausted, but she also felt a sense of release. Speaking about it lightened the heavy burden in her heart. The hate and pain still lingered, but she was clearer-headed, more determined to know her next step. Confessing was better than endlessly ruminating.

The next day, news reached Normont Chamber that Nicole had survived her suicide attempt. Hearing that Isolde had called the doctor and saved Nicole, Michelle looked almost feral in her fury.

“Michelle, Mother thinks we should just let it go,” Matilda said, genuinely exhausted and unwilling to cause more trouble. She feared pressing further would cost her her life.

“Let it go?” Michelle clenched her fists, her eyes blazing. “She’s the reason I’m in this mess! She ruined my life, and now she’s still alive—how can I just let it go? If she doesn’t die, I won’t rest.”

“But what can you do?” Matilda sighed, worried.

Michelle took a deep breath, calming herself. “There’s always a way. We’ll find a way.”

Meanwhile, Vance had been busy for days. Isolde summoned Ryker to discuss finding someone.

Ryker responded, “We have some leads.”

“Good,” Isolde nodded, noticing Ryker’s deference. “If you do your job well, I won’t treat you poorly.”

“Yes,” Ryker replied, not daring to say more. He knew how ruthless Isolde could be. He had completely surrendered, not for promised rewards, but for the hope she wouldn’t revisit his past transgressions. He wanted to live, to protect his family.

After sending Ryker away, Esme entered, smiling. “Vance has been trying to use connections, spending a lot of money.”

“All of that is my mother’s money,” Isolde responded, wincing.

“Yes, it’s a pity. You can’t just throw money at the High Magistracy of Argentum and expect it to work. If anything, the charges might get worse,” Esme said, sitting down and sipping water. “By the way, Pablo came back today. The King himself went to the city gates to greet him. Quite a spectacle.”

Pablo was the only person Isolde had ever respected in the Valen family. He had treated her like a father would his daughter, though she had heard rumors about his infatuation with her mother, and even about Doug’s feelings for her.

“Is Father back yet?” Isolde asked, her heart stirring with curiosity.

“Not yet. It’s only noon,” Esme replied.

Isolde stood. “I’ll go to his study.”

“Why?” Esme asked, puzzled. “Going to read?”

“No, I need to find a painting,” Isolde said, excitement flickering in her eyes. This thought had lingered in her mind for a long time.

Geoffrey’s study was always unlocked during the day when he was away. Isolde pushed the door open and entered. The room was lined with bookshelves, and in front of the door stood a large, intricately carved wooden desk, almost as big as a bed. On the desk were the four treasures of the study, and beside them, a sword rack held a jade-handled sword.

She gently picked up the sword, noticing the inscription on the hilt: “To my husband, Geoffrey.”

Was it a gift from my mother? Isolde thought. Her fingers lingered on the words, and she felt a rush of emotion. Her eyes welled up. This was her mother’s gift.

She had always wanted something of her mother’s, which was why she insisted on reclaiming her dowry. She didn’t want to give her mother’s belongings to anyone else. More than that, she wanted to keep everything her mother had left in the world. She wanted to steal this sword, too, but it wasn’t the right time.

She moved to the back of the desk, where a drawer was locked. But such locks were no challenge for her. After a few attempts, she opened the drawer. Inside were several wooden boxes and a scroll.

Her fingers trembled as she reached for it. This was the first time she was seeing something her mother had left behind. Slowly, she unfurled the painting. Her mother’s image came into view—dark hair, a broad forehead, large smiling eyes with long, thick lashes.

As the scroll unrolled completely, Isolde was overcome with emotion. Her lips trembled, tears spilling down her face. Her mother was such a beautiful woman. She traced the delicate features with her fingers, laughing through her tears. “The first time we meet, my name is Isolde. I am your daughter.”