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 lives.
“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 atter 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 in the place, and you won’t even have the right to serve him.”
Elvice 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!”
The sharp sound of a slap rang out as Isabeau struck 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 Elvita 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 palate 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 Isabeas to the palace.
“Enough.” Alistair interrupted harshly. He turned to
