Chapter 315: She Would Be a Dog Too

Martha felt as though Ashley had knocked the air from her lungs. A lifetime as a concubine? That was not a fate she was willing to accept.

“If I go and say it… what will you do?” Martha asked.

Ashley replied smoothly, “You don’t need to worry about that. I have my ways. Just say what I told you, and on Isolde’s wedding day, find a way to be there. It’s up to you to take the gamble or let this opportunity slip away. This may be the best chance you’ll ever have.”

Martha looked at her and smiled, but her eyes were filled with seriousness. “You’re helping me… what do you get out of it?”

Ashley’s lips curled in an almost amused smirk. “The Valen family is, after all, my in-laws now. If you become its mistress, tell me—would that not be beneficial to me?”

Martha immediately understood. Ashley wanted her to stand against Isolde, to fight for the position of the Valen family’s mistress. If she succeeded, she would be an asset to Ashley within the palace.

“If this plan succeeds, I will never forget your kindness today,” Martha vowed.

Ashley merely smiled. Cultivating someone like Martha was a necessary move. She couldn’t afford to be isolated once inside the palace—she needed allies. Even if Martha only had a small amount of cunning, with the right guidance, she could be useful.

And when she was no longer useful? Then she would be discarded.

Martha left Ashley’s residence and inquired with the servants, “Where is William? Clark asked me to deliver something to him.”

“He’s in his quarters. Follow me,” a servant answered, leading the way.

Martha took a deep breath and followed, step by step. Before leaving Ashley’s chambers, she had carefully adjusted her attire and hair, but no matter how she fixed herself up, her dress remained a simple, slightly worn green satin gown, and her cloak was one from last year.

The servant led her to William’s courtyard and asked her to wait while he went inside to inform him.

William emerged, standing on the stone steps. Dressed in a brocade robe with a golden jade crown, he looked every bit the noble young lord. And she? A disgraced orphan with no status or backing.

Martha clenched her sleeves, a wave of despondency washing over her. Yet, it was precisely this sorrow that gave her the resolve to throw caution to the wind. It added a hint of tragic beauty to her features.

“And you are?” William asked, his tone indifferent. The girl before him seemed vaguely familiar, but he had no real impression of her. When the servant had mentioned a ‘Martha’ and her brother, he had assumed it was one of the noble…

Out of courtesy, he had come out to meet her rather than summon her inside. After all, it was improper for a man to receive an unfamiliar woman indoors. As he studied her, he noticed a hint of sadness in her expression.

“Mr. Valen, I am Martha.” She curtsied with practiced grace.

William’s face immediately darkened. Isolde’s sister.

“Why are you here?” he asked bluntly.

Martha gazed at him, her heart pounding. She had come with an agenda, but somewhere along the way, she had truly fallen for him. William embodied everything she had ever wanted in a husband. She had to marry him.

With this certainty, she took a sudden step forward, a faint flush rising to her cheeks. “That day, when I glimpsed you for but a moment, I could not forget your grace. I know I am unworthy—I have never dared to hope for more. My life has been uncertain, my fate dictated by others. My elders have arranged a match for me, and I must obey. But if I did not tell you what was in my heart before that happens, I would regret it until my dying breath. Now that I’ve spoken, my heart is at peace. You needn’t feel burdened—someone like you must have countless admirers. But among them, I am surely the most shameless. Still, if I said nothing, I would regret it forever. I only wish for you to be well, to rise in rank, to marry a virtuous wife, and to live a smooth and peaceful life.”

By the end of her confession, tears shimmered in her eyes, her voice catching with emotion. Without waiting for a response, she turned and ran, her retreating figure tinged with sorrow and finality.

William stood frozen. He had not expected this. Not at all. He had once been reckless, defiant, even foolish. Back when his father had insisted he marry Isolde, he had rebelled. He had thrown himself into a relationship with Eleanor, even going so far as to risk ruining himself just to avoid his father’s demands. Back then, much of it had been out of defiance. Of course, Eleanor’s unwavering devotion had moved him as well.

But Martha’s words… they struck him differently. He knew Margaret had been seeking marriage proposals for him, but with his tarnished reputation, respectable families had turned away, while those beneath the Valen family’s status were deemed unworthy by his mother. Margaret never spoke of it directly, but every time she met with a matchmaker and returned with a pale, drained expression, he understood—he was being shunned. Then there had been that humiliating episode with Agnes, where he had been dragged before Isolde to make a fool of himself. His self-esteem had taken a severe blow.

And now, just when he felt utterly worthless, a girl had come to him—unabashedly, passionately, and with reckless sincerity. And she had shed a tear before she left. That single tear cut into him like a blade. She had been so delicate, yet so courageous.

William slowly turned back inside, lost in thought.

Meanwhile, his attendant, Julio, was in complete shock, his mouth agape in disbelief. “Did Lady Martha… did she understand what she just did? She claims to be engaged—if word of this gets out, how will she ever marry? She’s throwing away her reputation!”

William suddenly turned to him. “Julio, what do you think?”

Julio hesitated. “Lord William, Lady Martha is truly…” He had been about to say shameless, but seeing the expression on William’s face, he quickly changed his words. “She is incredibly bold.”

William’s gaze darkened. “Pity… she is not the one I want.”

Julio wisely held his tongue.

Martha, meanwhile, had fled the scene, her emotions in turmoil. She had not expected it to be this nerve-wracking. She had no idea what William thought of her now. She wanted to maintain her dignity, to ensure he didn’t look down on her. But dignity meant nothing if she ended up as a concubine. If she was to be with William, it was better to take the risk now.

For now, she could only pray that Ashley was trustworthy. She had no other options. Isolde and Clark would never help her. They would likely marry her off to some ordinary man just to be rid of her. And she couldn’t accept that. She would rather be a concubine in a noble house than the wife of some lowly official. She wasn’t built for hardship. She wasn’t like Nicole. Nicole was obedient, willing to be Isolde’s dog, and for that, Isolde would ensure she had a place in the world.

Martha let out a soft sigh. If Isolde had been willing to help me… perhaps I would have been her dog too. But she never even gave me the chance.