Chapter 23 Did You Do It?

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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.”

dragged out. The pouring rain poured on his

split the heavens, briefly lighting the inside. There, huddled beside the firewood,

the scars etched across

one smooth motion, the dagger flashed again. The botler howled, and two ragged pieces of his ears dropped to the

time his wife arrived with

Mar

23 Did You

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Duke’s estate!”

days, shaking the heavens and tearing through the earth. It wasn’t

Tower, the gates shuddered under a barrage of furious pounding–like thunder given

Geoffrey striding in, followed by his butler with ears bandaged and Matilda

intended to scatter them–simple labor for a life of self–reliance.

lips as her gaze met the Duke’s. “Well Your Grace, what an unexpected honor. To

visit.”

madness is

leg. Isolde limped forward, her voice sharp with mockery. “Your Grace, what accusation is this? Speak plainly. But if you wish me to raise my hand against you–my father, by name- surely such a sin would invite heaven’s wrath. I couldnt

orders. If I’ve offended

made one too many enemies, and someone came knocking. Why lay that

no common servant–you’ve no right to treat him so? If he brings

Isolde said coolly. “But if you wish to accuse me, evidence will

“Evidence? The butler’s wives saw

deepened. “Very well. Let’s take it to the High Magistrate. While we’re there, I’ll inquire about how Constable Harmon dragged me off in the

“What

and 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 believe you’ve uncovered the truth But tell me, Your Grace–did

is clear. How can you deny it? Even

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