Reborn To Change My Fate-Chapter 228 - Two Hundred And Twenty Seven

The last cloud of dust settled on the road, marking the path where the army had marched. The sun rose up to the sky, increasing the warmth of the day.

Marissa stood at the open gate, her hand still raised in a silent wave, long after the black mare and its rider had vanished from sight.

The courtyard was empty now. The wagons were gone. The soldiers were gone. Even the stable boys had retreated to their quarters.

The silence felt heavy. It was a physical weight, a void left by the departure of the army and, more importantly, her husband.

A small, genuine smile lingered on her lips, a warm remnant of his shouted declaration. "I love you, Mari!"

She replayed the sound of his voice in her head. She held onto it like a shield against the coming cold.

She turned slowly. Her silk skirts rustled on the gravel. She walked back toward the grand entrance of the manor. The heavy oak doors stood open, a dark mouth leading into the belly of the estate.

She stepped across the threshold.

The warmth evaporated instantly. The air inside the foyer was cool and still. The servants had lit the chandeliers, but the light seemed dim compared to the sun outside.

Ashlyn was waiting for her.

She stood in the exact center of the grand foyer. She had positioned herself perfectly under the crystal chandelier to catch the light. She was dressed in a gown of deep emerald green, a color that clashed violently with the somber mood of the house. It was a dress meant for a party, not a departure.

Ashlyn held a silk fan in her hand. She fluttered it slowly, rhythmically, against her chest.

Marissa’s expression changed instantly. The softness vanished. The look of a woman in love was replaced by the cool, impassive mask of the Grand Duchess. Her eyes narrowed slightly.

"Ashlyn," Marissa acknowledged. Her voice was flat.

Ashlyn didn’t bow. She didn’t curtsy. She didn’t offer the respect due to the head of the house. She simply smiled. It was a smug, satisfied expression that sat on her face like a layer of grease. It didn’t reach her eyes.

"Ranking the best or most powerful means nothing, sister," Ashlyn said. Her voice dripped with condescension.

She took a step forward. Her fan snapped shut with a loud click.

"In the end," Ashlyn lectured, "it is about survival. And opportunity. You think Derek is a hero because he rides a horse. I think he is a fool who walked into a trap."

She gestured vaguely toward the door where Derek and Carlos had just left.

"My husband," Ashlyn announced, puffing out her chest, "eventually got a good title. The Prince himself granted it. A military supervisor position."

She said the words as if Carlos had been crowned King.

She moved closer to Marissa, invading her personal space. She smelled of heavy, floral perfume that tried to mask the scent of her earlier desperation.

"He is in charge of the river barges," Ashlyn continued, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "The lifeline of the army. He holds the keys to their survival. Without him, Derek’s army starves. Carlos holds the real power now."

Marissa looked down at her sister. She didn’t step back. She held her ground, her gaze boring into Ashlyn’s.

"His Grace," Marissa replied, her voice calm but laced with steel, "earned honor through his capabilities. Through years of service. Through blood spilled on the snow."

She tilted her head, her expression one of mild disdain.

"Unlike some," Marissa added, "who cling to power for empty titles handed out like favors to silence a beggar."

She looked at Ashlyn’s proud face.

"A supervisor of barges is not a commander, Ashlyn," Marissa said coldly. "It is a glorified shipping clerk. He counts sacks of grain while my husband commands men. Do not confuse the cart with the horse."

Ashlyn flinched. The insult hit its mark. Her smile tightened, the edges cracking.

"When my husband becomes a high official," Ashlyn hissed, her fan tapping angrily against her palm. "When he returns victorious... rising rapidly through the ranks because of his contribution..."

"If he rises rapidly," Marissa interrupted, cutting her off mid-sentence. "I don’t know about that. He is more likely to fall into the river."

Marissa leaned in. Her voice dropped to a dangerous whisper.

"But Ashlyn," Marissa said.

Ashlyn paused, wary of the shift in tone.

"You seem to have forgotten something in your excitement," Marissa said. "You owe me a thousand silvers."

Ashlyn went silent. Her mouth snapped shut. Her eyes widened.

The mention of the debt was a bucket of ice water. She had forgotten. In her excitement over Carlos’s new "position," in her joy at seeing him leave with the Prince’s token, she had forgotten that she was financially ruined.

Marissa continued, her voice relentless.

"The debt is due in less than twenty days," Marissa reminded her. "The interest is accumulating daily. I have the papers. I have the signatures."

Marissa looked at the emerald dress Ashlyn was wearing.

"Better think carefully how you will repay me," Marissa advised. "Your mother’s estate is on the line. That house is the only thing standing between her and the street."

Marissa smiled. It was a shark’s smile.

"And I am not known for my patience with debtors," Marissa said. "I will not extend the deadline by a single hour. If you do not pay, I will collect that estate myself."

Ashlyn trembled. She gripped her fan so hard the wood creaked. She had no money. Carlos had taken everything.

Marissa straightened up. She smoothed her dress. She was done with this conversation. She was done with Ashlyn.

"I have a household to run," Marissa said.

She walked past her sister. As she did, she deliberately brushed against Ashlyn’s shoulder—a hard, intentional bump.

"Get out of the way," Marissa muttered, not stopping. "Don’t intensify my already ruined day."

She walked toward the stairs, her back straight, her steps echoing on the marble. She left Ashlyn standing alone in the center of the grand foyer.

Ashlyn watched her leave. She rubbed her shoulder where Marissa had hit her. It stung.

Her eyes burned with a mixture of hatred and anticipation.

The house was quiet. The heavy front doors were closed and Derek was gone. The guards were reduced.

It was just the two of them now. Two sisters. Two enemies. Two women who remembered a past that no one else knew.

"Derek is finally gone," Ashlyn whispered to the empty hall.

A slow, cruel smile spread across her face. The fear of the debt faded, replaced by the thrill of the game.

"Marissa," she murmured, staring at the empty staircase where her sister had vanished. "Now only we two remain in this estate. The protector is away. The wolf is at the door."

She snapped her fan open again. Click.

She fluttered it, cooling her flushed face.

"Since we are both reborn," Ashlyn whispered, her voice a promise of violence.

"Let’s see who wins this time," she said to the shadows. "Let’s see who burns."

She turned and walked toward the west wing, her mind already spinning with new plans, new traps, and new ways to make her sister pay before the debt came due.