Under current laws, this criminal certainly cannot be punished.
Therefore, when the law fails to bring justice to the victims, private revenge becomes legitimate and even noble from that moment on.
Cecil raised his gun, already imagining the scene that followed: blood would soak the steps completely, and this sinner would die before his very eyes.
Sishil suppressed the nausea in his throat, seemingly using all his strength, and once again, a gunshot rang out in the empty palace.
Because the gun itself wasn't very big, the recoil wasn't very strong. Cecil pressed his numb arm and looked at the nauseating blood all over the ground.
"Excuse me, where are my men now?" Cecil bowed and handed over the gun.
Bonal Irene curled her lips, took the pistol, and gently wiped the barrel with a handkerchief: "Someone, take him there."
The guards below dared not delay and stepped forward to lead Cecil out.
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A note from the author:
The queens of this period were generally quite young, so they didn't prioritize tasks and acted solely according to their own ideas. This is why the queens of this feudal Western European period did not live very long.
——
The quote about law and private revenge in the text comes from the Sherlock Holmes stories.
Chapter 126
As he passed the fountain pool outside, Cecil stopped and reached his hand into it.
Scooping up the cool pool water, Sehir bent down and splashed it on his face. Only after calming down did Sehir stop.
The guard in front was stunned for a moment, then quickly took out a handkerchief from his waist and handed it to Cecil.
Sehir paused for a second in confusion, then said softly, "Keep it, I don't need it."
The guard realized he had done something wrong and quickly lowered his head to apologize, wishing he could cut off his own head and hand it to Cecil right now.
"I'm sorry, Your Grace, I'm so sorry, I have children at home to raise, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to!"
Cecil was startled by the guard's sudden action. Looking at the head that was constantly bowing, he couldn't help but feel a slight pang in his heart.
“Don’t be afraid of me, I won’t do anything.” Cecil’s voice was soft as he turned and walked in front of the guards. “Where should we go next?”
The guard looked up, tears welling in his eyes. He stared at Cecil in disbelief. After a moment's hesitation, he quickly sat up and spoke anxiously.
"Just go straight."
The guard sniffed and walked up to Cecil. Whether it was his imagination or not, Cecil's back looked more energetic than before.
The guards in the prison had been cleared out, and just as the guards leading Sehir were about to go in, Sehir opened his mouth and said something.
"Just give me the key, you don't need to go in."
Upon hearing this, the guard obediently took out his key from his waist, bowed, and said, "Then I'll wait for you outside."
Sehir nodded, turned around, pushed open the door, and went inside.
As soon as you enter, you can feel a cool breeze coming from below. The surrounding stone walls are covered with candle wax dripping down, twisting and swirling on them like charred skin, which looks extremely disgusting.
As soon as he got down there, the prisoners who had been sitting in the cell rushed over to him like madmen, clinging to the bars, stretching out their hands, and opening their mouths, saying something incomprehensible.
These people had been deprived of food and water for a long time, and they had become so thin that they looked like they were being supported by tree branches. Cecil glanced at them and quickened his pace, walking towards the innermost part of the group.
The smell of blood was already strong, and it became even more pronounced as you went further in. It wasn't until you reached the door that Cecil, with trembling hands, unlocked it.
The person in front of me had their head hanging down, and the arm tied to the pillar had been cut into the flesh by the hemp rope. Blood and flesh were mixed together, and it was impossible to tell which part was intact.
Sehir tried to align the keyhole several times but couldn't. His heart felt like it was being twisted, constricted, and he couldn't breathe.
With great difficulty, the key finally went through the lock, and the moment the door opened, Cecil lifted his leg and rushed over.
At this moment, there was no sense of pleasure from revenge as he had imagined; instead, he felt more distress and disbelief that Isri was now hanging there, barely alive, right before his eyes.
If it were about revenge, he could easily stab someone right now, but that thought just won't cross his mind.
Sehir swallowed hard, his limbs feeling as cold as if he had just been taken out of an ice bucket.
