The Swordswoman's Revenge Story after Rebirth

The Swordswoman’s Revenge Story after Rebirth

Chapter 9 Borrowing Strength

Finished

When Geoffrey arrived at the High Court of Parliament that morning, he found Oliver Valois, the deputy commander of the Southern Watch, waiting for him.

However, Geoffrey had left the document at his estate. le had taken it home the previous evening to review for any oversights but had forgotten to bring it with him to the office.

Pressed for time, Oliver accompanied Geoffrey back to the manor to retrieve it.

As they stepped through the gates, the sound of a skirmish echoed from the rear courtyard. The grand hall, however, was eerily empty.

Geoffrey’s expression darkened. He exchanged a sharp look with Oliver, and together they hurried toward the commotion.

In the Pearl Tower, they arrived just in time to see Milten deliver a vicious blow to Isolde. Her body flew through the air and landed hard, crumpled like a discarded rag.

Without a second thought, Oliver sprang forward, catching her just before she hit the ground.

Isolde spar blood but steadied herself, locking eyes with him.

Before her time travel, there had been only one person she could never best–Oliver, the Marshal of Brackenfell.

Oliver was the adopted son of the Marquis of Eldermere and the elder brother of William. His father by blood, Douglas Valois, the famed Marshal, had fallen in battle. Afterward, the Marquis of Eldermere took Oliver in but let him retain his family name.

At thirteen, Oliver went to war alongside his adoptive father. Even then, he showed no fear, cutting down over thirty enemies in his first campaign. The Regent himself had praised him as a worthy heir to his father’s legacy. By sixteen, Oliver had earned the title of Marshal of Brackenfell.

The Royal Court, always keen to honor its war heroes; saw Oliver’s promise. The Marquis of Eldermere ensured his talents were nurtured, and by twenty–one. Oliver had been named Grand Marshal. Leading the imperial forces against the Thalvinar, he returned victorious, earning the title of Marquis of Brackenfell.

But the glory was fleeting.

In the second year of his marquisate, Oliver fell in the Battle of Ashenford. He was struck down while saving Isolde. The cruelest irony was that she had put herself in danger to save William.

William had never masked his disdain for Oliver. Even years later, when she visited Oliver’s grave to p her respects, William sneered and, with a show of contempt, kicked over the incense burner.

pay

To everyone else, Oliver was a man of unyielding courage, a paragon of strength. Only William refused to

Before her time travel, she had carried the weight of Oliver’s death, the guilt gnawing at her for years.

presence a blend of elegance and authority–she

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heard those familiar footsteps, she’d let her guard down on purpose, allowing Milton

Geoffrey, her sobs loud and desperate. “My Lord,

flickered, and he sheathed his sword,

with a complicated air. He helped steady Matilda, glanced at the guards struggling to rise,

Isolde. His expression was

pale face lending her an air of quiet

the whip behind her, Thark etched in the dirt, she approached the Duke. Milton’s earlier strike had ravaged her insides, the pain like a

loathe me so much, send me back to Windermount. Why poison my food? My mother gave her life to bring me into this world, not for me to endure

passed through his eyes, and he stood motionless, as if struck by lightning-

her, and her body went limp as

arm caught her waist, and the faint scent of agarwood reached her. Only Oliver was

She fainted.

legendary, yet you stoop to using it against a noblewoman. Does that not tarnish your

remind you, this is a family matter, entirely outside the Marsha of Brackenfell’s jurisdiction or

“Your Grace, I disciplined Isolde today for the family’s sake. I trust you

from Isolde’s pale face.

has killed someone–she even tried to murder Aunt!

“Marshal Blackwell, I appreciate your concern, but matters within the Duke’s household are mine to resolve. I

his favor, no matter how outrageous his

he said, his voice tight with fury. “But remember this:

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spreads, your reputation will lie in ruins. For the sake of our family ties, I advise you to

out, his cloak swirling behind him. Eleanor hurried after him, her

Geoffrey carefully. “My lord, my brother and niece only came to visit

his voice cold and clipped. “Then you may report

protests, Matilda curtsied. “Yes, my

of her past life returned. She relived her death at William’s hands,

and agonizing, echoing through the

through the suffocating darkness, clear and