The Swordswoman’s Revenge Story After Rebirth

Chapter 383: Margaret’s Warning

After leaving the Ministry of Justice prison, Arthur made his way to the Valen estate. In the past, the Valen household welcomed him as an esteemed guest. But today, the servants avoided him, scurrying away without a greeting. No one announced his arrival.

Suppressing his rising anger, he reached the Sunset Chamber. “Arthur, how was it? Has Isolde been convicted?” Cristina’s eyes gleamed with excitement and bloodthirsty glee.

Arthur hesitated. Cristina, once the aloof, untouchable Ice Beauty of Argentur, was unrecognizable. Her face was gaunt, her eyes red-rimmed, her hair disheveled. A feverish glint in her gaze and a twisted smirk deepened the creases around her mouth; she embodied spite itself. She had changed, utterly and irrevocably. A chill crept up Arthur’s spine; he feared such absolute transformations.

“Well! Speak!” Cristina clutched his arm in anxious anticipation.

Arthur slowly nodded. “Yes. She has been taken down. She’s in the Ministry of Justice prison as we speak.”

Cristina exhaled deeply, her lips curling into a triumphant smile. “Good. Good. Finally, justice is served.” Arthur watched her face light up with sheer delight, and the terror and doubt he had felt moments ago lessened slightly. She is my only sister. She had suffered. How could he, as her brother, stand by and do nothing? Besides, he had done nothing wrong. Isolde had brought this upon herself; she defied tradition and disrespected her family. And to be unfilial—was that not the gravest of sins?

“Now that Isolde is out of the way…” Cristina’s eyes darkened with ambition. “Do you think Oliver will—”

“Will what?” Arthur’s head snapped up, sensing danger in her tone.

Cristina leaned forward eagerly. “Do you think she’ll be executed? If she is, Oliver will be a widower. Perhaps… I could marry him after all.”

Arthur’s blood ran cold. “Are you mad? You’re William’s concubine now.”

“I never wanted to be his concubine,” Cristina scoffed, her lips curling in disdain. “I never even liked him. The only reason I stayed was to bring down Isolde. Now that she’s locked away, why would I remain?”

“No. I will not ask,” Arthur’s voice was like steel. “Cristina, this is insanity. You were once Oliver’s concubine, then William’s. And now you wish to marry Oliver! Even if I agreed, the Valen family never would.”

“You are the Valen family’s son-in-law,” Cristina argued darkly. “If they refuse, have my sister plead my case. And if she fails, threaten to divorce her.”

Arthur stood up slowly, studying her face. A decision formed in his mind—he had to get her out of the Valen estate. Even if it meant losing all dignity, even if it meant begging, he would secure her release. Once she was back home, he could deal with her madness there.

As he stepped out of the Sunset Chamber, he finally admitted what he had long denied: he had spoiled Cristina beyond reason. He had let her arrogance fester, allowed her to act without restraint. And now, she had become someone unrecognizable.

Arthur sought out William, who had just returned from outside, dressed in stark white, his face clouded with gloom.

“William, I need to speak with you,” Arthur announced, assuming the authoritative stance of a brother-in-law.

“Speak.” William said curtly, his tone sharp.

Arthur’s brows furrowed. “What’s with your attitude?” In the past, William had always shown him respect. But now, despite being married into the family, he dared to be this insolent?

William sneered. “How do you expect me to act towards two scheming, vile, and despicable people?”

“You–” Arthur clenched his jaw. “Fine! Fine! Since that’s how you feel, I’ll make things easy for you. Write a letter of release and let Cristina leave.”

William’s lips curled into a cold smirk. “Sure. Get on your knees and beg me.”

Arthur’s face darkened with rage. “William, don’t push your luck!”

“Then get out.” William turned to leave.

Arthur lunged forward, grabbing his sleeve, intending to strike him—to teach him a lesson. But in a swift motion, William flipped him over his shoulder and slammed him onto the ground. Before Arthur could even react, a boot pressed down on his chest, pinning him to the floor.

A voice like ice sliced through the air. “Let me warn you—don’t provoke me. You and Cristina disgust me. I once despised Isolde the most, but now… you and Cristina make me sick.”

Then, without another word, William turned and strode away, leaving Arthur gasping in humiliation. Arthur lay there for a long time, his entire body aching. His ribs throbbed, and his ankle twisted painfully. He struggled to his feet, fury burning in his eyes, his fists trembling.

“Fine,” he muttered bitterly. “Everyone looks down on scholars. Everyone.”

His humiliation flared hotter. Margaret’s voice was calm, cutting. “Didn’t you let her insult me? Didn’t you stand by and watch as Cristina humiliated my family?”

“Fine!” Arthur spat. “You all despise Cristina. Then why not just release her?”

Margaret chuckled. “Of course. Just return the bride price.”

Arthur’s lips twisted. “Ten million? I’ll have someone deliver it immediately.”

Margaret’s smile sharpened. “Not ten million. One hundred million.”

Arthur inhaled sharply. “That’s robbery! I only took ten million from you to begin with!”

Margaret’s eyes gleamed. “Ninety million is for the damage Cristina has caused my family.” She turned to leave but added, “Gather the hundred million, and you can take her. If you don’t have it, don’t come back. And tell Agnes this—if she dares plead for you, I will ensure that the full might of the Valen family and my connections are turned against her husband. I will see him crushed in court and in politics, with nowhere left to stand.”

Arthur stood there, frozen, as the blood drained from his face. He had once thought Margaret, despite her strictness, had a soft spot for Agnes. He had believed she was reasonable, that she could be persuaded. But today, he saw her true face—sharp, ruthless, and utterly unyielding. He felt like a child playing with daggers in a room full of executioners. Stumbling away, his mind reeled with the weight of his loss.

Meanwhile, at Vermelle Hall, Clark was overseeing the final records from Prudence’s funeral, detailing the offerings and tributes received. Many of the funeral gifts had gone into the ceremony, but a significant portion had been quietly taken by his father, Vance. Since last night, Vance hadn’t returned home, choosing instead to stay at Vermelle Hall.

As Clark was finalizing the records, a servant burst into the room, stumbling in panic. “Lord Clark! Quick—you must go! Something has happened to Geoffrey!”

Clark’s heart sank. He dropped his pen and bolted out the door.