I take what I want, where I want,” he growled, tearing her dress.
Elvira caught a glimpse of Isabeau, her face pale, clutching a handkerchief tightly.
Only then did she realize–This was never about her. He just wanted Isabeau to hurt.
But what about her?
She was a woman too. Had he ever considered how mortifying this situation was for her?
The entire hall of nobles turned their backs, even the musicians had stopped playing. The vast chamber fell into eerie silence, save for the tearing of fabric and Elvira’s stifled sobs.
When Alistair finally finished, standing and adjusting his attire, Elvira lay crumpled on the throne, her clothes in tatters, utterly disheveled.
ཅ ཇ ཧ་ ཇརྞྞ ཇ ཟ ཋ ཋ ཐཱ ཎ
Alistair did not spare her a glance as he walked past her toward the exit.
The courtiers remained with their backs turned, as though nothing had happened.
Elvira curled on the floor, her nails digging into her palms. In this moment, she understood. In Alistair’s eyes, she wasn’t even human.
After the banquet, Elvira dragged her exhausted body back to her chambers. Her legs were weak from the ordeal.
Suddenly, a force shoved her into the icy water of a lake.
“Ah!”
& ill
She struggled desperately, coughing up the bitter water, her hands just brushing the stones at the shore before being shoved back under. “Help…”
Water filled her nose and eyes, and her vision blurred.
Just before her consciousness faded completely, she saw a figure standing on the shore… It was Isabeau.
When Elvira awoke again, she found herself lying in a chamber, her throat burning with every
breath, as
though she was being sliced by knives.
“Are you awake?”
Isabeau sat at the bedside, wearing an elegant gown of silk and velvet, the jeweled hairpin in her hair shimmering slightly with each movement. “Did you really think that after His Majesty’s favor, you could rise above the rest? He’s just using you to vent his frustrations. Once he forgives me, he will bring me to the palace, and you won’t even have the right to serve him.”
Elvira opened her mouth to protest, to say she didn’t care about competing for favor, but before she could speak, Isabeau raised her hand— “Slap!”
རྗ ཋ ྃ ཕ བ མ ཆ ཤཱ ཞེ གཽ ཡཾ ༣ ༴ ཞ ཟ༐
The sharp sound of a slap rang out as Isabeau struck her
her own cheek.
The next moment, tears sprang to her eyes, and she gazed at the door with a pitiful look. “Elvira… I only care for you. Why must you treat me this way?” Before Elvira could react, the door crashed open.
Alistair strode in, his expression grim, his gaze cold as he scanned Elvira. “Have you lost your mind?”
Elvira scrambled to her knees, desperately explaining, “Your Majesty, I did not-
”
She knew that even though he was angry with Isabeau for remarrying, she would always be his true love.
Now, he didn’t bring her to the palace simply because he had just ascended the throne and could not yet take a noblewoman by force. But once his position was solid, he would bring Isabeau to the palace.
“Enough.” Alistair interrupted harshly. He turned to Isabeau. “Leave us.”
Isabeau feigned hesitation. “Your Majesty, but she…”
“You need not worry,” Alistair said coldly, “I will make sure she pays ten times for this.”
Isabeau’s eyes flashed with triumph, though she pretended concern. “Isn’t that a bit harsh?”
Chapter 3
Realch
The sharp
Sound of the slaps echoed through the chamber, each one landing with a sickening thud.
instantly bruised, blood seeping from the corner of her lips as her vision darkened.
In the end, she collapsed on the floor, her body too weak to move, as Alistair and Isabeau walked away.
The next day, Elvira, despite her injuries, dragged herself to attend to the king.
She lowered her head, offering him tea.
Alistair glanced at her swollen face, his brow furrowing. He suddenly raised his hand-
“Splash!”
The tea splashed onto the floor.
“How hideous,” he said coldly. “Disgusting. You look nothing like her now. Get out of my sight.”
Elvira bowed low, murmuring, “Forgive me, Your Majesty.”
As she exited the hall, Lord Chamberlain hurried after her.
“Lady, please wait.” He handed her a small porcelain bottle. “A salve for the bruises. His Majesty’s own. Treasure it.”
Elvira’s heart warmed at his kindness. “Thank you, my lord.”
Inside the hall, Alistair stared at her retreating figure, lost in thought.
“Why torment yourself so, Your Majesty?” Lord Chamberlain couldn’t help but ask. “If you care for her, why not show it plainly?
