Chapter 358: Are You Driving Her Away?

Cristina’s fury flared the moment she heard Arthur being berated. She stepped forward and snapped, “Isolde, mind your tongue! My brother is not someone you can insult at will. He is an official of the imperial court—your words amount to slandering a high-ranking official. Do you wish to be held accountable for such audacity?”

“Accountable?” Isolde’s gaze turned icy as she shifted her eyes to Arthur. “Does he even dare?”

Arthur’s expression darkened. “And why wouldn’t I dare?”

“Very well, go ahead. Report me. Tell His Majesty that I, a noble princess, insulted a mere third-rank official. Let’s see how he judges it,” Isolde said, her tone laced with mockery.

Arthur’s voice turned frigid. “So, you’re simply relying on your power to oppress others?”

“There’s no need to sugarcoat it. I’m not just relying on my power—I’m outright bullying her. And I intend to bully her to the very end.”

“She’s a woman just like you. Why must you make things difficult for her?” Arthur held back his anger.

“Because she is detestable. She is revolting.” Isolde’s disdainful gaze landed on Cristina. “But do you know what’s even more disgusting? You, Arthur.”

Her eyes moved deliberately, locking onto Arthur’s face.

His voice dropped into an icy register. “What exactly are you implying?”

Isolde leaned back into her seat, her expression relaxed yet sharp. “Let me ask you something—was Agnes insufferable?”

“You—this is my family’s private matter. It’s none of your concern,” Arthur replied sullenly.

“Ah, you can’t bring yourself to say it, can you? Or is it simply too difficult to admit?” Isolde’s lips curled into a smirk. “Of course, Agnes was insufferable. She used such extreme measures to help your sister gain favor. Even though you knew she did it for Cristina, you still despised her—saw her as scheming, manipulative, and insufferable, didn’t you? And yet, Cristina—she shamelessly pined for Jonathan…”

Cristina’s face twisted in fury at the mention of that name. “What’s wrong with me liking him?!”

“If you had merely admired him in secret, there would be nothing wrong with it. Even if you willingly became his concubine, it wouldn’t be a crime. But you spread malicious rumors about Rosemary, threw tantrums when things didn’t go your way, and when Jonathan made it clear he had no interest in you, you turned to Oliver and demanded he take you as his concubine. You expected the very people you trampled underfoot to now place you on a pedestal. And when they refused, you lashed out, cursing your grandmother as a widow-bringer and your grandfather as ill-fated.” Isolde’s voice sharpened as she turned to Arthur. “Tell me, Arthur, if Cristina weren’t your sister, wouldn’t you find her repulsive? Wouldn’t she be nauseating?”

I find Arthur was rendered speechless by her relentless accusations. He stood in stunned silence for a long moment before finally forcing out, “You’re lying. You’re slandering her. Cristina would never hurl such vile insults at our grandparents.”

Arthur turned to Cristina. She hesitated before murmuring, “I was just momentarily overwhelmed by anger. Should elders really hold such trivial matters against me?”

Isolde let out a cold chuckle. “And that is exactly what makes you so repugnant. Whenever you make a mistake, it’s never your fault—it’s always someone else’s. Your misdeeds are always excusable, and others must forgive you. But if someone else so much as stumbles, you seize onto it and refuse to let go until they’re utterly destroyed. Isn’t that exactly what you did to Agnes? She schemed for your sake, yet you forced your brother to cast her aside. Tell me, how is that not vile?”

“She is nothing compared to me!” Cristina snapped, unwilling to yield.

Isolde’s lips curled into a sneer. “Oh? And what, exactly, makes you superior to her?”

Cristina faltered, her resentment simmering as she glared at Isolde. “This has nothing to do with her! This is between you and me! Why drag her into it? You think she is my equal? And you? You grew up in an estate like a wild child—what right do you have to lecture me? What right do you have to order me around? Do you truly think you are above me?”

Instead of getting angry, Isolde laughed. She turned to Arthur. “Now do you understand why you’re the most revolting one of all?”

Arthur’s expression shifted. “Women being a little spoiled is hardly a crime.”

“In the safety of their family, with their father and brothers doting on them? Perhaps. But Cristina is Oliver’s concubine now, and yet she still dares to proclaim she is above me?” Isolde’s gaze hardened. “If we’re speaking of status, what does she have? I may have grown up in an estate, but my father is a marquis personally granted his title by the King. My mother is the legitimate daughter of a great general. My maternal family is old nobility, and my paternal family is rising power. And Cristina? Besides having a baron for a brother, what else does she have?”

Arthur was struck speechless, and Cristina found herself unable to refute.

Isolde continued, her tone relentless. “If we set aside status and speak of merit—what of her intellect? What of her martial skills? Has she ever written anything of renown? Has she ever achieved anything for the empire? And me? I led the charge against the Wolf Mountain bandits and rescued Lord Theodric. I commanded troops to quell the rebellion in Zloimond and stabilize the Eryndral Empire. Now tell me, Cristina, what have you done that compares?”

A heavy silence fell between them.

Even Heidi, who had been listening from the sidelines, was left astounded. She had never realized Isolde’s sharp wit and eloquence—how effortlessly she crushed her opponents, first through status, then through merit.

Arthur, it seemed, had run out of arguments.

But Isolde wasn’t finished.

“I’ve made myself clear. As long as Cristina remains in the Valen household, I will find ways to make her suffer. And I mean every word. Not out of jealousy—because, frankly, Oliver wouldn’t spare her a glance. I have no need to compete.”

Arthur’s voice dropped dangerously low. “Then why?”

“Normally, disputes between a concubine and a noblewoman would be handled discreetly, through mediation by both families, ensuring that neither side loses face. That is the proper way. But Cristina? She took the marriage contract all the way to the Southern Watch, humiliated Oliver, tore it apart in front of everyone, and then had the audacity to mock him as an unworthy military officer propped up by patronage. She disgraced him without ever drawing a blade. And for that, I will not let her go unpunished.”

Cristina scoffed. “How pathetic. Oliver must be truly weak if he needs you to fight his battles.”

Isolde’s smirk returned, but it was laced with something far more dangerous. “He has the grace to ignore your provocations. I do not. Go ask about me. See what happens to those who cross me in the Langley family. If you wish to stay, stay. But think carefully—because if you fail to understand my warning, I have ways to make you see it clearly.”

With that, Isolde slammed her palm against the coffee table. The table collapsed with a loud crash. Cups shattered upon impact, sending liquid splashing through the air, some landing on Cristina’s hand.

Though the coffee was cold, Cristina shrieked in panic, thinking it was shards of porcelain cutting her skin.

Arthur finally understood. She hadn’t summoned him just to argue. She was forcing him to take Cristina away. This entire spectacle—this relentless assault—was to drive Cristina out for good.

His mind raced. If Cristina left now, the world would hear that she had insulted her elders and was cast out in disgrace. But if she stayed, Isolde would make her life a living nightmare.

Arthur had seen through Isolde’s intentions. But at this moment, even he wasn’t sure what to do.