Her Gilded Revenge For Stolen Fate novel Chapter 31

Chapter 31

Daphne kept Vivian, Celia, and Flora in Greenwood Palace to have a meal.

Before they had finished eating, a royal attendant arrived, his face plastered with a polite smile.

Judging by his attire, Vivian could tell he was a high–ranking steward.

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The royal attendant said, “Consort Daphne, a shipment of deer has just arrived from the north. The royal physicians have brewed a special mead with deer blood and antlers, said to be good for your health.

“His Majesty will come to Greenwood Palace tonight to share it with you.”

Vivian’s eyes flickered. She knew this was the same blood mead that had ruined Daphne’s previous life.

After the attendant left, Celia flashed a sweet smile. “Aunt Daphne, His Majesty is so good to you. He always thinks of you.”

Flora nodded in agreement.

Blood mead might not be particularly rare, but the king had taken the trouble to send it to Greenwood Palace himself to share with Daphne. That showed how much he cared about her.

For a noblewoman to live well in this cold and merciless palace, she could rely on only two things: her family background and the king’s favor. The latter was what mattered the most.

Even though the Grand Chancellor held a high position at court, he could not interfere in the king’s private life and rarely had the chance to see Daphne.

Therefore, Flora worried that if Daphne suffered any grievances, there would be no one to confide in.

Seeing the king treat Daphne with such care today, she finally relaxed.

Vivian’s long lashes trembled. Suddenly, she turned to Flora. “Mother, I had a dream last night.”

“What kind of dream?” Flora asked, a little puzzled. Vivian was usually reserved and quiet. It was unusual for her to mention a dream here.

Vivian continued, “I dreamed of a stag running wildly through the forest. It came across a couple. The husband ate the stag’s flesh and drank its blood; his cheeks flushed, full of life and vigor.

“The wife was struck in the abdomen by the stag’s head. She clutched her stomach, crying out in pain. When she looked down, she realized she’d miscarried.

“I don’t know why I dreamed of a stag. I just heard the mead included deer blood, and it reminded me of my dream.”

Vivian looked innocent, but Daphne’s face darkened. She was clearly furious.

Everyone knew that ten years ago, when she had shielded the king from a blade, the wound in her abdomen had left her unable to bear children.

For Vivian to mention a miscarriage in front of her, and to excuse it as a dream, was clearly an insult.

“Aunt Daphne, please don’t be angry. Vivian didn’t mean to offend you,” Celia said, putting down her fork and pouring Daphne a cup of coffee, looking genuinely concerned.

But out of Daphne’s sight, she curled her lips into a schadenfreude–filled, triumphant smile.

Celia never expected that Vivian would be foolish enough to hit such a sore spot in front of Daphne.

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She thought Vivian had grown too accustomed to smooth sailing, lost all sense of boundaries, and forgotten her place.

“Consort Daphne…” Flora frowned, looking at Daphne with guilt and pleading, her eyes glistening with tears.

Daphne remembered that Vivian had recently asked Hadley to save Simon, and her anger eased slightly.

Although Vivian had been rude to her, she had done a great favor for Flora.

Daphne closed her eyes and, with great effort, held back the fury rising in her chest. She forced a smile. “Vivian, it seems you didn’t sleep well. You’d better go home and rest.”

She was telling them to leave.

Flora quickly grasped Vivian’s wrist and bid Daphne farewell.

Back at Aurea Manor, Celia went to the front courtyard to pay her respects to Quentin. Sylvia happened to be there as well.

Quentin was writing something while Sylvia had prepared the ink for him. They looked every bit the perfect couple.

Seeing Celia, Sylvia’s eyes lit up.

“Father, Sylvia,” Celia said, bowing in respect

“How was your visit to Consort Daphne today?” Quentin asked.

In recent years, Quentin had come to value Daphne more and more. He hoped she would speak well of him to the king and help elevate his status.

Celia shook her head, her voice trembling. “Aunt Daphne was angry.”

Quentin froze, a sense of foreboding rising in him. He hurriedly asked, “What happened?”

“It’s nothing,” Celia said, putting on a troubled, hesitant expression.

Seeing her like this, Quentin Daphne.

mediately realized that Vivian had caused trouble in Greenwood Palace and angered

Quentin trembled with rage. He couldn’t understand how he had ended up with such a disobedient daughter. Vivian was not only unattractive and incapable of contributing to the Snyder family, she also constantly stirred up trouble.

He silently blamed Flora for being foolish, insisting on registering and raising Vivian as her own daughter. Such a willful child could only damage the Snyder family’s reputation.

“Celia, what exactly happened? Tell me the truth. Don’t hide a single thing from me,” Quentin said sternly.

Celia acted like she was too scared to lie.

She said, “Everything was fine at first, but while we were eating at Aunt Daphne’s place, the chief royal attendant arrived and announced that His Majesty would share blood mead with Aunt Daphne tonight.

“Vivian had a nightmare last night, and it involved a stag. Hearing that the mead had deer blood in it, she told everyone about her dream. She dreamed of a pregnant woman being gored by a stag and having a miscarriage.”

By the end, Celia started sobbing. “You know, Aunt Daphne was injured before and can never have children. Vivian saying something like that is just like rubbing salt in her wound.”

“How dare she?” Quentin was livid. He slammed the ink bottle on the desk, shattering it into pieces.

“Your Grace, please calm down. Anger is bad for your health,” Sylvia exclaimed, gently touching Quentin’s chest, her guilt

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written all over her face.

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“It’s all my fault. Vivian is my daughter, and yet I failed to raise her properly,” she cried. “Now she’s caused trouble for the Snyder family. I wish I could give my life to make up for her mistakes.”

Quentin knew Sylvia bore no responsibility for this. To him, it was all Vivian’s own foolishness that had planted this disaster.

He couldn’t understand how such a sensible, well–mannered woman like Sylvia could have such a stupid, ungrateful daughter.

For now, he only hoped that Daphne, for the sake of Flora and Celia, would not make an issue out of Vivian’s behavior.

If Daphne insisted on pursuing it, he would send Vivian to become a nun. That way, Daphne could hardly hold them accountable, and the Snyder family’s reputation would remain intact.

Having made up his mind, Quentin took Sylvia’s hand and sighed. “Sylvia, Vivian is so willful. I have no choice but to teach

her a lesson. Don’t blame me.”

Sylvia shook her head through tears and nestled against him.

“It is only right for a father to discipline his daughter,” she said. “Your Grace, you’re only thinking of Vivian’s best interests. As her mother, how could I possibly blame you?”

“I’ll go tell Mother about this, so she doesn’t blindly defend Vivian,” Quentin said.

Quentin still couldn’t understand it. Vivian had no redeeming qualities, yet Beatrice and Flora seemed bewitched by her, doting on her even more than they did on Celia.

Quentin shook his head. He had never hurt Flora out of favoritism for Sylvia, yet Beatrice and Flora had acted foolishly.

The more he thought about it, the more he believed that there was something uncanny about Vivian.