The Swordswoman's Revenge Story after Rebirth

Chapter 23 Did You Do It?

Finished

Isolde slowly lifted her head, fixing him with an icy stare. “You don’t know? That’s unfortunate. I had thought… if you gave me Helena’s brother, I might spare your life. But it seems this deal is no longer on the table.”

She rose s

gracefully, advancing toward him. The butler stumbled back in terror, his feet fumbling clumsily.

With deliberate ease, Isolde plucked the dagger embedded by the bed. The cold steel caught the dim light, flashing menacingly as she twirled it before him. Her smile sharpened. “I’ll give you one more chance- where is Helena’s brother?”

The butler swallowed hard. Mary’s grisly end replaying in his mind. His heart pounded, but pride gave him a shred of defiance.

“Lady Marilda.” he rasped, struggling to sound bold, I’m no bonded servant of the Duke’s house, nor was I ever sold to it. If you kill me, you’ll answer for it–you can’t escape the noose.

Isolde chuckled, soft and low. “A life for a life? Perhaps But.. Her gaze turned sharper, predatory. “Who’s to say I killed you?”

The dagger’s blade pressed against his cheek, the chill biting deep. The butler froze, petrified, afraid to move a muscle.

“You… you’ll regret this,” he stammered, his voice trembling despite himself. The Marshal and the Duke won’t let you go unpunished!”

The words had barely left his lips when Isolde’s hand moved. The blade swept in a clean line, slicing from the corner of his mouth to his ear. Blood streamed down his face as he screamed–a sound swallowed instantly by the rolling thunder outside.

Somewhere, Lady Cantrell fled, her skirts flapping as she disappeared into the storm. She had no mind to intervene, leaving the butler to his fate.

The wind howled, the rain drummed ceaselessly, and no soul in the house dared come near.

At last, the butler’s spirit cracked. Sobbing through his pain, he croaked, “The woodshed… in my family’s woodshed…”

Isolde’s lips curved into a cruel smile. She yanked him to his feet, her voice soft and mocking, “Lead the way, then.”

poured on his wound, making him cry out in

split the heavens, briefly lighting the inside. There, huddled beside the firewood, was a small, trembling

in that fleeting light, Isolde saw the scars etched across the boy’s face. Fury ignited in her eyes.

flashed again. The botler howled, and two ragged pieces of

arrived with

Mar

23 Did You

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Duke’s estate!”

days, shaking the heavens and tearing

under a barrage of

the door to find Geoffrey striding in, followed by his butler with ears bandaged

the yard. Isolde was planting vegetables. Noelle had brought back seeds earlier, and Isolde intended to scatter them–simple labor for a life of self–reliance. She was a farmer returned to her place, knowing her role, as

Isolde slowly stood. leaning on her hoe for support. A cold, defiant smile played across her lips as her gaze met the Duke’s. “Well Your Grace, what an unexpected honor. To what do I owe

visit.”

last night to seek revenge–what madness is this? If you’ve a

wish me

broke in, his voice booming with indignation. My Lady, all I’ve done has been under His Grace’s and Madam’s orders. If I’ve offended you. punish me! Kill me, if you must. But what right have you to harm my family?

perhaps you’ve made one too many enemies, and someone came knocking. Why

“Isolde, the builer is no common servant–you’ve no right to treat him so? If he

let him go,” Isolde said coolly. “But if you wish to accuse me, evidence will be required.”

saw you

we’re there, I’ll inquire about how Constable Harmon dragged me off in the dead of night on a trumped–up murder charge. drugged me, and sent me to Wolf Mountain. I’d love to

face paled. “What nonsense is this?”

bitter. “You’ve already judged me, haven’t you? You asked Helena, you questioned the guards, you listened to Lady Blackwell and the butler. You

cold. “The evidence is clear. How can you deny it? Even if I asked you outright, would you