The Swordswoman's Revenge Story after Rebirth

truly want to help me, write her a divorce letter and send her away!”

Madilyn, hearing this, was equally enraged. “She dared to cinto your room and bark like that? That mad

dog! | told you to divorce her, Arthur, but you wouldn't listen! It's as if you can’t get a wife and are stuck with

this mess!”

Arthur was caught between the two women’s fury, his head feeling like it was going to explode. He sat, defeated,

with tears welling up. “Do whatever you want,” he said in a resigned tone. “I will never get involved in your

matters again.”

Cristina seethed, “You won't get involved? You've never done anything right. You lose your position, and now you

blme for it? Is there anyone as shameless as you? And you say I'm ungrateful? What about your gratitude to

your mother? She raised you, but you're not even her real son!”

Madilyn froze at Cristina’s words, then immediately snapped, “Shut your mouth! Don’t speak nonsense.”

Cristina retorted angrily, “I'm not talking nonsense. It's the truth.”

Arthur looked between his mother and Cristina, then glanced over at his father, who had been reading quietly in

the corner. August had put down his book and was now looking at them with a complicated expression.

“What is going on?” Arthur's heart turned cold. “Am | not her real son?” he thought.

No wonder Madilyn had never treated him as well as Cristina, always demanding he protect her. No wonder she

had never truly cared about his future.

“Don’t listen to Cristina’s ramblings,” Madilyn quickly interjected, trying to salvage the situation. “She’s just

confused and speaking nonsense.”

“Mother, why are you still hiding this from him? He's the child of a prostitute, born from a lowly background, and

even Isolde and Oliver are better off than him!” Cristina’s cruel words pierced through the

air.

Arthur stood there, stunned, his mind racing. A prostitute’s child?

He was a scholar, someone who had occasionally visited Vermelle Hall to discuss poetry with close friends. In his

mind, Vermelle Hall was a place of culture and grace, while a brothel was nothing but filth and corruption.

I'm the child of a prostitute?

August barked angrily, “Shut your mouth! What nonsense are you speaking? A prostitute? She comes from a

respectable family.”

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Chapter 403 Not Her Real Son

and walked out of the room.

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The world around him seemed to tilt, and he almost collapsed. The blow was worse than being dismissed by the

King.

A scholar, no matter his humble background, always prided himself on being from a respectable family. Now,

everything was shattered.

He knew he should ask more questions, but the courage had drained from him. He could already guess the

truth-that he was born to a prostitute, abandoned, and that his parents had taken him in and raised him.

They had given him life, but now, through his sister's actions, he had lost everything. Perhaps this was his

repayment to them.

But he couldn't accept his origin.

As he left the courtyard, everything around him seemed to spin. His servant rushed forward to support him, but

he waved him off weakly. “Let's go. | need to get sair.”

In the house, Madilyn glared at August, her voice filled with venom. “What? After all these years, you still have

feelings for that woman?”

August retorted angrily, “Watch your mouth. She was not s‘slut”.”

Madilyn coldly shot back, “She stole someone else’s husband! How is she not a ‘slut’? And after everything she

did, you still want to give her respect?”

August was too tired of the argument to fight back. He had learned over the years to keep quiet. He turned and

walked away.

Madilyn, however, was relentless. She followed him, demanding, “Stop right there. Say what you need to say

before you go.”

August turned back to her, frustrated. “What else is there to say? She was kicked out, and now she’s lost her

son. She's already suffered enough. What more do you want from her?”

“Suffered? Have | suffered enough?” Madilyn spat, her voice dripping with fury. “You think | didn’t suffer when

you were off having fun with her? You think | didn’t suffer raising that boy alone? He becan official, and you

think none of that was thanks to me? If it weren't for me, where would he be today?”

August sighed, “Fine, you're right. | have no argument.”

Madilyn smirked, “Of course, you can’t argue with me. Now, keep quiet about our son. His mother is a prostitute,

and she deserves to be called that.”

August, his patience wearing thin, raised his hand in anger. “Say that again, and I'll—"

Madilyn, seething with rage, shouted, “Go ahead, hit me! What are you waiting for? If you don’t strike me, you're

a coward.”

August paused, his resolve weakening as he looked at her furious face. Slowly, he dropped his hand, his voice

cold. “A scholar doesn’t fight with a madwoman.”

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Chapter 403 Not Her Real Son

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Cristina, sitting back casually, shrugged. “What trouble? Arthur's already lost his position, and we don’t need to

rely on him anymore.”

Madilyn sank into a chair, muttering to herself, “I wanted him to fight for me, but after all these years, | can’t just

ignore the mother-son bond. Seeing him lose his position hurtstoo. But he’s so useless-Agnes bullies him,

and he doesn’t even dare stand up to her. He's just like your father-a coward.”

Cristina smirked. “I won't leave the Valen family. I'm going to make sure | get what | deserve.”

Madilyn, after thinking for a moment, sighed. “I know, but there's no use in messing with Isolde. She's a tough

opponent.”

Cristina’s eyes glinted with determination. “Isolde will die by my hand eventually.”

Madilyn shook her head. “Don’t provoke her yet. She's dangerous.”

“I won't just provoke her. I'll go after Oliver too. | won't rest until | make him fall for me,” Cristina said defiantly.

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