"Heh heh heh..." Isolde let out a dry, humorless laugh.
She descended from her seat and paced a few steps, her hands clasped behind her back.
Victoria respectfully awaiting her sovereign's words.
Isolde, her back turned to Victoria, felt her disgust for Sylas reach its peak.
This despicable wretch. All he does is seduce people indiscriminately! Have you even bewitched my God of War?
The more she thought about it, the more her hatred and anger grew.
She gritted her teeth so hard they nearly shattered; her rage made her want to draw her sword and cut Victoria down on the spot!
But suddenly, a flash of insight struck her. A string in her mind snapped. It was like drawing a bow too taut—the string broke under the strain.
And then, she felt an unprecedented sense of relief.
Sylas was never pure to begin with. He's already been defiled by Jade! What is there to cling to about such trash?
Her predecessor's final words, combined with her sister's scheming, had been forcing her to let Sylas go.
Wasn't this the outcome I wanted? Why be angry?
Isolde felt as if she had just stepped out of a hot spring, breaking into a sweat. A faint sadness lingered in her heart.
There was no helping it. She was the Empress of Aethelred; she had to be responsible to her empire.
Then... Sylas could not remain in the palace, continuing to disrupt her emotions.
She finally turned around. This internal struggle had felt like it lasted a year.
Isolde said evenly, "Sylas is indeed in my custody. However..."
She looked at Victoria with a hint of mockery. "However, I have already claimed him. Do you still want him, my Marshal?"
Victoria's face instantly flushed crimson with embarrassment.
The news that Sylas had been taken by the Empress had long since spread across the land. How could she not know?
But she genuinely hadn't considered this aspect.
She offered a pale explanation: "I merely wished to meet this resourceful man. I did not think that far ahead. I beg Your Majesty's pardon."
Isolde, however, wouldn't let it go.
She had finally convinced herself to let Sylas go. If Victoria didn't take him, she would be tormented all over again.
Somewhat impatiently, she said, "I am willing to bestow him upon you."
"I dare not..." Victoria quickly kowtowed.
"Ah, very well. It seems I misjudged you, my Marshal. In that case, I will host a banquet in the Phoenix Hall tonight in your honor," Isolde said, her tone a mix of bitterness and relief.
She had made up her mind. Tonight, she would hand Sylas over to Victoria.
Just send him away. If I don't, I'll go mad.
Victoria agreed readily and took her leave quietly.
As she exited, voices could be heard outside the door—Victoria and Celeste speaking.
"Marshal Victoria returns triumphant; I should have been there to welcome you. But I was feeling unwell today. " (Celeste)
"Your Grace must take care of your health. This subject takes her leave." (Victoria)
With that, Celeste entered the study. Seeing her sister sitting silently on the couch, lost in thought, she quietly sat down nearby and waited patiently.
Isolde was feeling downhearted.
She was reluctant to give Sylas away. But she had to. Beyond that, she also felt she was being indecisive.
Victoria was nothing less than a pillar supporting the sky for Aethelred. How could she, for the sake of a pretty face, chill the heart of such a pivotal subject?
No more thinking! Send the wretch away tonight! Otherwise, I won't be able to sit securely on this throne!
Only then did she notice her sister's arrival. She collected her thoughts and asked, "What is it?"
Celeste hesitated, then said, "Sister, I have... prepared Sylas for you."
"What is his attitude now?"
"He desperately wants to see you now. And to be... close to you."
Isolde immediately laughed and scolded, "I knew he was up to no good! Hmph! The moment he heard about 'consumption,' he just wanted to infect me!"
But the playful mood quickly faded. She said rather dejectedly, "Ah, but it's no use. Victoria just asked me for him. She wants Sylas."
Celeste jolted as if struck. "Sister! You agreed?"
"Victoria's merits are immense. She asks for no other reward, only this one request. I cannot refuse..." Isolde said despondently.
"But... that slob! She only knows how to take advantage of a situation!" Celeste swore through gritted teeth.
"CELESTE!" Isolde's call was instantly full of displeasure.
Celeste retorted, defiantly, "Sister, don't you think Victoria is going too far?
The reason she could achieve this was only by relying on your support!
Look at her now, swaggering about! Good heavens, she even dares to covet the Empress's man!"
SLAP!
Isolde slapped her hard across the face.
Celeste was stunned by the blow.
"Celine, you are becoming increasingly presumptuous," Isolde said angrily.
"This subject sister dares not..." Celeste mumbled an apology, her voice muffled.
"Go back. Think carefully about Aethelred's future. Do not always conflict with Victoria. She is the key to my unifying the mainland !" Isolde commanded.
Celeste, holding her cheek, rose and took her leave.
Isolde, however, felt even more desolate. The joy brought by victory seemed to drain away in that moment.
The discord between her sister and Victoria was known to all in Aethelred.
But now was not the time for sorrow.
She had to go see Sylas one last time and give him a proper... send-off.
Isolde, carrying all her negative emotions, went down to the dungeons.
Sylas seemed to be waiting for her. Seeing her enter, for the first time, he knelt respectfully. "May Your Majesty's holy body be well."
"Well my foot. I'm not happy," Isolde said.
Only when facing Sylas would she be so unrestrained.
She sat down before him, propping her long legs on his shoulders.
At this moment, she felt relaxed, like her true self.
Sylas knelt, not daring to move. He wanted to say something pleasant, but the words stuck in his throat.
Having resisted Isolde for so long, yielding now was truly uncomfortable.
He said in the most humble tone he could muster, "Is Your Majesty unhappy? I heard... I heard Marshal Victoria was victorious..."
"And so?"
Isolde watched his performance with amusement.
You wretch. Thinking of infecting me with consumption, are you? Let's see how you plan to climb into my imperial bed now!
Sylas said with an ingratiating expression, "Your Majesty, my family..." He suddenly choked up, not knowing how to continue.
Isolde put her legs down, crossing them instead and using the tip of her shoe to lift Sylas's chin.
Looking at his tearful, pleading expression, she said coldly, "Now you know to beg for mercy? Where's that untamable arrogance of yours? Don't lose it so quickly. I rather enjoyed it."
"Your Majesty... I beg for your mercy. I want nothing, only their lives spared..." Sylas whispered.
"They've been chopped up and fed to the dogs," Isolde said impatiently.
This Sylas really knows how to hit a sore spot. Alaric has fled to the seas, and you still have to ask me to spare them? Aren't you just slapping me in the face?
Hearing this, Sylas looked as if struck by lightning. Through tear-filled eyes, he looked at her and asked softly, "You... you killed them?"