Chapter 386: How Should Punishment Be Dealt?

Peyton spoke softly. He got what he wanted in the end. From the moment the truth was revealed, he no longer intended to live. The only thing keeping him tethered was Isolde. Though he took his own life, he left in peace.

“Does the Valen family know?” Kolton asked.

“Not yet. I had Harlan keep it quiet for now.”

“Then inform Oliver first. He needs to be prepared. As for Isolde… though she always acted indifferent toward her father, and often claimed she resented him for the past, deep down, she had already forgiven him. She was just too stubborn to admit it.”

Patricia’s heart ached. “We must keep this from Natasha. If she finds out… it will be unbearable.”

Before Geoffrey’s death, there had been nothing but grievances against him—people called him foolish, blindly dutiful, and cold-hearted. He was a victim, yet he could not be absolved. He had failed to protect his wife. He had failed to protect his daughter. But now that he was gone, those very people reconsidered. Perhaps, all along, he had been the greatest victim. He lost his beloved, he lost the chance to raise his daughter, and in the end, he carried the burden of everyone’s anger and blame. A heavy sorrow blanketed the Sharp family.

Oliver, upon hearing the news, rushed to the Langley estate. Harlan handed him two letters, his voice hoarse with grief. “We found these on his desk. One is for you, the other for Isolde.” Oliver stared at the letters, the weight of finality crushing him. Their last conversation had unknowingly been their farewell.

Meanwhile, officials from the Ministry of Justice arrived. Under imperial orders, they were to conclude the investigation by dawn, reporting the truth to the King. Seeking assistance, they turned to Harlan and Oliver. Finding the necessary witnesses was easy, but two of them were residing in Montlins Manor. They could not be questioned without alarming Jessica, and Wadeina was present. Without alarming her, Oliver rode through the night to retrieve Jessica and Wade in secret. Marley, still recovering at the Sharp estate, was also available to testify. The physician who had attended Prunella was located as well.

The investigation proceeded swiftly. The testimonies aligned perfectly. Additionally, Matilda, still imprisoned, was interrogated. Cross-referencing all statements, the case was laid bare. That night, Davon Golden, the head of the Ministry of Justice, entered the palace to present the findings.

The King read through the records, his fury mounting with each word. Finally, he slammed his fist down, his voice thunderous. “A venomous, wicked woman! And I once granted her noble status? Issue the decree—strip her of all posthumous honors. From now on, she shall be remembered by the name she deserves—”

Moments later, Heath emerged. “Your Majesty, the Queen Mother requests your presence.”

The King paused. “At this hour?”

It was well past midnight. Thelma usually retired much earlier.

“She has been waiting for you.”

“Prepare my carriage.” The King immediately rose.

At Mystic Palace, Thelma had prepared a bowl of ginseng soup.

“Mother, why are you still awake? Is something troubling you?” the King asked.

“Nothing. Drink your soup,” Thelma said warmly.

The King realized how hungry he was—he had barely eaten all night. The hot soup warmed him, and as the heat spread through his body, he removed his cloak.

“Mother, is there something on your mind?” he asked after finishing.

Thelma finally smiled. “So, have you gotten to the bottom of it?”

“You were concerned about this case?”

“I was. So, what was the result?”

“The woman was despicable,” the King’s voice darkened. “She deserved far worse.”

“Then I am glad the truth has come to light,” Thelma said calmly. “And Arthur? How do you plan to deal with him?”

The King studied her. “You have an opinion?”

“I simply find it strange. Arthur has never been one to cause trouble. Don’t you think his actions were uncharacteristic?”

“I do,” the King admitted. “By all logic, he should not have submitted that memorial.”

Thelma nodded slightly. “By the way, after you left earlier, I sent word to Finnian. He will be arriving in Argentum soon.”

“You shouldn’t have troubled yourself,” the King said.

“He should meet you eventually. After all, Ashley is his granddaughter.”

Twice now, Thelma had mentioned Ashley. The King understood Thelma well—she never spoke of irrelevant people or matters. If she had brought Ashley up twice in a single day, it meant she had noticed something significant.

“You should go. I am off to bed,” Thelma said, dismissing him.

Chapter 386: How Should Punishment Be Dealt?

Protest? Trying to pressure the King? Fools. That will not work. The crime of defying an imperial decree was severe. The King would not show leniency.

He had heard that Pablo and the others had already petitioned the King on Isolde’s behalf, only to be rebuffed. Last night, Arthur had conferred with several colleagues. This morning, they would submit a joint appeal, urging the King to punish Isolde for her defiance. While waiting outside the court, he whispered with his allies once more.

Isolde, do not blame me for being ruthless. You were ruthless first. I told you—I would tear that calm, defiant smile from your face.

“The King arrives!” Heath’s voice rang out, followed by the pounding of ceremonial drums. The court fell into silence. After the customary bow, the King took his seat, sweeping his gaze over the officials.

Heath raised his ceremonial whisk. “If there are matters to present, speak now.”

Arthur stepped forward immediately. “Your Majesty, I have a memorial to present.”

The King’s cold gaze settled upon him. “Speak.”

Arthur’s voice rang out, clear and firm. “Your Majesty, concerning Isolde’s defiance of imperial authority and her lack of filial piety. I must stress that her actions are an affront to the principles by which you govern and educate your subjects. If she is not severely punished, the morality of the Eryndral Empire will erode. Elders will no longer be respected, and rebellion will spread throughout the court and the common people. The very dignity of the Empire will be at stake.”

“I concur with Baron Arthur,” Jacoby Park, a learned scholar, stepped forward. “Since the founding of the Empire, the first King upheld the virtues of filial piety. It is well recorded that when the Great Queen Mother fell gravely ill, the first King personally attended to her, staying by her bedside for three sleepless days. When she passed, he mourned deeply and observed a strict period of mourning despite his own illness. Such was the example of true devotion. Yet now, Isolde—a woman granted the title of County Princess, then Princess, then General—is known throughout the land. If she is neither loyal nor filial, if she defies an imperial edict without consequence, then what will become of our laws and traditions?”

“I, too, support Arthur and Jacoby’s appeal.” Two more officials stepped forward.

Arthur knelt. “Your Majesty, we humbly request that you issue a decree to punish Isolde severely.”

The King stared at him, eyes cold as ice. “And what punishment do you propose?”