The Swordswoman's Revenge Story after Rebirth

Chapter 125 A Trap

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Priscilla turned to Vance, her face twisted in anger. “You handle this. He can’t go to the Parliamentary Library.”

Vance had initially been indifferent, but when his mother opposed it, he went along with her. Now that she was

silent, her son had found scourage, and Vance couldn't really say much. He shrugged and said, “If he wants

to go, let him. We can always get Braden a position later.”

Priscilla, aware of her son’s shortcomings-his lack of education, bad temper, and inability to thrive in the official

world-was not pleased. “What position can you get him? Can he really go to the Parliamentary Library? If not, a

useless post is no better than doing honest work.”

Isolde replied calmly, “He has no honest work to do anyway.”

Priscilla shot her a sharp glare. “What's that to you?”

Isolde raised an eyebrow, replying sarcastically, “What's it to me? You want him to have honest work, but

where's the money for it? Has Vance earned a single coin on his own?”

Vance slammed the table in frustration, startling Matilda, who had been eating. He yelled, “You were lucky to

have a good mother, but you ruined her! You're a curse on this family!”

Isolde didn’t get angry; she only smiled coldly. “Be careful, | have bad luck. You never know when I'll be the one

to bring your whole family down.”

Braden, already simmering with resentment, snapped at Isolde. He grabbed his bowl and hurled it at her,

shouting, “You little bitch! I'll kill you!”

Isolde stood her ground, watching the bowl fly toward her. She didn’t flinch, and the bowl crashed to the floor,

shattering.

Hattie rushed in, her hand landing with a loud slap on Braden’s face. “How dare you offend County Princess? Do

you think you have more than one life?”

Braden, enraged and humiliated, lunged at Hattie, but Priscilla stood up and grabbed his arm, glaring at Isolde.

“Are we supposed to have a pecking order in this family?”

Isolde stood up from the table, moving in front of Priscilla, towering over her by half a head. She smiled

disdainfully. “There's no order among people, but there is among character.”

With that, she motioned for Hattie and Hazel to follow her as she walked out.

Matilda, sensing that the only person who could stand up to Priscilla had just left, and that Priscilla was now

seething with anger, figured she would be the next target. She hurriedly stood and dragged Michelle away, not

bothering to finish her meal.

Priscilla, still seething with rage, swept her hand across the table, sending dishes flying and cra floor with a loud

noise, the food splattering everywhere in chaos.

Still fuming, Priscilla stormed off to Blesertin, with Vance following close behind.

‘ng to the

Martha stood up, glaring at Braden with cold malice. “If you want to stop that bastard from going to the

Parliamentary Library, break his legs. He won't dare fight back.”

Braden smirked “That's

G rond idan”

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Martha snorted. “It’s not a brilliant idea. Anyone could think of it. You're just too stupid to realize it. No wonder

you always lose.”

Braden glared at her. “I'm your brother, how dare you speak tolike that?”

“Well, what's it to you? You're useless,” Martha said as she turned to leave.

Braden grabbed her arm, stopping her. “It’s not easy to act within the house. How about you helpout, and I'll

make sure you're rewarded.”

Martha paused and then thought for a moment. “Alright, Ill help you, but you have to do something forin

front of grandmother.”

“What is it?”

“I'll tell you later,” Martha said with a sly grin.

“Okay, I'll agree. Tonight, helpbring him to Westville Hotel. I'll have someone waiting for him there,” Braden

said, pulling her out of the room.

Martha smirked. “If we're going out, there's no need for violence. It’s better to ruin his reputation entirely. Let

him forget about entering the official world after that.”

Braden’s eyes lit up. “Good. Ruining his reputation is much more final than harming him physically.”

Clark had made his decision that evening and felt a sense of relief. Many of his worries and hesitations were

gone. He had prepared for the worst-if Prudence didn’t support him, he'd find a place to live on his own. “Collin

was right; opportunities like this might only conce, and if he missed it, there'd be no turning back. He had to

think about his future, especially for his children.

“Clark, what are you thinking?” a voice interrupted his thoughts.

He looked up to see Martha walking in, smiling at him. He paused for a moment. Martha rarely spoke to him, and

this smile seemed completely out of character-she usually spoke to him with a condescending

tone.

“Nothing much. What's going on?” Clark didn’t show much enthusiasm. He knew her mood could shift quickly,

and he wasn't sure if this smile was genuine or if it hid another sharp remark.

Martha sat down in front of him, resting her chin on her hand. “Clark, | admire your courage tonight. | really do.”

Clark stayed silent, but his posture softened a bit, showing that he was less guarded now.

Martha continued, “I've always looked down on you for being so obedient to grandmother and mother, for

lacking any true male backbone. But tonight, seeing you stand firm, even against grandmother, | owe you an

apology.”

She stood up, bowing deeply to him. “I'm sorry.”

Clark smiled and gently placed his hand on her wrist. “We're family. No need for such formalities.”

Martha chuckled and mischievously winked at him. “You're not mad at me?”

“How could | be?” Clark smiled warmly.

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Martha sighed with relief, a sweet smile spreading across her face. She moved closer and hooked her arm

around his. “Tomorrow, you're reporting to the Parliamentary Library, right? We should celebrate! Lettreat

you to a drink.”

Clark smiled, touched by her gesture. “There's no need for that. Your support means enough to me.

“Con, don’t be so formal. If you don’t lettreat you, I'll never forgive you, Martha pouted, looking as

though she might cry.

“Alright, alright,” Clark relented, laughing. “But just a little. | have to be sharp tomorrow morning

“Just a little, then,” Martha said. “Actually, we don’t have to drink much. | just want to talk to you. I've got things

to say, but mother would get upset if she knew. So, let's go out. | really need to talk.”

Clark looked at her pleading face, noticing how different it was from her usual arrogant demeanor. It was almost

cute. He smiled and said, “Alright, let's go for a walk.

“Great! I'll just change and be right back,” Martha said excitedly.

As Martha hurried out of the room to prepare, Clark smiled warmly to himself, his heart feeling lighter. Maybe,

after all, his family wasn’t as bad as he had thought.

Martha returned to her room, changed quickly, and after sunsuccessful attempts at choosing a hairpin, went

to Nicole's room to ask for one.

Nicole, still recovering from stomach pain, was resting on her chaise lounge. When she saw Martha bustling

about, she asked, “Where are you going?”

“To accompany Clark to Westville Hotel,” Martha replied, rummaging through her jewelry box. She found a gold-

and-emerald hairpin and smiled. “I'll wear this one.”

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