"I don't judge you for your past work in the red-light district, Lady Beatrix," Alaric said, his voice even but cold. "Many women have had to make difficult choices to survive. What I judge you for is your cruelty to a child placed in your care."
Lady Beatrix remained frozen in place, her face ashen. The transformation from imperious stepmother to silent, shaken woman was remarkable. The power she had wielded over Isabella for years had evaporated in moments.
"I understand completely, Your Grace," she finally whispered, her eyes downcast.
I lingered in the doorway, watching this exchange with a strange mix of emotions. Part of me savored seeing Lady Beatrix humbled after years of her torment, but another part felt hollow. Revenge wasn't as sweet as I'd imagined during those long, lonely nights in my room.
Alaric continued, his tone lightening with mock friendliness. "Good! Then we'll be best friends in our mutual desire to keep Clara far away from Isabella."