he Swordswoman’s Revenge Story after Rebirth

Chapter 20 Duke Is Furious

Isolde slowly lifted her blood–red eyes. “Out of my way

Finished

The butler’s smile curled sinisterly, “My lady, this estate still belongs to the Duke. Forgive me, but I obey only his commands.”

“I’ll say it one last time–stand aside!” Isolde’s voice rang sharp as steel, laced with fury.

Unmoved, the butler seemed almost to relish provoking her. “I have my orders. Helena must not leave here alive. Put her down, and I’ll step aside.”

Isolde’s hand snapped to her Flowing Cloud Whip. With a flick, the whip cracked through the air and struck the butler squarely across the head.

He didn’t move, though blood streamed down his brow His grin was ghastly. “You’ll regret this, Miss Langley. I’ll see to it

Slowly, he retreated, as if his sole purpose had been to take the blow.

Isolde knew well enough the schemes these people played, but her fury burned too bright to care gathered Helena into her arms and carried her back to the Pearl Tower.

She

had she settled the girl than

lashed me with her whip–without a

her father and Matilda entered the courtyard. Behind her, Eleanor peered

pale, her injuries evident, but her eyes shone with defiance.

show your face here?” Geoffrey’s voice thundered with restrained

softly, her tone sharp and mocking. “Isn’t this my home?” Her gaze swept the gathered crowd. “It’s rare to see so many faces at my tower. A grand spectacle indeed–more fuss than

“What disgraceful deeds have

smile as she limped forward, her injured leg dragging faintly. “Why ask, Father? Haven’t you already passed

soothing. “My Lord, don’t let your anger blind you. Isolde’s nature is willful pressing her too hard will only make

breath. The Marquis has dissolved the engagement,” he said coldly. “But out of

knuckles pale. “A concubige? If I won’t marry him as his wife, why would I stoop so low?”

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Fri, Mar 7 G.

20 Duke Is

Finished

display. There’s still the matter of Mary. She served you loyally for years–your mother’s own maid–yet you killed her over some petty slight. How dare you?”

let out a hollow laugh, her voice raw with contempt. “I have one mother, and she’s long dead. If killing Mary was

repay me with this insolence: Dragging your

shame!

her voice remained steady. “Do you think I want to invoke her memory? What choice do I have, Father? Without her would you care for me at all? I’ve been poisoned by

your wife’s niece, and cast aside as though I were

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