Reborn To Change My Fate-Chapter 308 - Three Hundred And Seven

The next morning arrived with a pale, gray light. The sun was hidden behind a thick layer of winter clouds. Inside the grand Thompson estate, the atmosphere was quiet and heavy.

The maids and footmen walked softly, trying not to make any noise. Everyone knew about the terrible events that had happened in the courtyard the night before. They knew Carlos and Ashlyn had been cast out.

On the second floor, the door to Beatrice’s large bedroom opened slowly. The old matriarch stepped out into the hallway. She looked much older today. The stress and shame of the previous night had drawn deep lines around her mouth and eyes. She was dressed in a dark, high-necked gown made of heavy wool. It was a dress meant for mourning. 𝕗𝕣𝐞𝐞𝘄𝐞𝚋𝚗𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗹.𝚌𝕠𝚖

Marissa stood right beside her. Marissa was dressed in a simple, elegant dark blue dress. Her hair was neatly pinned in a low bun. She looked calm and respectful. She gently held Beatrice’s left arm, supporting the old woman’s weight. Beatrice held her thick wooden cane in her right hand.

Together, they began to walk toward the grand staircase.

They moved very slowly. Beatrice’s joints were stiff from the cold morning air and the shock to her heart. Marissa stayed close, matching the old woman’s slow pace perfectly. She made sure Beatrice did not lose her balance.

As they reached the top step, Beatrice let out a long, trembling sigh. She looked down at the polished wooden steps. Her eyes were filled with a deep, quiet sadness.

"The child Ashlyn carried," Beatrice spoke, her voice raspy and weak.

She paused, taking a difficult step down. Her cane tapped against the wood.

"The child was still a member of the Thompsons," Beatrice continued, her voice echoing softly in the empty, high-ceilinged hall. "Even though the parents were foolish and wicked, the unborn innocent did nothing wrong. It had our blood."

Marissa listened quietly. She carefully guided Beatrice down the next step. She did not interrupt. She knew how much family and bloodlines meant to the old woman.

Beatrice gripped her cane tighter. Her knuckles turned white.

"I wish to visit the grand temple today," Beatrice declared softly. "I want to hold a private memorial service for the child. A small prayer, just to guide the little soul to peace."

She stopped on the middle landing to catch her breath. She looked at the large portraits of the past Thompson ancestors hanging on the walls. Her eyes watered slightly.

"I am the head of this family’s inner court," Beatrice whispered, a tear escaping her wrinkled eye. "I need to answer to our ancestors. When I pass on and meet them, I must tell them I did not forget the lost child. I must show them respect."

They continued their slow walk down the remaining stairs. When they finally got to the foot of the stairs, they stopped on the smooth marble floor of the main hall.

Marissa turned to face the old woman. She looked at Beatrice’s tired, sad eyes. Marissa felt a wave of genuine respect for her. Despite the anger and the betrayal Carlos had caused, Beatrice still cared about the innocent life that was lost.

Marissa reached out her free hand. She gently placed it over Beatrice’s cold, wrinkled hand that was resting on the cane.

"Grandmother," Marissa spoke. Her voice was warm, soft, and deeply comforting.

She looked directly into Beatrice’s eyes, showing her absolute sincerity.

"Please, don’t grieve too deeply," Marissa advised gently. "The child is at peace now, far away from the pain of this world. But you are still here with us. Your health matters more than anything. If you fall ill from sorrow, the family will suffer greatly."

Beatrice looked at Marissa. She saw the genuine care in the young Duchess’s face. She remembered how Marissa had stood strong the night before, protecting the family’s dignity. She realized that Marissa was the true pillar of the Thompson house now.

Marissa offered a small, reassuring smile.

"I will arrange the carriage immediately," Marissa promised. "And I will go with you to the temple. You should not go alone. I will stand by your side and pray with you."

Beatrice felt a warmth spread through her tired chest. The heavy burden on her shoulders felt a little lighter. She smiled. It was a weak smile, but it was real.

She lifted her hand from the cane and gently patted Marissa’s hand.

"You are a good child, Marissa," Beatrice whispered kindly. "The Thompsons are very lucky to have you. Derek is a lucky man.Thank you."

Far away from the warmth and safety of the Thompson estate, the capital city was waking up. The streets were noisy and crowded.

Merchants were opening their stalls. Carts filled with vegetables and firewood rolled over the rough cobblestones.

In the middle of this busy morning, Ashlyn was walking aimlessly.

She looked like a ghost. Her beautiful face was covered in dirt and dried blood. Her expensive silk dress was torn into ragged strips. She had no cloak to protect her from the biting morning wind. She hugged her arms tightly across her chest, shivering violently with every step she took.

People on the street stared at her. Women pointed and whispered behind their hands. Men looked at her with disgust and moved out of her way. They thought she was a crazy beggar or a criminal who had been punished.

Ashlyn kept her head down. She looked at her bare, dirty feet hitting the cold stones. She had lost her shoes somewhere in the night. Every step sent a sharp pain shooting up her legs, but she kept walking. She had nowhere to stop. She had nowhere to sit.

She could not go back home.

The thought of her father’s house made her stomach twist in a painful knot. She knew her father. He was a strict, calculating man who only valued his children if they were useful to him. He only cared about power and money.

In the past, Ashlyn was his favorite because she was the child of his beloved. But things had changed. Marissa had completely outsmarted them. Marissa had legally taken back her mother’s house and the massive dowry that their father had stolen. Her father had lost a huge amount of wealth.

Ever since that day, her father had been furious. He had been angry with Ashlyn, screaming at her and terming her a complete failure. He told her she was useless because she could not control Carlos or match Marissa’s power.