CHAPTER 232: RAFINE’S FIRST MEETING WITH ISABELLA

"Princess, do you know where Nolan went?"

Sitting on the sofa, Rafine held her teacup while looking at Elina in front of her.

Elina took a sip of tea, then shook her head. "I don’t know where he went. He didn’t say anything to me."

Rafine pouted, clearly dissatisfied with that answer. She took another sip of tea before complaining, "Why is he always so ignorant? Doesn’t he think about your feelings?"

"Pfft!" Elina chuckled. "Don’t take this the wrong way, Young Lady Rafine. My brother may look ignorant, but that’s only on the surface. In truth, he’s the most caring and sensitive person. He’s just very good at hiding his feelings, so others only see what he wants them to see."

Having grown up with Nolan, Elina knew her brother well. His heart was soft, and he always cared about others.

She still remembered when they visited a Viscount’s manor in the north. A little girl had been bullied by noble children, and her brother had kicked them until they cried.

That memory was firmly etched in her mind, making her even more certain that her brother was truly kind—though he never showed it openly.

Listening to Elina’s words, Rafine fell silent. Despite Nolan’s annoying attitude, he was indeed kind and caring.

The sacrifice he made on the ship was clear proof of that.

Just then, footsteps echoed outside Elina’s room. Moments later, the door opened, and an extraordinarily beautiful woman appeared.

Elina and Rafine immediately turned their heads, surprised to see who it was—Isabella.

"Mother?" Elina stood up in shock. "Do you need something from me?"

Rafine also looked at Isabella curiously. Ever since she started living in the palace with Elina, she had never met her in person.

It wasn’t that Isabella didn’t want to meet her, but rather that Rafine was too shy. That strange feeling always rose within her, as if she were about to face a future mother-in-law, making her hesitate to meet.

And now, with Isabella suddenly standing before her, panic spread through Rafine’s body.

Isabella smiled gently as she slowly stepped inside.

"I’m not disturbing you, am I?" She asked softly, her eyes shifting between Elina and Rafine in the middle of the room.

"Of course not, Mother," Elina replied with a sweet smile. "So, do you need anything from me?"

Isabella gave a small nod. "Yes. I came to tell you that your father has called you to his study. He wants to ask you something."

"Father?" Elina’s eyebrows lifted slightly. "Do you know what he wants to talk about?"

"I don’t know," Isabella said with a shake of her head. "But I heard it’s related to your brother. You should go right away."

Elina’s expression turned serious as she gave a small nod.

"Thank you for telling me, Mother. I’ll go now."

She turned to Rafine and said, "Please wait here for a moment, Young Lady Rafine. You can chat with my mother while I’m away."

"Wait—" Rafine tried to stop her, but Elina had already dashed out of the room.

In an instant, the room fell silent, leaving only Rafine and Isabella.

Cold sweat broke out on Rafine’s back as nervousness washed over her.

"So you’re Rafine? It seems the rumors were true—you really are beautiful," Isabella’s soft voice broke her reverie.

Rafine quickly composed herself and put on a polite smile.

"Thank you for your compliments, Concubine Isabella. Compared to you, I am nothing."

Her words were not empty pleasantries but sincere from the heart. Isabella was truly perfect. Her figure was tall and slender, with elegant, alluring curves.

Her long black hair was tied in a simple bun, yet it added to her graceful appearance. A gentle yet captivating aura radiated from her, making anyone feel at ease in her presence.

Her purple eyes sparkled like sapphires. If they had been born in the same era, Rafine was certain that the title of the most beautiful woman would never belong to her, but to Isabella.

No wonder His Majesty is so deeply in love with her, she whispered in admiration.

Isabella covered her mouth with the back of her hand and gave a soft chuckle.

"You flatter me too much. I’m already far older than you."

She walked over and sat down in the spot Elina had occupied before.

Rafine sat back in her seat, trying to suppress the anxiety building inside her.

Isabella crossed one leg over the other and rested her chin in the palm of her right hand.

"By the way, I heard from Elina that you came to the palace to take care of my son. Is that true?" she asked, a teasing glint in her eyes.

Rafine’s face flushed red. She bit her lower lip and stammered, "T-That’s right, Concubine Isabella."

She wasn’t sure how Isabella would react, but to her relief, there was no sign of anger.

Instead, Isabella simply smiled and gave a small nod, as if satisfied with the answer.

"Then, can you tell me how your encounter with my son went? I’d like to hear it."

Rafine exhaled in relief and returned a gentle smile.

"Of course, Concubine Isabella!"

...

On the battlefield, the clash between the Valmire family and the Black Wings raged fiercely.

Both sides were evenly matched and refused to yield. One moment, the Valmire soldiers managed to push back the Black Wings, only to be forced back the next.

It was no surprise—both armies possessed immense strength and undeniable combat experience.

At the center of the battlefield, Aston and Galian were locked in a heated duel.

Both wielded swords, and the sharp clang of their blades echoed across the field.

Clang!

Aston swung his sword to the right, but Galian blocked the strike with ease.

"Hahaha! I didn’t expect the head of the Valmire family to be this strong. Were you a soldier or a general in the past?" Galian asked with a faint smile.

Aston answered with a calm smile. "As expected of the Black Wing leader—your eyes are sharp."

Aston’s large, powerful build was not a gift of birth but the result of relentless training since childhood. Back then, he dreamed of becoming a general of the Empire, leading armies onto the battlefield and earning a place among the heroes of history.

To realize his dream, he relentlessly honed his sword and spear skills while training his body to its peak.

He even had his father invite swordsmen and war strategists from various kingdoms and empires, proof of how determined he was to become a war general.

Unfortunately, fate was not on his side. At twenty, his father passed away, and he was forced to inherit the title of Marquis Valmire.

Even so, Aston never regretted it. He might have failed to become a general, but his strength and training were still useful—to protect the people he cared about and to face anyone who dared to threaten his family, just as he was doing now.

Clang!

Galian twisted his body and swung his sword in a wide arc, but Aston blocked the strike.

The blow’s force was so great that Aston staggered back two steps.

"What’s wrong, Aston Valmire?" Galian taunted, raising his sword. His right eye flashed with playful lightning as he challenged, "Come on, unleash your full strength and prove which of us is stronger!"