Even Griffith must have sensed the absurdity of the situation–he no longer had the nerve to bring the iron ore in person.
Instead, he sent letters through messengers, claiming that Giselle’s child was underdeveloped, that the healer had said the baby
could not yet be born.
Skeptical, I took Stran with me to secretly observe Giselle from a distance in the Avalora Pack territory. He confirmed that she had not yet given birth; it wasn’t a false pregnancy. As for why the child hadn’t arrived, it was likely she had taken some kind of medicine to prolong the pregnancy.
“That kind of medicine won’t last long,” Stran said. “Ten days at most. She’ll give birth soon.”
He was right. On the ninth day, Giselle went into labor.
The moment it began, Griffith’s men came rushing to inform me. I wasted no time–I would finally avenge my children.
But by the time I arrived, it was already over. Giselle had given birth. She lay exhausted on the bed, utterly drained.
Griffith and his people surrounded the newborn, their faces glowing with joy. Not a single one of them spared a glance for the
mother, even though they all knew she was about to die at my hands.
I should have been thrilled. I should have felt the burning satisfaction of vengeance about to be fulfilled. Yet, standing there,
looking at the scene before me, the fire in my chest flickered and died down.
But that didn’t mean I would spare her.
I raised my weapon, aiming at her. “Do you have any last words?”
Giselle looked around at the indifferent faces, the people who no longer cared whether she lived or died. A single tear slid from
the corner of her eye.
“Don’t act like some righteous avenger,” she said, her voice hoarse.
“If you were me—an orphaned rogue with nothing, struggling to survive–if the Moon Goddess finally gave you a mate, someone to depend on, only for him to reject you and choose a woman nobler than you… wouldn’t you have gone mad, too?”
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Chapter 9
+15 BONUS
I met her gaze with an unreadable expression. “Your suffering doesn’t justify the pain you’ve inflicted on others.”
I released the arrow. It didn’t strike her heart.
In the end, I couldn’t bring myself to shoot again.
If Griffith had even the slightest bit of mercy for her, he could have ordered the healer to save her.
But he didn’t.
Hetast her a cold glance and then turned away, running after me instead.
No one else paid her any attention.
She lay there, watching her own blood seep into the sheets, feeling the last threads of life unraveling.
And in those final moments, she thought of the tiny flower shop where she had once settled down, the first place she had ever called home, the first job she had ever had.
How had she become so greedy?
How had it all gone so wrong?
Regret surged through her, but it was too late.
