Chapter 7: Havoc at Pearl Tower

Mary’s face was swollen, blood seeping from her mouth and nose. She glared at Isolde, hatred blazing in her eyes. “Don’t get cocky. The Duchess won’t let this go.” Suddenly, Leonis sprang from Isolde’s arms, lunging at Mary and sinking its teeth into her nose. Mary’s shrill scream echoed across the Duke’s estate.

The butler and guards arrived swiftly, only to find a horrifying scene. Mary was bound to a pillar, her face a bloody mess, a pool of crimson spreading beneath her. Isolde stood calmly in the corridor, her icy gaze colder than frost, her expression grim and impassive.

“My Lady, what’s happening here?” the butler asked cautiously, stepping forward.

“Call for Madam! Now!” Mary cried, her voice hoarse and desperate, tears mingling with blood as they streamed down her ravaged face. A guard immediately ran for help. Isolde cradled Leonis, stroking its sleek black fur. The butler gasped upon closer inspection of the creature. “Good heavens, that’s not a dog—it’s a wolf!” A pure black wolf—an extremely rare and dangerous animal. Yet, the Lady of the estate had tamed it.

Isolde pulled up a chair and sat, her cold gaze fixed on the butler. He hesitated, unsure how to proceed. One of the guards started toward Mary, likely to untie her—everyone knew Mary was Matilda’s right hand. Overbearing though she was, she wasn't someone to be disregarded. Before he reached her, a whip cracked through the air, striking his arm and face, leaving a vivid red gash. The guard recoiled.

“Who dares untie her?” Isolde’s sharp, commanding voice echoed, her gaze like a gathering storm. The butler stepped forward, attempting a placating tone. “My lady, Mary is gravely injured. Untreated, she may not survive. Madam has always been merciful—”

“She’s merciful. I am not,” Isolde cut him off icily. “Whoever unties her will take her place on that pillar.” The butler froze, her sinister tone brooking no argument. He wondered if the rumors were true: Could Isolde truly be a skilled swordsfighter? For two years she’d endured humiliation silently, never fighting back. She’d been treated like a fool, accepting it without complaint—until now.

Mary groaned weakly. “Quick…remove the breakfast…”

The butler stiffened, his eyes darting to the untouched breakfast. “My lady, may I clear it away?” he asked carefully, inwardly cursing Mary’s folly. Poisoning the food? After Duke Langley’s reprimand of Madam last night? Was Mary trying to ruin them all?

“Go ahead,” Isolde said with a chilling smile, flicking her whip. “If you dare.”

The butler, wary of the whip, forced a strained laugh. “On second thought… perhaps I won’t.” He gestured to the guards to handle it.

Isolde’s voice cut through the tension. “I wouldn’t, if I were you. Why suffer needlessly? This has nothing to do with you. But touch what’s inside, and you’ll be accomplices.”

The butler offered a thin smile. “My Lady, surely there are no accomplices here. We all serve Duke Langley and the Duchess.” Geoffery would never let this escalate. Besides, Matilda wouldn’t be implicated, and he was likely already at the High Court of Parliament. If all the food was cleared, no evidence would remain. Isolde would be defenseless.

At the butler’s order, three guards moved in. Isolde’s whip lashed out, coiling around the neck of the leftmost guard. With a sharp tug, she flung him into the one in the center. The guard on the right lunged, but Leonis darted past, its teeth sinking into his neck. A blood-curdling scream ripped through the air. The butler recoiled in horror; a chunk of flesh had been torn from the guard’s neck. The black wolf snarled, its eyes gleaming with malice. The injured guard stumbled back, trembling, as Leonis advanced slowly, predatorily.

“I’d suggest you stay put,” Isolde said calmly, her back turned. “Wait here for the doctor.”

The metallic tang of blood filled the air; her eyes glinted with chilling bloodlust. The lanterns swayed, casting restless shadows. The dappled light filtering through the locust tree painted her face with a sinister pattern. Her ferocity froze everyone. No one dared move.

Matilda arrived, flanked by maidservants and guards. Mary, as if clinging to salvation, cried, “Madam, save me! Miss Langley is trying to kill me!” The sight of the guards and Mary lying injured on the ground sickened Matilda. Mary’s face was a ruin—her nose gone, blood pooling—but she was still conscious. Matilda’s face darkened. “Isolde, what is wrong with you?”

Isolde lifted her head slowly, a cruel smirk playing on her lips. “Oh, Madam. Fancy seeing you here.” A chill slithered down Matilda’s spine. There was something predatory in Isolde’s gaze, the enjoyment of the hunt evident. Ever since Isolde learned of Eleanor’s pregnancy, Matilda had sensed something was amiss. Now, staring into those wild, unhinged eyes, she knew—Isolde had completely lost it.

“What is the meaning of this?” Matilda demanded sharply.

“Careful, Madam,” Isolde said with a cold smile. “Don’t get too close. Leonis doesn’t differentiate between friend and foe.”

“What could she possibly have done to deserve this?” Matilda snapped.

“She followed your orders and poisoned my food,” Isolde replied evenly.

Matilda’s head snapped up, incredulous. “Poison? When did I ever give such an order?”

“Wasn’t it you?” Isolde asked coolly. “That’s what she claimed.”

“That’s a lie!” Mary shrieked, panic etched on her battered face. “I never said Madam ordered it!”

Isolde’s lips curled into an icy smile. “So, you admit to poisoning me?”

“It wasn’t poison!” Mary stammered. “It was just Painroot Extract. It causes stomach pain—it doesn’t kill!”

Isolde rose and strode to Mary, tilting her chin up with a finger. Mary’s ruined face trembled. “Oh? Then I suppose I should thank you for your mercy,” she said softly, her tone dripping with menace.

“No—” Mary began, but before she could finish, Isolde plucked a hairpin from her head and shoved it into Mary’s mouth, twisting it mercilessly. Blood gushed as Mary gagged, her cries choked into gurgles. The brutality silenced everyone, even Matilda.

Fixing Isolde with a steely glare, Matilda said coldly, “Isolde, you tied her up and tortured her with no evidence of poisoning? Such cruelty has no place in the Duke’s estate.”

Isolde said nothing. She returned to her chair, her expression unreadable, and casually flicked the whip. One of Matilda’s older attendants, Anne, emboldened by their numbers, stepped forward. “How dare you act so violently in front of the Duchess?” she shouted.

Isolde’s gaze snapped to her, venomous and icy. Anne froze, then scurried back behind Matilda, trembling. Isolde looked at Matilda with a wry, mocking smile. “Madam, do you truly have no capable people at your side?”