Her Majestic Battle Cry
Her Majestic Battle Cry Chapter 397

Chapter 397

Randall wiped his tears and approached Rafael, wanting to ask something. However, Yuvan cut him off with a loud command.

“Didn’t you hear them? They think we bring bad luck because we’re in mourning! Hurry up and leave!”

Tears streamed down Randall’s face again. He gave Rafael and Carissa a salute, his tall, thin figure swaying as he staggered away.

Yuvan’s other children all made a noise of discontent and left. Only Fiona managed to maintain her composure.

She bowed to Helen, and said, “Take care, Lady Helen. I’ll be taking my leave.”

As Fiona left, she cast a few significant glances at Violet, who responded with a dismissive roll of her eyes.

Helen remained in a state of bewilderment throughout the encounter. She had just been conversing pleasantly with them. They had appeared polite and well–spoken. How could they turn out to be so heartless?

Avis was dead, and only Randall had shown any sign of grief. The others wore faces devoid of any visible sorrow. Especially the two young women, who were Avis‘ own daughters, had allowed their mother to die alone at Verdant Monastery.

Helen shivered at the thought. Now that she had left the palace, she relied on her son and daughter–in–law for support when she was old. She knew they would have to remain respectful to her according to the kingdom’s culture and law, and wouldn’t dare to treat her this way.

But what if they did dare? Rafael was her only hope.

With this in mind, she quickly stood up and joined Carissa in condemning Yuvan’s family, calling them heartless and wishing them ill.

Afterward, she gently patted Carissa’s back and said, “Don’t let those despicable people upset you. Lady Avis will have her revenge from beyond the grave. They will get what they deserve. Don’t be too troubled.”

Carissa was initially consumed by anger and distress, but she found herself somewhat comforted by her mother–in–law’s attempt to placate her. She had been trying to cry but could not shed tears, and her face revealed her complex emotions.

Despite everything, she felt a little better and less angry

“There you go. Go take a bath. We need to go to the palace later,” Helen coaxed, treating Carissa like a child.

Helen turned to see Rafael standing idly, and took on the demeanor of a stern mother.

“Why are you just standing there? Take your wife back to your room. Look at her hands–they’re ice–cold. Show a little care for Carissa!”

Rafael was momentarily taken aback. His mother had never spoken to him in such a manner before.

She used to scold him when he was younger, but since he took up the martial arts and military duties,

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Helen had found herself increasingly… intimidated?

Regardless, the relationship between mother and son had grown more distant. Aside from formal greetings and pleasantries, they had little else to say.

After Rafael received his title and established his own residence, their interactions became even more distant. They were either excessively polite, or marked by an underlying desire for him to leave quickly.

Reprimanding him like this was something that hadn’t happened in years.

He gave his mother a brief glance before taking Carissa’s hand and leading her back to their room. Helen resumed her seat, pondering over her actions. Had she really been so stern with her son?

Rafael hadn’t shown any of the fearsome demeanor she might have expected. Clearly, marriage had mellowed him. He seemed much gentler now.

Noticing Violet sitting there, visibly upset, Helen’s heart ached. She wasn’t closely acquainted with Avis, but they had met many times over the years. Avis always appeared gentle and dignified, treating the palace staff with kindness.

To have died so tragically in a monastery, without even a tear shed by her own daughters–how miserable must her life have been?

Helen felt tears welling up. She choked out, “Was Lady Avis‘ passing peaceful?”

Violet replied, “With Sebastian’s apprentices present, she wasn’t in great pain. But if you call that peaceful, then it falls short.”

Helen murmured, “Yes, to die with neither children nor husband around–how terrifying that must have been.”

Helén found the thought of death to be the most frightening thing in life. To face death alone was the ultimate dread. She wished for someone to hold her hand, to offer comfort, and to whisper reassurances

in her ear.

Thus, she felt a deep empathy for Avis, because she herself feared the loneliness of dying alone.

Sighing, Helen tried to push these distressing thoughts away. After all, it was New Year’s Eve, and she didn’t want to dwell on such sorrowful matters.

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