Her Majestic Battle Cry

Her Majestic Battle Cry Chapter 1074

Chapter 1074

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Aurora’s death brought Carissa no solace–not even a sliver of comfort.

That night, Carissa lay in bed. Her eyes were closed, her breathing slow and steady, giving the impression of deep sleep. In truth, she wasn’t asleep at all.

Scenes from the past played vividly in her mind, frame by frame, like butterflies flitting in a canyon, always just out of reach. She tried to hold onto something–anything–but her. grasp remained empty.

It was nearly dawn when she finally drifted off, her exhaustion overwhelming her restless thoughts.

Rafael opened his eyes. He hadn’t been sleeping, either. He could tell Carissa wasn’t truly asleep. A sleeping person’s body relaxed completely, but hers remained taut, indicated she was only pretending to sleep.

which

However, she was genuinely asleep now.

His heart ached. Since their marriage, their relationship had been harmonious–even loving. But Rafael knew Carissa had always kept her heart locked away. She would talk to him about anything else: political matters, even the weighty affairs of their nation.

Yet when it came to her feelings and emotions, she buried them deep within.

She buried her wounds beneath a facade of composure, refusing to let herself experience joy. It was as though she believed she no longer deserved it.

her smile appeared, there was always a shadow in her eyes–a profound sadness she couldn’t shake. That sorrow made her remarkably self–aware, but it also kept her tethered to her

lively young woman, like a wildflower blooming freely in the mountains, embracing life with the

could let herself cry, like the moment she had collapsed into his arms after reading her uncle’s letter. He had

his long fingers closing gently around hers. Her small hand

grasp.

wake, only sank deeper into sleep. Even in sleep, her dreams were

her emotions, so much so that she avoided thinking of the past altogether. But when

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Chapter 1074

the Sinclair

but the gruesome state

drenched in blood, crawling across the ground. One ear had been severed, and her eyes were red with blood as she

charged forward. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t land a blow on the murderer. It was as though

the barrier between dreams and reality–it was the

face her enemies, let alone exact

her nightmare, she screamed, her voice

her family. She wanted to hack Aurora into pieces

her mom, her sisters–in–law, her nephews, her nieces–they all fell to the ground, their blood pooling around them. She smashed into the barrier with her spear until her head throbbed and her hands bled, but she couldn’t break

hated it. She hated

“Carissa! Carissa!”

the nightmare, his hands gently

open. Her hand flew to his throat, her body radiating a deadly aura. As her vision cleared, it wasn’t an enemy she

froze, her hand slowly dropping as her expression