Chapter 188: A Formal Greeting

48 Pearls

Doug stared in disbelief, his mind racing. She’s truly lost it. When did she start thinking like this? He snapped, “Don’t even think about it. Tomorrow, I’ll send you straight back to Argentum. If you go off looking for the King or Queen Mother, I swear, I’ll break your legs.”

He truly believed she had gone mad. But, even more unbelievable, just two days later, there he was, sitting beside Isolde in a carriage heading back to Argentum.

Over the last two days, Isolde had spent every night digging on the mountain, her fingers battered and bleeding by the end of each session. She wasn’t even using proper tools; when she found clothes or objects, she dug them out with her bare hands, terrified of damaging what was hidden inside. By the time she was done, Doug had realized something—this girl, who once claimed she didn’t want to marry Oliver, had secretly been in love with him all along. She had thought herself unworthy of him, believing that after returning from the estate, she didn’t deserve someone like him. Doug sighed inwardly. The more he thought about it, the more he understood. The feelings had always been there—hidden beneath that pride of hers.

During these two days, Doug had secretly investigated the Zloimond army. They were only a few thousand strong, and even counting the provincial troops, the total force didn’t exceed ten thousand. And those provincial soldiers? They were formidable, but not overwhelming by any means.

A few years back, when the Queen Mother was absent from Argentum, the Northern Desert and Thalvinar had repeatedly invaded. While it had only been small skirmishes, the King had been kept busy, gradually loosening his control over the regional lords. The result? Ambitious men like Kamari had seized the opportunity to expand their influence.

Kamari’s father had been the elder brother of the late King, entrusted with Zloimond’s territory. Kamari inherited that title, but his temperament was nothing like his father’s. While his father had been a kind and humble man, content with his position and grateful to the court for granting him Zloimond—a rich, fertile land with access to rivers and trade routes—Kamari, with wealth and power, had begun to nurture dangerous ambitions.

He now believed that Zloimond’s prosperity, bolstered by the monarchy, should make him King. This year, he had begun gathering soldiers, recruiting strategists, and inciting the populace by claiming the court was overtaxing them, further fueling discontent.

Doug snapped out of his thoughts when Isolde’s eyes fluttered open, her body shifting slightly. He asked, “Would you like something to eat?”

Isolde looked up, her eyes heavy with exhaustion. “I’m not hungry.”

Doug frowned, noticing how pale she looked. “You haven’t slept in two days, and you barely ate anything. Here, drink some water.” He handed her the flask.

Hattic, Hazel, and Vincenzo had stayed behind at the inn, following Isolde’s instructions to continue searching. Aside from the coachman and the two of them, no one else was accompanying them on the return to Argentum.

Isolde took the water and drank a few deep gulps before setting the flask aside. She rested her head on the soft pillow, trying to relax, but the fire in her eyes was still burning.

Doug sighed softly. “I didn’t know you cared for Oliver this much.”

Isolde remained silent for a moment, then spoke quietly, her voice low but firm. “Don’t worry. I’m fine. I won’t fall until the vengeance is done.”

Her resolve was unwavering. She would not stop until she avenged him. But her greatest concern was whether the King would actually send troops.

After a pause, she turned to Doug. “Do you think you could convince the King to send troops?”

Doug’s face tightened in thought. “It won’t be easy. Even if I manage to convince the King, there’s no way you’ll be allowed to go. So don’t get your hopes up.”

Isolde’s hands clenched beneath her long sleeves, her knuckles turning white. “Whether I go or not doesn’t matter. I’ll find a way to follow them. All I care about is getting Kamari’s head and reclaiming my wedding dress.”

Doug gave her a pointed look. “If the King sends troops, it’ll be Pablo or Harrison leading them. Both have the necessary authority and prestige for an internal conflict. Even if Pablo leads the army, you won’t be going. Understand?”

Isolde nodded quietly, her gaze never leaving him.

Doug looked at her, concern written all over his face. She wasn’t merely consumed by grief or rage—there was something else brewing inside her, something he couldn’t quite pin down. This child, whom he had watched grow up, now seemed like a stranger with plans of her own.

Midway through the journey, Isolde, frustrated with the slow pace of the carriage, insisted on switching to horseback when they stopped at an inn to feed the horses. Doug reluctantly agreed, and they rode on, with Isolde pushing the horse forward with determination.

Doug noticed that she had lost weight, her frame looking even smaller than before, but she still carried herself with the same commanding presence. When she cracked the whip and urged the horse on, it was as if she had transformed into a general, preparing for battle. He was momentarily stunned. Isolde has really grown up.

As they raced toward Argentum, they passed General Kolton on the road. Kolton didn’t recognize Doug, and Isolde, riding at full speed, only gave him a fleeting glance. Her exhaustion had changed her appearance so much that Kolton didn’t recognize her. And with her pale face and weariness, the resemblance to Prunella was also much less striking.

When they arrived in Argentum, they were greeted by the sight of white lanterns hanging at the entrance of the manor. Isolde thought for a moment that Prudence had passed away. But then, Ryker stepped out of the door, his face calm as ever, though a flicker of relief seemed to hide behind his expression.

“Isolde’s back?” he asked in a neutral tone.

Isolde studied him coolly. “Prudence is dead?”

Ryker shook his head. “No, it’s Priscilla.”

Isolde was surprised. Priscilla? She died so quickly?

As they walked inside, Ryker filled her in on the recent events—Harlan’s troubles, Prudence’s confession, her stroke, and the conflict between Vance and Priscilla over the Sharp family dowry. He told her how Bryant had killed Priscilla in the end.

After hearing the story, Isolde’s eyes became icy, her rage simmering beneath the surface. She entered the Pearl Tower slowly, sitting down with a cup in hand, her gaze burning red as she asked, “Prudence said my mother was cut open to bring me into the world?”

Ryker nodded somberly. “Yes, Geoffrey never returned in time, so they buried Prunella hastily.”

Isolde’s chest tightened with pain. My mother went through the same torment that I did. She suffered just like I did; her life ripped apart by those who wanted to control us.

Her thoughts churned with fury. Not only did I suffer at Prudence’s hands, but my mother—before me—had also been torn apart by the same people.

She could feel the fire of vengeance raging within her. The pain, the grief, and the anger from Oliver’s death mixed together, threatening to consume her completely.

“Change my clothes,” she said coldly. “I’m going to Blesertin. Make sure Prudence is taken care of.”

Ryker hesitated. “Noelle and Britney aren’t here. I’ll call the other maids to help.”

Isolde turned her sharp gaze toward him. “No need. I’ll bathe in cold water. You go and find out what medicine my mother took when she was pregnant with me. Bring it to me, and brew it. And I want you to add one more thing to it.”

She raised her voice. “Leonis!”

At her call, Leonis darted in from outside, and she immediately pulled him into a tight hug, stroking his little head as she whispered, “Good boy. We’ll go out soon.”

Her resolve was clear—vengeance was coming. And she would stop at nothing to make sure that justice for her mother, and for Oliver, was finally served.