The Swordswoman’s Revenge Story after Rebirth: Chapter 437 Something’s Happened

Esme, a woman of action, went to the palace to find Rowena while Isolde rested. By evening, Isolde awoke to find dinner long past and the household scattered. Pablo and Allan rarely dined together; William was seldom present; and Margaret usually ate alone.

“Have you eaten?” Oliver asked upon entering, shrugging off his cloak and rubbing his hands. The chill lingered, so he forwent brushing Isolde’s cheek.

“I haven’t eaten; I was waiting for you,” Isolde said, stretching. Her peaceful nap had left her refreshed and energized.

“I had some soup with Doug at Southern Watch, but I’m still hungry,” Oliver said, calling out, “Noelle, are the dishes ready?”

Noelle answered from outside, “The food is ready; I’ll bring it in now.”

“Good,” Oliver said, pulling Isolde to the vanity. Her eyes were a little swollen from sleep, but her grown-out eyebrows, now dark and thick, added to her striking, heroic appearance. He brushed her hair, expertly pinning it up. Isolde smiled, “You’re getting quite good at this.”

“I learn fast,” he replied casually.

Isolde took his hand, their eyes meeting. “Your hands were made for fighting, but here you are, doing my hair. Doesn’t that seem like a waste?”

“There’s no better use for them than making you beautiful,” Oliver murmured, gently working through her hair.

Isolde tilted her head, smirking. “But what if there are no wars left? What if generals are useless in a peaceful empire? Wouldn’t that make you useless?”

“I’d rather be useless than see war,” Oliver said seriously. “And you don’t feel the same?”

Isolde’s voice softened. “I share your thoughts. If the Eryndral Empire can have peace, then my life wouldn’t matter. Peace is more precious than anything else.”

They both knew the weight of those words. Peace, after all, is something only those who have fought for it truly understand. The empire appeared calm, with large nations at peace, but Geoffrey had always sensed something amiss.

“Is something wrong?” Isolde asked, sensing a shift in Oliver.

Oliver looked at her, his expression serious. “Doug reported a raid yesterday in the border town of Fragoland. Mountain bandits attacked, killing over a hundred villagers and ransacking the place.”

“Fragoland’s border town? That borders Thalvinar,” Isolde said, surprised. “How could such a large group…”

“I suspect they’re not bandits,” Oliver replied.

“You think they’re Thalvinar soldiers pretending to be bandits?” Isolde asked.

“It’s possible,” Oliver said, analyzing. “The border town has been under Harrison’s command—though he’s back in Argentum, the majority of the forces are still stationed there. A bandit group wouldn’t dare act so boldly. It’s not a large town, and sending an army to wipe them out wouldn’t be difficult. Plus, if there are troops stationed there, the bandits would have to know better. Which bandit leader would risk such an operation?”

Isolde nodded, understanding his reasoning. “Has Doug said anything more?”

“Doug and I think alike, but many in court think this was just an isolated incident. They refuse to jump to conclusions and accuse Thalvinar of aggression, and some even blame Harrison’s troops for being ineffective.”

“There’s always someone who stands by and complains,” Isolde muttered angrily.

Noelle and Britney entered with the meal. “The food’s ready; it’s getting cold.”

“Have you eaten?” Isolde asked, standing.

“We’ve eaten,” Noelle smiled. “Esme hasn’t returned yet; she went to the palace.”

“Ah, I see,” Isolde said, turning to Oliver. “Esme went to the palace for what?”

“I asked her to inquire about Penny’s situation,” Isolde replied, wiping her face with a warm cloth.

“Still not giving up?” Oliver chuckled.

“I just want to know more. Penny’s been through so much. If she’s willing, I want to bring her back to Argentum,” Isolde explained.

Oliver, as always, supported her. “That’s a good idea. The more people you have close to you, the better.”

“Eat up,” Isolde said. “Allan should be back soon. After we finish, let’s go and pay him a visit.”

“Alright,” Oliver said, stirring the soup. “Duck soup, just what you need for some extra warmth.”

Noelle smiled, serving the soup. “Esme insisted on this. She said you must finish it.”

“It smells delicious,” Isolde said, eagerly ready to eat. “By the way, have Hattie and Hazel returned?”

“Not yet,” Noelle replied.

“If they come back, have them come see me,” Isolde said as she sipped the soup.

“Will do,” Noelle answered.

Once they finished eating, they asked Britney to check if Allan and Pablo had returned. She came back and reported, “They’ve returned. Pablo is in Allan’s room, having a late-night snack.”

“Good. Let’s go,” Oliver said, exchanging a look with Isolde.

Though Isolde had only recently married, she had learned some of Allan’s habits. He was very health-conscious and never ate late-night snacks, so if Pablo was with him, something must have been discussed.

When they arrived at Allan’s room, Heidi’s maid was just stepping out to warm the wine. Upon seeing them, she bowed politely.

“Is Allan still up?” Isolde asked.

“He and Pablo are having a drink. I’m about to go warm the wine,” she replied.

“Alright, go ahead,” Isolde said, dismissing her.

They entered the room, where a fire burned brightly. Allan and Pablo were sitting on a divan, a small table between them, drinking together, while Heidi embroidered by the light.

When they saw Isolde and Oliver, Heidi set down her needlework and stood, smiling. “I thought you’d come, please, sit down.”

“Heidi,” they greeted her, then quickly walked over, both saying, “Grandfather, Father,” in unison.

Pablo looked up and smiled, “You’re here.”

Allan looked at them, motioning to the chairs. “Come, sit. Have a drink with us.”

“Yes,” Oliver responded, pulling out a chair. He and Isolde sat on either side of the table. There was already a pot of wine on the table, and it seemed Allan and Pablo had been drinking for a while. Heidi brought two glasses and placed them in front of them. She reached for the wine, but Isolde stopped her, softly saying, “I’ll pour.”

She filled Allan’s glass first, then Pablo’s, before pouring one for Oliver and finally herself. Three small dishes for the wine sat on the table, untouched.