One day, Isabeau came to visit.
“Has my dear sister recovered?” She smiled sweetly, helping Elvira rise from bed. “I begged His Majesty’s permission to visit.” Elvira eyed her suspiciously. “What do you want?”
“Must a sister need reasons to care?” Isabeau blinked innocently. “Is it not only natural for me to be concerned about you?”
At that moment, Alistair entered the room.
Suddenly, Isabeau sank to her knees, tears streaming down her face as she sobbed, “Your Majesty! My betrothal gift–the token of your love–has gone missing! The precious keepsake you gave me when you promised to marry me!”
Elvira’s heart skipped a beat.
“What is this about?” Alistair furrowed his brow.
“I only
my sister today…” Isabeau gave Elvira a pointed look. “She must be the one who stole it…”
“I did not!” Elvira’s face paled.
But before she could protest further, a servant found the shattered token under Elvira’s pillow.
“See! It’s destroyed!” Isabeau cried, her voice breaking. “Elvira, you knew what this meant! Was jealousy so unbearable?“,
ves fin
Alistair’s gaze shifted between the two women, his eyes finally settling on Elvira. “Did you do this?”
Elvira fell to her knees, her voice calm, “Your Majesty, I know my place and have never harbored any inappropriate thoughts. Please, judge me fairly.” A flicker of something conflicted passed through Alistair
eyes. He was about to speak when two more servants suddenly knelt, speaking in unison.
“We saw Lady Elvira smash the token!”
“She cursed the duchess to die!”
At the mention of those words, Alistair’s face darkened, his voice cold. “So this is what you call having no improper thoughts? It seems that I’ve been too lenient with you. I’ve spoiled you, and now you’ve become audacious!”
“Seize her! Take her away and punish her!”
Elvira was forced onto a long bench, the whipping sound echoing as the pain surged through her body. Her vision blurred, but she bit her lip tightly, not uttering a sound.
With every strike, Alistair’s cold voice rang out: “Do you admit your
fault?”
Each time, she gritted her teeth and replied, “I do not.”
His gaze grew darker with each passing moment. Finally, with a wave of his hand, he stormed out. “Punish her until she admits her wrongdoing!”
Twenty lashes later, Elvira’s back was a mangled mess of flesh and blood.
Isabeau seized the opportunity, leaning close to her ear and whispering smugly, “Did you see that? Even if I’m married to another, his heart still belongs to me. Why else is the harem empty? Why else did he destroy your child? His interest in you was nothing more than because you resemble me.”
She laughed coldly. “If you dare dream of him again, I’ll make sure you die without a grave.”
Elvira, dizzy with pain, allowed a faint smile to play on her lips.
She wouldn’t have to do it herself.
Soon, she would be “dead” beyond recovery.
Chapter 6