Chapter 116
Chapter 116
Nicolas glared at Matthew with obvious displeasure. Though Matthew looked resentful, he didn’t dare say another word.
Then, Nicolas, adopting a conciliatory tone, turned to Willow and said, “Willow, this matter did originate from you, and you were indeed at fault. I sentence you to be grounded in the memorial hall in solitary reflection for a day, no food, no water. Will you submit to this punishment p>
Willow choked out between sobs, “I am willing p>
She cast Nicolas a grateful glance before lowering her head.
Willow thought, “The Osborne family is coming for the betrothal the day after tomorrow. I absolutely can’t afford to be punished now p>
Nicolas coldly passed sentence on Danielle. “Eighty lashes with the cane, then banishment from the Monson family p>
Eighty lashes was a death sentence in itself.
This wasn’t a punishment at all, it was nothing short of a death sentence, a ruthless way to silence her forever.
As Danielle was dragged away screaming, Willow visibly let out a sigh of relief.
Athena gave a cold, mocking laugh. She’d seen this coming, but actually witnessing it still made her sick to her stomach.
Without another word, Athena whirled around and strode out with determined steps.
A sense of foreboding gripped Nicolas. Instinctively, he stepped forward and blocked Athena’s path, demanding sharply, “What do you think you’re doing p>
Athena halted, fixing Nicolas with a glacial stare. Her eyes were like ice as she bit out, “Move p>
Athena’s tone wasn’t forceful, if anything, it was almost flat.
But to Nicolas, it struck like a sledgehammer blow to the heart.
His heart sank like a stone, and an indescribable sense of oppression washed over him.
Seeing the disappointment in Athena’s eyes, Nicolas could no longer muster the courage to stop her.
Nicolas slowly lowered his arm. Without so much as a glance in his direction, Athena turned and strode out of the main hall.
After Athena left, Willow peered timidly after her, eyes brimming with confusion.
Given Athena’s temperament, she would never let Willow off so easily.
But Athena said nothing at all, she simply turned on her heel and walked away.
This was just too strange.
Eloise, oblivious to Willow’s distress, gently pulled her to her feet and patted her hand. “Go on,” she said softly, “spend some time in the memorial hall and seriously reflect on your actions p>
Relief washed over Eloise’s face.
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Chapte
Nicolas had shown leniency toward Willow. Though Athena was displeased, Eloise would go and comfort her.
Willow nodded gently at Eloise, then headed toward the memorial hall.
All the way to the memorial hall, Willow couldn’t shake the image of Athena’s icy stare from her mind.
That gaze was like icicles in the dead of winter, sending chills down her spine.
A maid escorted Willow to the memorial hall, then departed.
Willow fell on the cushion, her face still streaked with tears. Though her aggrieved sobs had subsided, intermittent droplets continued to fall, darkening small patches on her collar.
Her eyes were puffy and red, her gaze clouded with confusion and bewilderment.
Every time Willow recalled Athena’s icy stare, a chill ran down her spine.
‘Why can’t Athena ever accept me?‘ Willow wondered in frustration.
The question kept haunting Willow, like an invisible hand twisting her heart again and again.
Before she knew it, midnight arrived.
The memorial hall was filled with the musty scent of age. Inside, it was pitch–dark and eerily silent, the kind of place that sent shivers down your spine.
As the chill seeped into her very core, Willow couldn’t help but shiver. Slowly, she wrapped her arms around herself for
warmth.
A full day without food or water had left Willow’s throat parched and burning.
Her stomach growled hungrily. She licked her parched lips, squeezing her eyes shut to force away thoughts of food.
Just then, a faint sound came from the doorway.
Suddenly, a small cloth–wrapped bundle came rolling in from outside.
“Who’s there?” Willow called out warily, her voice barely above a whisper.
There was only silence outside.
After a moment’s hesitation, Willow cautiously approached and picked up the cloth bundle.
Inside was a sandwich and a small lamp.
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Sara Lili
Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.