Chapter 1201

Chapter 1201

As Carissa rode back to Hell Monarch Estate, the murmurs of the townsfolk reached her ears. Small groups gathered on street corners and market stalls, their conversations buzzing with the shocking events at Gracewood Women’s Academy.

The academy and Skye Embroidery had already drawn public attention some admiring, some critical. But how, with a scandal of this magnitude, the entire city seemed to be in an uproar.

At the heart of it all was Rosalind, the royal chancellor’s granddaughter. The jewel of high society, a young woman of golden pedigree–dishonored by a brutish laborer.

Who would marry her now?

“She was foolish,” someone whispered. “She could have lived out her days as a sheltered noblewoman, but she chose to play teacher. Well, look where that got her! Her reputation is ruined forever.”

Carissa deliberately slowed her horse, listening intently as she passed by, hoping–desperately

for someone to acknowledge Rosalind’s bravery, to speak of how she had shielded her. students. But no such words came. Not a single voice praised her courage or sacrifice.

Carissa’s heart sank under the weight of it all.

She had faced her share of trials since becoming the commander of the Mystic Army, including several assassination attempts. Not every mission had gone perfectly, and even Skye Embroidery had its own challenges. Yet, none of it had discouraged her. She believed that many things could be accomplished slowly, as long as she did her best.

However, this was different.

her

disaster shouldn’t

more alert? Was it because Rafael had left the capital, and the pain of parting

if she had foreseen them, she hadn’t taken

overwhelming sense

a long time before Jacob rushed in. He had gone to the Royal Citadel to inquire after hearing about the matter and hadn’t expected Carissa to be back so soon. Upon arriving at the estate, he found her sitting

འཇལ་

had never seen Carissa in such a dejected state. She was slumped in the chair, her legs.

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Chapter 1201

said, “Your Grace, what matters now is finding the mastermind

her face with both hands. “Jacob, I’m fine. Don’t worry about me. I just need a

she planted her feet firmly on the ground, her back

and

through. Who could be behind

ideas at the moment. “The tactics used are vile–dirty to the core. And the cover–up with the murder? I can’t

people with a motive. While the workshop may seem accepted by most, there are plenty who secretly

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