Chapter eight

Chapter eight

Anna Forland watched Elizabeth helplessly.

The aura of the room was tense and confusing. Her shock kept her still, not even able to console Elizabeth who was crying an ocean before her.

How could the Viscount of Mareda die so suddenly?

Carol Garlesh however had the blonde wrapped in her arms, consoling her slowly with pity in her eyes and voice, "It's alright my love. Stop crying."

The lady in her arms looked up at her, her eyes sore from tears. Her voice came out as a faint whisper, "He was my father," she stated, as though nobody knew that.

The Duchess just stood there as well. Mother and daughter seemed confused, unaware of something befitting to do. Somehow they wanted to cry too but the news was as good as unbelievable.

Elizabeth had barged into the empire like a runaway bride, with her ankle length dress hovering above her feet, tears pouring from her eyes.

Her Coachman followed afterwards when he noticed the lady was too broken to say a word to the Forlands.

He ha