Chapter 332: He’s Drunk

Isolde downed her drink in one go and asked, “Is there more?”

Hattie chuckled. “Where would there be more? Miniro said this was the General’s bowl. He secretly had Miniro bring it over to you.”

Hearing that Oliver had asked Miniro to send it, Isolde felt an unexpected warmth spreading in her chest. She asked, “Ask Miniro, did he drink a lot?”

“Miniro said he drank quite a bit. A lot of people kept forcing drinks on him, but luckily, a few of the Garretts shielded him from a good amount. Otherwise, he’d be completely wasted by now.”

Isolde laughed. “Good thing we had both families host the banquet together. At least we have people to protect us.”

Her cousins’ return proved incredibly useful. Without them, relying solely on the North Camp soldiers and the Southern Watch’s arrangements wouldn’t have been enough to fend off all those noble lords and ministers forcing drinks on Oliver.

“Exactly! Who in the Valen family would shield the Grand General from drinking? They all just poured him more!” Hattie scoffed.

Drinking etiquette had its nuances, especially on such a joyous occasion. The guests, caught up in the celebration, would naturally press drinks on the groom. It was different from family—family would protect him. And so, those members of the Valen family who had always claimed to treat Oliver like their own kin suddenly revealed their true, distant attitudes.

After finishing a bowl of broth, Isolde felt much steadier. Sadie joined her, chatting to pass the time.

“Tired?” Sadie asked, smiling as she sat in front of her.

“Tired, definitely. Mostly because there are just too many complicated rituals,” Isolde sighed.

“A little complexity is fine, as long as you get what you want in the end,” Sadie said, always sounding wise beyond her years.

Isolde chuckled. “You’re next.”

Sadie smiled faintly. “Yes, I’m looking forward to it.”

Isolde laughed. “If others heard you, they’d say the princess is desperate to get married.”

“If I’m marrying the man I love, then let them talk,” Sadie said, unfazed.

“Well said.” Isolde genuinely admired her attitude.

Sadie then changed the subject. “Martha is marrying William.”

Isolde raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

“Mm-hmm. I was wandering around, bored, and stumbled upon something interesting. William really is…”

“Is that so?” Isolde didn’t care much. In fact, just hearing William’s name right now soured her mood.

“Give me your hand. I should check your pulse.” Sadie suddenly remembered the real reason she had come.

“I’ve been fine lately. Just tired today,” Isolde said, stretching out her hand for Sadie to check.

After a moment, Sadie sighed. “With that fragile body of yours, it’s a miracle you’ve survived so many wounds and battles. Your energy and blood are weak. After the wedding, you’ll need to properly nourish yourself, or else… having children might be difficult.”

“Give me a prescription, and I’ll slowly recover,” Isolde didn’t think much of the first part, but the last words made her take it seriously.

Sadie smiled. “I’ll give it to Esme so she can prepare it for you.”

She then pulled out a small sachet and handed it to Isolde. “Here, you’ll need this tonight.”

Isolde took it, opened it, and found a fish bladder inside, tied shut with a string. When she picked it up, she noticed a small pouch of blood inside.

“Blood? Fish blood?” Isolde asked in surprise.

Sadie smirked. “You do realize where you’re marrying into, right? The Valen family will definitely have someone check for ‘proof’ tomorrow.”

Isolde put the sachet aside. “I don’t need it. Let them check if they want.”

Sadie chuckled. “Take it. You might actually need it.”

Isolde frowned. “Do you think I’m not…?”

“You are. But you might not be able to consummate the marriage tonight.” Sadie’s tone was cryptic.

Isolde wanted to ask why but felt too awkward—especially discussing such matters with an unmarried girl.

“Allan is someone who strictly follows rules and customs. If there’s no blood tomorrow, well…”

Isolde tossed the sachet aside. “I really don’t need it.”

Sadie shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

“Wait…” Isolde narrowed her eyes at her. “Where exactly did you get this blood? Don’t tell me it’s from the Bourbon family?”

“The Valen family killed plenty of fish today for the banquet. One trip to the kitchen was all it took.”

Isolde met Sadie’s knowing gaze and suddenly understood. Tonight, someone was definitely going to try and interfere.

She was speechless. If they wanted to cause trouble, couldn’t they have done it a few days ago when she had time to deal with it? Tonight was really the worst possible timing—for everyone involved.

“I’m off. The feast is winding down, and Oliver should be back soon. Don’t worry, I mixed a special powder in with the fish blood. It won’t coagulate before use, and no one will be able to tell what it is.” Sadie lazily got up and left.

Isolde glanced at the sachet, wondering what exactly was going to happen tonight.

Sure enough, Oliver returned just before midnight. He reeked of alcohol, barely standing as Miniro and Keth helped him into the bridal chamber. Isolde had already dismissed the attendants, letting Esme rest after her exhausting day. Only Hattie and Hazel remained to assist her.

Seeing Oliver stumbling in, completely drunk, Hattie sighed. “How much did he drink? He’s absolutely wasted.”

Keith and Miniro, knowing they weren’t supposed to linger in the bridal chamber, quickly excused themselves.

Oliver plopped into a chair, waving his hand with exaggerated seriousness. “It’s fine. Not too drunk. Won’t interfere with important matters.”

The room burst into laughter. Isolde blushed and sent Hazel to fetch hot water.

Once the water was ready, Isolde soaked a towel in it, wrung it out, and pressed it against Oliver’s face while it was still steaming.

Oliver remained perfectly still, sitting up straight like a soldier.

“Too hot?” Isolde asked.

No answer.

She pulled the towel away and saw his eyes were shut—he had actually fallen asleep.

She sighed, half-amused, half-exasperated. “Asleep? Don’t sleep yet. Drink some water first, or you’ll have a terrible headache tomorrow.”

Oliver’s eyes snapped open. He forced them wide. “It’s fine. Can drink. Won’t interfere with important matters.”

He grabbed the bowl of hangover soup, but his movements were too abrupt, spilling some. Grinning, he turned to Isolde. “Here, cheers.”

Then, like he was drinking liquor, he gulped it all down in one go.

“Oh my God, that soup was just taken off the stove!” Hattie rushed forward, but he had already finished, even flipping the bowl upside down to show it was empty.

Isolde now understood why Sadie had brought the fish blood. She must have foreseen Oliver getting this drunk and figured Isolde would need a way to handle tomorrow’s examination.

“Forget it. Let’s just put him to bed.” Isolde sighed.

She had been waiting all day, hoping they could at least talk tonight—share their thoughts on the wedding. But he was completely out of it.