The Swordswoman’s Revenge Story after Rebirth

Chapter 301: Make Me a Consort

Oliver instantly sensed something was amiss. Dodging aside, he saw flames erupt before him—blinding, powerful flames that momentarily obscured his vision. He closed his eyes, enduring the discomfort as faint, fragmented sounds reached his ears.

Then, Ashley chuckled. “It’s fine. This is just a mechanism set up by the Rebel King. It won’t harm anyone.”

Oliver opened his eyes; the light had vanished. He opened the box and found some papers inside. He picked them up, unfolding them with a slight frown. “What’s this?”

Ashley leaned closer, her frustration evident. “Why isn’t it the letter? How did it turn into sacred scripture instead?”

Oliver looked disappointed. “It’s hidden so well, yet it turns out to be sacred scripture?”

“No, it was originally letters. I don’t know when they were swapped,” Ashley said, dazed and clearly disappointed.

Oliver asked, “Are you sure it was originally letters?”

“Absolutely. I saw it with my own eyes, and I saw him put them in,” Ashley sighed regretfully. “Now that the letters are gone, the Great Marshal probably won’t cooperate. Forget it; this must be my fate.”

She shook her head and left. Oliver watched her go, a cold smirk playing on his lips. He subtly raised his hand, and Hattie, dropping from the rooftop, swiftly followed Ashley.

The moment the flames flared, he’d clearly heard the sound of shifting paper. Isolde was right; Ashley was adept at sleight of hand.

After retrieving the letters, Ashley returned to her room. She quickly scanned them, confirming they were the correspondence between Kamari and the officials conspiring with him in Argentum. Her hands trembled slightly. This was a heaven-sent opportunity.

She had initially suggested saving these letters to keep those officials in check. However, a new worry surfaced as she stared at them: how to enter the palace. It wasn’t easy; without someone escorting her, access would be impossible. The Marquis of Eldermere and his wife would never take her.

Ashley hesitated, unsure about approaching the Marquis with the letters. It seemed impossible. She carefully weighed her options. If the King asked why she hadn't delivered them immediately, she'd have no plausible explanation.

She pondered for a long while, lightly tapping her fingers as she reviewed the names of the conspirators. An idea struck her. She selected one letter for each named official, carefully storing the rest. She changed her clothes and began dressing meticulously. She had many visits to make today.

Her first stop was Seamus Santiago, the Grand Scholar. A high-ranking third-rank court official, he was renowned for his profound literary knowledge and revered as a sage. Humble and upright, he governed with integrity and enjoyed the King's deep trust. His only notable hobby was a love of fine tea.

With a canister of the finest tea leaves, Ashley set off to visit him. Upon hearing of Ashley's visit, Seamus paused before instructing someone to invite her in. As she entered, he greeted her with a respectful gesture. “This humble official greets Your Highness.”

Ashley smiled slightly. “Mr. Santiago, it has been a long time. You look even more spirited than before.”

Seamus’s gaze remained calm. “I do not recall ever meeting Your Highness.”

“Don’t you remember?” Ashley sat down leisurely, glancing at the nearby attendants. “Why not have them step outside so we can talk privately? I know you have a fondness for tea, so I brought you some of the finest leaves. We can enjoy a cup while we chat.”

Seamus, fifty years old with over twenty years of political experience, was wise and observant. He knew this visit was more than casual. With a dark expression, he dismissed the servants. He knew Ashley was not simple, but with Kamari dead and Ashley unrecognized in the palace, she held little power. He aimed to control the conversation, responding calmly, “Your Highness, it is an honor to receive you. I should give you a grand welcome, but I must soon leave for the palace for my duties. If I do not host you properly, I will make it up to you another day.”

It was a polite dismissal.

Ashley smiled, sitting with poise and grace. “Mr. Santiago, I have nothing urgent today, so I won’t take much of your time. I only have a letter for you to read.”

She produced the letter and placed it on the table. Seamus glanced at it; the distance was short, and he clearly saw the words on the envelope: “Respectfully, King Kamari.” The handwriting was instantly familiar.

With a jolt, Seamus stood and snatched the letter, tearing it to pieces. He looked at Ashley angrily. “You dare threaten me? Never!”

Ashley smiled demurely. “Feel free to tear it up, Mr. Santiago. The envelope is yours, but I copied the contents. I still have the original.” She produced another letter from her sleeve. “Even if I let you keep this one, I wouldn’t worry. Tell me, Mr. Santiago, how many letters did you send to King Kamari? Do you even remember?”

Seamus’s eyes burned with rage; his face, twisted in anger, lacked its usual scholarly dignity. Kamari had assured him every letter would be destroyed; unexpectedly, he had secretly kept one.

Ashley noticed the fear and shock on Seamus’s face and smiled, glancing around the simple, unadorned hall. “For someone who received so much silver from the prince, you live such a humble life, untouched by greed. Your willpower is truly admirable!” Her words dripped with mockery.

Murderous intent flickered in Seamus’s eyes.

Ashley smiled. “Mr. Santiago, if I don’t walk out of your residence today, the rest of the letters will go straight to the King. As someone who serves His Majesty, you should know what kind of people he despises most right now.”

She lowered her voice, her smile laced with malice. “I wonder… does the thought of your entire family being executed frighten you?”

“You…” Seamus trembled with rage, but deep down, fear gripped his heart. Since Kamari’s death at Isolde’s hands, he’d lived in fear. But time had passed, and with no list of conspirators given to the King, he'd felt a growing sense of ease.

He took a deep breath. Since Ashley hadn't handed over the letters yet, she must have another plan.

“Tell me why you’re here!” Seamus asked coldly.

Ashley understood and smiled. “Sir, I was once in the same boat as you. At that time, we were bound together for good or ill. Now, it hasn’t changed. I’ve entered the palace as a concubine. If you can help me, you can live a rich life without worry. You might even have a chance to advance.”

Seamus knew dealing with her was as dangerous as bargaining with a tiger, but he had no other choice.

“What do you want me to do?”

“It’s simple,” Ashley replied. “Tomorrow, several officials will accompany you to present a petition claiming that I killed the Rebel King, saved the empire, and requesting His Majesty grant me the title of Consort.”