Novel Story after 403
Posted on April 11, 2025 · 0 mins read
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The Swordswoman’s Revenge Story after Rebirth

Chapter 403: Not Her Real Son

Cristina had been through too much lately. She had been slapped countless times and never expected that, upon sneaking back to her family home, Arthur would strike her as well. Her anger and frustration bubbled over, and she nearly went mad, shouting, “You’re blaming me for your own failures? If you truly cared for me, you would’ve gone to the Valen family to fight for my position! William—what’s he even worth? I don’t even care about him, yet he dares to look down on me? Do you know what Agnes did last night? She came to my room and insulted me relentlessly! You couldn’t even control your own woman—letting her bark like a mad dog in my room! If you truly want to help me, write her a divorce letter and send her away!”

Madilyn, hearing this, was equally enraged. “She dared to come into your room and bark like that? That mad dog! I told you to divorce her, Arthur, but you wouldn’t listen! It’s as if you can’t get a wife and are stuck with this mess!”

Arthur was caught between the two women’s fury, his head feeling like it was going to explode. He sat, defeated, with tears welling up. “Do whatever you want,” he said in a resigned tone. “I will never get involved in your matters again.”

Cristina seethed, “You won’t get involved? You’ve never done anything right. You lose your position, and now you blame me for it? Is there anyone as shameless as you? And you say I’m ungrateful? What about your gratitude to your mother? She raised you, but you’re not even her real son!”

Madilyn froze at Cristina’s words, then immediately snapped, “Shut your mouth! Don’t speak nonsense.”

Cristina retorted angrily, “I’m not talking nonsense. It’s the truth.”

Arthur looked between his mother and Cristina, then glanced over at his father, who had been reading quietly in the corner. August had put down his book and was now looking at them with a complicated expression.

“What is going on?” Arthur’s heart turned cold. “Am I not her real son?” he thought.

No wonder Madilyn had never treated him as well as Cristina, always demanding he protect her. No wonder she had never truly cared about his future.

“Don’t listen to Cristina’s ramblings,” Madilyn quickly interjected, trying to salvage the situation. “She’s just confused and speaking nonsense.”

“Mother, why are you still hiding this from him? He’s the child of a prostitute, born from a lowly background, and even Isolde and Oliver are better off than him!” Cristina’s cruel words pierced the air.

Arthur stood there, stunned, his mind racing. A prostitute’s child? He was a scholar, someone who had occasionally visited Vermelle Hall to discuss poetry with close friends. In his mind, Vermelle Hall was a place of culture and grace, while a brothel was nothing but filth and corruption.

I’m the child of a prostitute?

August barked angrily, “Shut your mouth! What nonsense are you speaking? A prostitute? She comes from a respectable family.”

He and walked out of the room.

The world around him seemed to tilt, and he almost collapsed. The blow was worse than being dismissed by the King. A scholar, no matter his humble background, always prided himself on being from a respectable family. Now, everything was shattered.

He knew he should ask more questions, but the courage had drained from him. He could already guess the truth—that he was born to a prostitute, abandoned, and that his parents had taken him in and raised him. They had given him life, but now, through his sister’s actions, he had lost everything. Perhaps this was his repayment to them. But he couldn’t accept his origin.

As he left the courtyard, everything around him seemed to spin. His servant rushed forward to support him, but he waved him off weakly. “Let’s go. I need to get some air.”

In the house, Madilyn glared at August, her voice filled with venom. “What? After all these years, you still have feelings for that woman?”

August retorted angrily, “Watch your mouth. She was not some ‘slut’.”

Madilyn coldly shot back, “She stole someone else’s husband! How is she not a ‘slut’? And after everything she did, you still want to give her respect?”

August was too tired of the argument to fight back. He had learned over the years to keep quiet. He turned and walked away.

Madilyn, however, was relentless. She followed him, demanding, “Stop right there. Say what you need to say before you go.”

August turned back to her, frustrated. “What else is there to say? She was kicked out, and now she’s lost her son. She’s already suffered enough. What more do you want from her?”

“Suffered? Have I suffered enough?” Madilyn spat, her voice dripping with fury. “You think I didn’t suffer when you were off having fun with her? You think I didn’t suffer raising that boy alone? He became an official, and you think none of that was thanks to me? If it weren’t for me, where would he be today?”

August sighed, “Fine, you’re right. I have no argument.”

Madilyn smirked, “Of course, you can’t argue with me. Now, keep quiet about our son. His mother is a prostitute, and she deserves to be called that.”

August, his patience wearing thin, raised his hand in anger. “Say that again, and I’ll—”

Madilyn, seething with rage, shouted, “Go ahead, hit me! What are you waiting for? If you don’t strike me, you’re a coward.”

August paused, his resolve weakening as he looked at her furious face. Slowly, he dropped his hand, his voice cold. “A scholar doesn’t fight with a madwoman.”

Cristina, sitting back casually, shrugged. “What trouble? Arthur’s already lost his position, and we don’t need to rely on him anymore.”

Madilyn sank into a chair, muttering to herself, “I wanted him to fight for me, but after all these years, I can’t just ignore the mother–son bond. Seeing him lose his position hurts me too. But he’s so useless—Agnes bullies him, and he doesn’t even dare stand up to her. He’s just like your father—a coward.”

Cristina smirked. “I won’t leave the Valen family. I’m going to make sure I get what I deserve.”

Madilyn, after thinking for a moment, sighed. “I know, but there’s no use in messing with Isolde. She’s a tough opponent.”

Cristina’s eyes glinted with determination. “Isolde will die by my hand eventually.”

Madilyn shook her head. “Don’t provoke her yet. She’s dangerous.”

“I won’t just provoke her. I’ll go after Oliver too. I won’t rest until I make him fall for me,” Cristina said defiantly.


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