Chapter 165: Roast that bitc**h.
Ren’s smile vanished, replaced by a mask of terror so convincing it could’ve won a battle. Her eyes widened, her voice trembling with false desperation. "Oh, sister... please! Not now. Don’t tell them. We’re at war. I had to behave like that because you know, my husband is too brutal. He beats me."
Arkilla hardly killed her laughter. But, unbelievably this little wench was touched!
Araben’s eyes sparkled with cruel delight. She yanked her hands back and cast a smug glance at her mother, who stood a few paces away, offering bitter smiles and brittle greetings to the other royals.
"Fine," Araben said, her voice dipped in poison. "I won’t. No, maybe, if your husband begs me, I rethink."
"I’ll talk to him. Please, just don’t tell anybody."
She gave her a wicked nod and left.
Ren turned back toward the gathering, resuming her greetings with a grace only years of discipline could provide. There was a reason that many noble families loved Ren more than Araben. The luxurious hag didn’t even bother to greet elders. But Ren’s gaze drifted, narrowing on Lora from across the hall, climbing the steps. The poor girl flinched and stumbled behind Araben, too scared to breathe without permission.
Ren clenched her jaw. She’ll be out of her hands soon. But not yet. This had to be done right. She would not simply take Lora. She would dismantle Araben piece by piece. Let her feel the world fall like ash around her.
"Poor maiden," Gloria murmured beside her, releasing a breath heavy with sympathy and restrained fury.
"Your Grace, you should’ve let me break her arms," Arkilla growled under her breath. "She wouldn’t be so bold once she knew what real pain felt like."
Ren didn’t flinch. Her smile curved slowly and wickedly. "Calm down. She deserves far worse than shattered bones... and she’ll get it. Just wait."