Isolde stormed out of the dungeons, arms crossed.
She didn't go far, strolling through the palace grounds with her sister, making casual conversation.
Her finger, bitten by Sylas, throbbed, and she was already plotting her revenge.
But first, she needed her sister's advice on how to handle the situation.
"Sister," Isolde began, her voice laced with concern, "you have a natural gift for understanding people's hearts. It's something I lack. So, tell me honestly. What should I really do with this Sylas?"
Celeste offered a faint smile, linking her arm through her sister's. Her mind, however, was racing through countless considerations.
Before today, she would have spoken her mind directly.
But after witnessing how her sister treated the pitiable Lord Sylas, a new wariness took root.
Her tone became exceedingly careful. "Sister," she said softly, "I think… this isn't wise."
"Not wise?" Isolde turned to look at her, nervously gripping her hand.
Her eyes were full of painful reluctance. "You… you think I shouldn't be so indulgent with him?"
Celeste's gaze shifted away. She forced a smile. "Well… Sister is, after all, the Empress of Aethelred.
You cannot focus all your energy on a single prisoner.
Beauty can be the downfall of kingdoms, after all."
Isolde panicked. "But… but I truly care for him! To be honest, at first, I just wanted the victor's pleasure from him, but later…"
Celeste lowered her head, falling silent. She knew she had said enough.
The Empress's mind was her own, and her will was absolute. She had planted the seed; that was her role.
Isolde pondered for a moment, then squeezed her sister's hand. "You're right. I was thinking too highly of him.
It was wishful thinking. He wasn't playing hard to get at all; he genuinely wants to die. I should execute him, grant his wish.
That way, he finds peace, and I can move on. Ah, what a cursed entanglement. How did I fall into this honey trap?"
"Execute him? Execute him?!" Celeste's eyes widened dramatically. She laughed with exaggerated shock. "It can't be that serious, Sister! How can you just kill someone like that?"
Isolde replied gloomily, "Then what should I do? If he doesn't die, I can't let him go.
But he refuses to submit, and my heart is tied to his whims.
Ah. I should have just ended it with one stroke back then."
Celeste began to gently steer the conversation. "Sister, why not try a different approach to win his heart?"
"How?"
Gritting her teeth, Celeste leaned close and whispered a few sentences into her sister's ear.
Isolde listened, then stood utterly stunned.
A moment later, she flew into a rage. "Celeste! You have no good intentions, do you? I'd rather kill him than do that!"
"Sister, affairs of state come first! You cannot lose yourself to a pretty face! As Empress, you must cultivate a resolve beyond that of ordinary people!"
"Go away! You're full of terrible ideas!" Isolde fumed, storming off angrily.
Celeste watched her retreating back, not following. She merely offered a helpless smile before turning and leaving herself.
…
Sylas remained in his cell, lost in thought.
Soon enough, Isolde returned alone.
He had hoped her walk would cool her temper, but she seemed even angrier than before.
She stopped before him, her tone sharp. "Sylas. I'm tired of games. I'm sick of your cold demeanor. I will ask you one thing now. Answer me plainly and honestly. Understood?"
Sylas urgently pointed to his throat.
Isolde made a simple gesture with her fingers, and Sylas found his voice restored. "Your Majesty, please ask. I will speak the truth," he said quickly, sensing a chance for resolution.
Isolde sat on the edge of the bed, arms crossed, and asked irritably, "Do you, or do you not, wish to serve me?
If you are willing, you will start now by trying to please me and earn my favor. Depending on your conduct, I might, in time, find an opportunity to name you my Consort.
We can coexist peacefully." She stared at him intently, willing him to agree.
Just say yes! If not, I'll end you!
Sylas was speechless.
After a long silence, he said quietly, "I thank Your Majesty for your esteem. But I am a son of Lyonesse, a conquered slave. I have no wish to become the Consort of Aethelred."
Isolde nodded. "Fine, I can skip the official title too. Less trouble. Just focus on pleasing me."
Sylas explained helplessly, "Your Majesty, I mean… I refuse…"
Silence fell in the dungeon.
Isolde stared at him for what felt like an eternity. Sylas did not utter another word.
Finally, after a very long time, Isolde stirred. She closed her eyes and let out a long sigh. "So your heart is set on death."
Sylas's tone was equally grave. "Yes. I have no more desire to live. I beg Your Majesty to grant me this."
"Sylas, you have truly broken my heart. Really. You are an irredeemable wretch."
Unable to contain her grief and frustration, Isolde lunged forward, grabbed his hair, and viciously tore the elegant knot apart.
"You don't deserve affection!" she cried, her voice cracking. "You deserve to be ridden by thousands, crossed by tens of thousands!
Fine! You want to die? I refuse!
You think you can die pure and unstained?
Hah! Just wait! Just you wait!"
She shoved his head away and strode out quickly.
The look in her eyes as she left was terrifying enough to kill a man.
If any Aethelredan had seen their Empress with that expression, they would have knelt without interrogation, confessing to every crime imaginable.
"I released the locusts in the eastern province! I breached the riverbanks! I built the capital of Stonewold single-handedly!"
Watching her leave in a fury, Sylas finally breathed a long sigh of relief.
It's finally over.
Before dying, he would pray for his mother and sister far away. He hoped they were safe.
Even if they couldn't restore their kingdom, it was alright. Just living on was enough.
He waited quietly.
Finally, the dungeon door opened again. A woman in a deep brown dress was pushed inside.
Sylas looked up and was astonished to see it was Jade.
Why was Auntie Jade here? Had Isolde sent her to deliver the poison?
A strange sense of relief washed over him. Dying by the hand of someone familiar wasn't a bad end.
Once inside, Jade's eyes found Sylas.
Her smooth, oval face instantly flushed crimson. Yet, she stumbled toward him.
Sylas slowly rose and bowed slightly. "Auntie Jade."
Jade stood awkwardly opposite him, forcing a smile. "Sylas… you… you have suffered."
Sylas: "When the nest is overturned, no egg remains unbroken. Auntie, have you come to see me off?"
Jade: "Uh…"
She slowly sat on the edge of the bed, her face a mask of helplessness and despair. "Sylas, come sit by your aunt. Let me talk with you."
Unable to guess her meaning, Sylas obediently sat down beside her.
Jade took his hand, her voice full of concerned warmth. "You must not be eating or sleeping well. You've really been through so much, child."