The Swordswoman's Revenge Story after Rebirth

Chapter 199 Kill Your Own Mother

When it came to ghost marriages, there was a second type–one where one partner was still living while the other had passed

This ceremony was far grander, almost like marrying someone alive. It involved date setting, personal welcoming, and the formal binding ceremony.

But there was an unspoken truth attached to this kind of marriage the noble died, while the lowly lived

Isolde, for all her noble blood, was caught in this predicament. Her father, the Duke of Blackmoor, was a powerful figure; her grandfather, a Great Marshal; and she, herself, had been granted the prestigious title of County Princess by the King. And yet, here she was, about to marry a dead general.

Oliver Valois, once a Great Marshal, was barely given a second thought by anyone who mattered.

Most considered him little more than a puppet in the Southern Watch, elevated by Doug Becker. To the court, he was like an ornament–a pretty face on a statue made of enemy corpses–gifted his rank thanks to the King’s loyalty to Douglas.

As for his own battle honors? There weren’t many. One could count them on one hand, the most notable being the elimination of a band of bandits. The rest of the victories under his belt were nothing more than the Marquis of Eldermere’s successes, fought by the Marquis‘ command, not his own.

So when word spread of Isolde’s upcoming marriage, it hit everyone like a punch to the gut.

Even Geoffrey was left reeling. In fact, he was nearly the last person to know his own daughter was about to

marry a corpse.

The shock was too much to bear. He couldn’t believe his ears. How could she–his precious daughter- marry a dead man?

Out of options, Geoffrey sought out Doug Becker, desperate for an explanation.

Doug didn’t waste a second on sympathy. The moment he heard the Duke wanted to talk about his daughter’s marriage, he threw up his hands. “This is her choice. You wanna say something? Take it up with

her.”

The Duke wasn’t surprised. He’d known Doug wouldn’t show him mercy, and he’d steeled himself for that cold reception.

Hearing Doug’s words, the Duke snapped, “You’re her master, aren’t you? You can’t just stand there and let her marry a corpse, can you?”

Doug’s face was stone–cold as he responded, “Even you have no say in this. What can I do?”

The Duke’s expression darkened, his voice tightening with emotion. “Don’t talk to me like that. I know I messed up. I’m not proud of it, but I’ve realized it. “I’m just worried she won’t know how to live the rest of her life. Can we have a civil conversation, without you throwing insults my way?”

his anger boiling over. “Is that supposed to be an insult? I haven’t even said half of what I could. If I don’t disgust you, who the hell will? You

posture slumped, his shoulders sagging in defeat. He

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mistake”

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been hard on Isolde, and seeing him in this state, he couldn’t help but sicer. “What do you want me to do? She made her choice. She’s just as stubborn as her mother was “Remember back when Marshal wouldn’t let Prunella Langley marry you? He tried everything persuading, yelling, even threatening–but it didn’t

fool!”

deep breath. Tve failed both of them. All I can hope

can’t just fix this because you want to. Isolde… don’t

back and do nothing, even if she’s angry with me. I have to try

again. “You really think she’ll be happy marrying Oliver? Is that what you’re holding on to? You’ve completely lost it. What the

exactly what we should be involved in, whether you like

his eyes filled with frustration. He was honestly terrified that this guy might

your mother poisoned Prunella multiple times. Isolde carried that poison in her womb. Sadic says she’s

bombshell and then, without another word, turned on his

the chair’s armrests, trembling violently. His mind went blank, but Doug’s words kept echoing in the empty space, rattling around in his head.

years? Is Doug trying to provoke me on

like that. He cared too

So, it’s true?

to the residence. He

as he passed, “My Lord,

didn’t even acknowledge her, walking right past her as if she was

festering on their faces wasn’t fully healed, but at least the itching had stopped, giving them a

might’ve sensed someone was nearby and stirred awake. She slowly

eyes of

from the wind, it had worked. And on top of that, the cold medicine Isolde had given her had neutralized the lacquer tree sap and centipede ash. It was just what she needed. That’s why

say anything, just staring at

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Kill Your Own