The Swordswoman's Revenge Story after Rebirth

Chapter 324 The Wedding

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Natasha stepped forward and personally helped Isolde her feet. Gazing at her face, she choked up and whispered, “Good… good.”

Isolde supported her into a seat before kneeling once more—not to pay formal respects but to lower her head onto Natasha’s lap.

With trembling fingers, Natasha traced the delicate features of Isolde’s face. Her mind drifted back to the memory of Prunella’s wedding all those years ago. Her heart ached as though sliced by a knife. Yet, as she lowered her gaze to Isolde, an unexpected warmth filled her chest–her granddaughter had grown up. She was getting married.

The sky had fully brightened, but the snow only grew heavier.

The Valen family had gone all out for the occasion. Invitations had been sent far and wide, and with Pablo’s recent military triumph, his prestige was at its peak. Nearly the entire court–civil and military officials alike–had gathered to celebrate his son’s marriage.

Prior to the wedding, the Sharp family had already spoken with Pablo. Given that both families held significant positions in court, they decided to host a joint banquet at the Valen estate rather than separate feasts. This way, officials wouldn’t be forced to choose between attending Garrett’s celebration for his granddaughter or Pablo’s for his son.

Meanwhile, the Langley family had set up long banquet tables for the common folk, distributing food and porridge to Argentum’s impoverished citizens.

Oliver had been up all night. Generals who were off–duty had come to congratulate him, and his wedding procession was filled with soldiers from the Southern Watch and the military ranks–mighty and formidable.

Yet, grand as it was, the bridal escort was even more imposing. Though Garrett remained silent, the Sharp family’s entire guard had been dispatched. North Camp’s Lucas led a contingent of warriors. Anthony Keith and his men arrived in force. The princess, Johnathan, and others had sent representatives. Naturally, the princess herself, along with Rosemary and Sadie, were also part of the bridal escort.

The auspicious hour arrived. The bridal sedan chair stood at the entrance. Isolde knelt in the main hall, offering farewell respects before her red veil was placed over her head. Supported by the matron of honor and Esme, she stepped out of the hall.

The blare of horns rang through the air, firecrackers crackled endlessly, and the courtyard was packed with guards from the bridal escort. The lively sounds reached Isolde’s ears. Her palms were slick with sweat as she clutched Esme’s hand.

A red carpet stretched all the way to the estate’s gate. As Esme guided her forward, she whispered, “Cry.”

Isolde couldn’t force the tears out. Instead, she let out two exaggerated wails–so fake that even she laughed.

Esme nearly smacked her.

Step by step, Isolde moved forward. The firecrackers ceased, and the horns fell silent. Only when she reached the gate would the music resume.

Rehind her Natacha’s soft cohe suddenly broke the hus

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moments ago, she had been smiling as Isolde paid her respects. But now, watching

to console her. “This is a joyous

“Yes, yes, a joyous day… but she’s only been by my side for such a short time, and now she’s leaving. My heart… I just can’t

this, Isolde felt a sharp pang in her heart. Tears welled up uncontrollably. She wanted to turn back and bow once more, but Esme whispered firmly,

woman, who had only recently found some peace within the Langley family, was now setting off to an unfamiliar household, beginning an

for parting. They were for the hardships Isolde might face in the days to come.

color matching his wedding robes. The vibrant

warrior–he embodied the perfect balance of elegance and strength. And today, as the groom, everyone finally saw it: Douglas’s

and horns exploded once more. Oliver tightened his grip on the reins, feeling his palms grow damp. Snowflakes drifted onto his shoulders, the world before him seemingly blurred between the brilliance of white

Then, she appeared.

and the matron of honor, Isolde stepped outside,

had expected her to be carried out. At every wedding he had attended,

out.

But she walked.

by step, steady and composed, she walked

stared at the veiled figure before him, his heart whispering with overwhelming reverence My bride. My wife. The woman I will

warriors on either side whooped and cheered. The

Garrett and Natasha, paying respects to Geoffrey, and even kneeling before the ancestral tablets. A dizzying blur of rituals later, he finally stepped outside–where his bride had already boarded

a lingering

amidst the thunderous horns and drumbeats, he

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carrying dowry chests and ceremonial gifts, making its slow

a bride, but today, the procession

a joint banquet, Garrett, Geoffrey, and the others would head to the Valen estate later–only after the bride had crossed the threshold

bridal procession–its imposing presence akin to a military campaign–they were visibly stunned.

wedding was destined to be a

in her chamber. She had cried all night,