Chapter 2 She Is Also My Lady

• When Elinor opened her eyes again, she found herself face to face with William—half-dressed in armor, kneeling before her.
• His voice was soft. “The Pope has given his blessing. Isabella will become my wife, just like you. We’ll live together.”
• Elinor clutched her chest—no wound. No blood. No pain. Just confusion… and a flood of emotions. Had she come back to life? She was reborn when the Pope had just given the order for Isabella and William to marry！
• That was to say, there was still a chance to salvage everything.
• When Elinor realized this fact, she was so excited that she almost wanted to weep.
• But she couldn't. She couldn't show any slightest difference in front of William because it might jeopardize her next plans.
• God had given her a second chance, and she must cherish it and use it to change her fate, so that the wicked would get what they deserved!
• She forced herself to calm down. God gave me another chance.
• She clenched her fists as fragments of her previous life returned—the way William had begged her to let him marry Isabella.
• She had believed him then. Believed in equality, in love, in his words. But it had all been a lie. Isabella had always meant more to him.
• A flicker of resentment passed through Elinor’s eyes, but she quickly masked it.
• She looked at him coldly. “The Pope once said Baroness Isabella was the model knight and the embodiment of noblewomanly virtue. So… is she content with being your mistress?”
• William’s expression darkened. “No. Of course not. She’s not a mistress. She’s also my lady—just like you.”
• Just like me? Elinor nearly laughed. This hypocrite has no shame.
• Suppressing her fury, she said flatly, “William, you’re only lying to yourself. Everyone knows she’s your mistress.”
• His voice turned sharp. “So what if she is? We fought side by side. We risked our lives together. Our bond was forged in blood. I don’t need your permission to marry her.”
• She tilted her head, mocking him. “Do you remember what you told me the night before you went to war?”
• He froze.
• It was only a year ago—they had been married in the castle chapel. That night, he lifted her veil and said solemnly:
• “Under this moonlight, I, William von Hohenzollern, vow to love only Elinor de Clermont for the rest of my life. My heart will never change.”
• How laughable. She had believed in that promise. She thought a man’s heart would be as constant as the moon.
• She had even tolerated Isabella later, sharing her husband just to stay by his side.
• Foolish Elinor. So innocent. So blind.
• William looked uncomfortable, avoiding her gaze. “I was young. I didn’t understand love back then. But now I do—now I’ve met Isabella.”
• His voice grew warm, tender. “You wouldn’t understand. She’s unlike any woman I’ve ever met. The only female knight to be made a baroness through her own merits. You know how strong she is. I love that about her. I hope you can support us.”
• Elinor felt her throat tighten with an icy knot.
• “Do your parents approve?” she asked.
• He nodded confidently. “Of course. The Pope gave his blessing. And everyone in the Hohenzollern family adores Isabella. She even just visited our mother.”
• “Elinor smiled bitterly. Just like before. No matter what she did, she could never warm those hearts.
• “And where is she now?” she asked.
• “She’s with my mother,” William said fondly. “They’ve bonded already. Even my mother’s health has improved since meeting her.”
• Elinor’s heart twisted.
• “When you went to war,” she said, “Mother was terribly ill. I stayed up for nights, managing the castle by day and nursing her by night. It wasn’t a miracle—it was my care that helped her recover.”
• She wasn’t trying to boast—just to vent the bitterness inside her.
• And yet, William didn’t seem to hear it.
• He simply said, “Now that Isabella’s here, she’s doing even better.” He reached out, almost pleading. “Elinor, I know I’ve hurt you. But please—for my mother’s sake, support our love.”
• Elinor’s eyes sharpened. “Then bring Isabella here. I’d like to speak with her.”
• William immediately refused. “No. Elinor, she’s not like the noble ladies you know. She grew up on the battlefield. She despises our customs and might not even be polite to you. Why put yourself through that?”
• Elinor’s smile turned cold. “What kind of women do you think I know? Have you forgotten who I am? I’m a daughter of the Clermont family—a house with generations of military glory. All five of my brothers died in battle for this kingdom.”
• “That was them,” William interrupted. “You’re just an ordinary noblewoman. Isabella’s not used to your type. She might insult you without meaning to.”
• Tears welled in Elinor’s eyes, glimmering like blood. But her voice remained calm—steely with conviction.
• “It’s fine,” she said. “If she insults me, I’ll pretend not to hear it. A countess must see the bigger picture, must be gracious, composed. Don’t you trust me, William?”