Chapter 347: A Farce

Agnes had been holding back for too long, but hearing Cristina’s arrogance finally pushed her past her limit. At worst, she would be divorced—why should she endure their humiliations any longer? Instead of kneeling, she rose to her feet and strode toward Cristina, fixing her with an unflinching glare.

“What? Am I wrong?” Cristina sneered, unfazed. Agnes had always been outwardly deferential to her, no matter how insincere. Without another word, Agnes slapped her across the face.

Cristina was stunned. For a moment, her mind went blank. By the time she registered what had happened, Madilyn had already rushed forward, yanking Agnes away. “Are you insane? You’re the one who did wrong, and now you’re hitting my daughter? Fine! We don’t need a daughter-in-law like you. Pack your things, and get out!”

Agnes looked at Madilyn’s contorted expression and thought of how she had swallowed her pride for years, spent her own dowry to support their household, only to be discarded like trash. The rage in her heart surged, burning away the last of her patience. She let out a cold laugh. “Fine! Write the divorce letter. Once it’s done, I won’t even bother packing—I’ll have the house servants gather everything that belongs to me. Everything.”

Madilyn, taken aback by her defiance, snapped, “You dare defy me?”

“Defy?” Agnes sneered. “I am a daughter of the Valen family. I married beneath my station, yet I managed this household, served you, and even sacrificed my dowry to aid my husband’s career. And how have you treated me? You think I’m someone you can just cast aside when it suits you?”

“How dare you speak to my mother like that? I—”

“You what?” Agnes stepped closer, her breath hot against Cristina’s face. “Do you still think you’re some noble lady? You set your sights on Johnathan, only to be crushed by Rosemary. You ended up as Oliver’s concubine, and now you resent your fate. You wouldn’t even commit to your own schemes! You wanted to fake a suicide, but when the time came, you were too afraid to die. You dream of a better life but refuse to pay the price. If you hadn’t been so foolish—if you hadn’t provoked Rosemary—you wouldn’t be in this mess now!”

“You—” Cristina’s face burned with humiliation. At the word “foolish,” she lost all restraint and lunged at Agnes. But she had barely recovered from the poisoning—she was no match. Agnes struck her again, sending her reeling to the ground.

Madilyn could not stand by as her daughter was beaten. She rushed in to intervene. Agnes, though sharp-tongued, dared not hit her mother-in-law and ended up taking several slaps herself. Margaret’s servants, seeing the brawl escalate, stepped in to separate them. However, in the chaos, they also took the opportunity to land a few blows on Madilyn. The entire scene devolved into mayhem.

August refused to engage with the quarreling women and simply waited outside. Arthur arrived to find utter disorder. His face darkened as he strode in and bellowed, “Enough! Stop this madness!”

Cristina, seeing her brother, ran to him, sobbing. “Arthur! She hit me!”

Arthur took in her swollen face, his anger flaring. But then he glanced at Agnes—her face was also red and bruised, her hair disheveled, her voice trembling with emotion. He hesitated. Pablo’s earlier words echoed in his mind, dousing his fury.

“Is this still not enough? Go home,” he said coldly.

Madilyn, consumed with rage, snapped, “Arthur, you cannot keep this woman! Divorce her!”

Agnes’s heart turned to ice. She met her husband’s gaze and said steadily, “Then write the letter.”

Arthur looked at her—her red-rimmed eyes, her streaked cheeks, her quivering lips. Despite her calm words, her voice carried a raw vulnerability. He exhaled slowly. “No divorce. Let’s go home.”

Agnes was stunned. Then, she covered her face and began to weep. Madilyn, equally shocked, turned livid. “You would disobey me?”

Arthur rubbed his temple in frustration. “Mother, enough. The more we drag this out, the more disgraceful it becomes. Do you really want this scandal to spread?”

“You—” Madilyn’s fury was so intense she nearly fainted. Arthur turned to the servants. “Escort Lady Agnes home.”

Today had been nothing short of a disaster. Agnes, her defiance drained, followed behind Arthur, subdued. The onlookers remained silent as they left. Finally, the Valen household regained its peace.

Outside, before getting into the carriage, August pulled Arthur aside. “What did Pablo say to you?”

Arthur, knowing his father was no fool, admitted, “Pablo told me now is not the time for a divorce.”

August nodded. “He’s right.”

Arthur sighed. “Divorcing her would be trouble. Keeping her is also trouble. It’s frustrating.”

“Then distance yourself. Don’t give her any more power than necessary,” August advised.

Arthur nodded, but resentment stirred within him. He had never planned to divorce Agnes, but Pablo’s words had left a bitter taste in his mouth. Yes, his career had been stagnant this past year. But it wasn’t for lack of ability. The right opportunities simply hadn’t come his way. And now Pablo was bluntly reminding him that without powerful backing, he could easily be replaced. It wasn’t even a warning—it was an order. The realization left him cold. And then there was Agnes—her disgraceful behavior today only deepened his irritation.

Margaret, on the other hand, was fuming. From the moment Cristina had claimed she was poisoned, Margaret had known the culprit had to be Agnes. She had just reprimanded her the night before, yet the girl had learned nothing. And then, in the hall earlier, Madilyn had the audacity to suggest buying off Cristina with money, as if the Valen family were some common merchants to be bargained with. The sheer gall of it infuriated her.

“Let it go, my lady. The Felton family has left. There’s no point in being angry over them,” a maid soothed.

Margaret’s voice was low. “I’m not angry at them. I’m angry at Heidi for being so disappointing.”

“Lady Agnes acted recklessly. Best not to dwell on it—don’t let them ruin your health.”

“Did that shrew say anything after I left?” Margaret asked.

The maid hesitated before answering, “She kept demanding a divorce. My lady, weren’t you worried that the Feltons might actually go through with it?”

Margaret’s expression was unreadable. “Arthur is not strong enough yet. He won’t divorce her unless he’s ready to stand on his own. But if he finds a stronger backer…then Agnes’s fate is sealed.”

The maid shuddered at the cold certainty in her mistress’s tone. The game was far from over.