“Isri…”
Sehir called out softly, but the person on the pillar remained motionless, his head still hanging limply.
The wounds on his chest were crisscrossed, old and new, making for a jarring sight.
After a pause, Hilton took out a dagger from the side and slowly cut the hemp rope that had already cut into his flesh.
After hesitating and rubbing back and forth, the person on the pillar finally reacted. Isri frowned, his eyes sticky with sweat and hard to open.
"who?"
Islam's voice was very hoarse; if you didn't listen carefully, you might mistake it for the voice of a middle-aged man.
“It’s me…” Cecil choked out, opening his mouth to respond, tears welling up in his eyes.
Why was he crying? He didn't know, and he didn't want to think about it.
Now he knows that the person in front of him is his only family, the only one who always sides with him and even loves him.
“Isri…it’s me…” Sehir hardened his heart and cut the rope with all his might.
Due to inertia, Isri fell directly to the side, his other arm being pulled by the rope, and Isri couldn't help but cry out in pain.
Sehir was startled by IE and quickly stood on tiptoe to support Isri's body: "Bear with it, I'll try to be as fast as I can."
“Young…Master…” Isri opened his mouth haltingly, “Okay…”
Cecil rested his head against Isri's neck to make Isri more comfortable, and the delicate scent of roses lingered around his nose.
Isri closed his eyes and leaned against Ceshir in a relaxed manner.
It really is the young master; he's here.
Isri curled his lips into a smile and tried to open his eyes. He wanted to see Ceshir, right now.
"Hmm..."
A muffled groan rang in his ears, and Isri's body also fell down with the force. Ceshir, who was already unsteady on his feet, fell directly to the ground with him.
In an instant, Isri was startled and tried to move away from Ceshir, but no matter how much he was conscious, his body remained unmoved and he could only fall heavily onto Ceshir.
"Don't move!" Cecil was also stunned by the fall, and it took him a long time to open his mouth and say something.
Upon hearing Sehir's command, Isri lay stiffly on Sehir's body, motionless.
Sehir exhaled, and with a burst of strength, rolled himself out from under himself, hooking one arm through Isri's arm and hanging Isri on his body.
“Young Master…” Isri called out in a deep voice, his vision blurry.
“Shut up,” Cecil commanded again. “I have many questions for you, and you’d better listen to me now.”
Sehir's words made Isri tense, and he lowered his head and stopped talking.
“Duke, let me do it.” The guards standing outside immediately reached out their hands as soon as they saw Cecil.
"No, please prepare a carriage for me."
Cesil refused the guard's offer and pulled Isri closer to him.
"yes!"
Cecil did not go to Bonal Irene. The matter was over, and the two could be said to have no connection anymore; it was better to keep a distance.
As soon as the carriage arrived, Cecil left the palace without stopping.
Isri leaned back in his seat, his eyes half-closed, watching Ceshir's back, whose body had finally regained some of its former plumpness.
What was there about him that made him worthy of being saved? He was nothing more than a dispensable servant.
Chapter 127
Despite the excruciating pain from the tearing wounds, every time I opened my eyes and saw Cecil's back, I felt much better.
Sehir did not bring Isri back to Hall; instead, Hall followed Sehir all the way back to the main house on the mountain.
Hall glanced at Isri’s wounds, then, without any mercy, hastily wrapped a blanket around him and hoisted him onto his shoulder.
Isri was startled and gasped, "Put me down!"
Hall tightened his grip, pinning Isrith's waist firmly against his shoulders: "Why are you putting him down? Can't you walk by yourself?"
Isri lowered his head, a slight blush on his cheeks, and his voice was broken by the shock: "It wouldn't be good if the young master saw this."
Hall listened and chuckled softly, "So what if you saw it? I can just change my position!"
As he spoke, Hall curled his lips into a smile and suddenly took Isri off his shoulder and held her in his arms. Because the blanket was very long, Isri looked like a young girl in his arms.
Hall treated Isrith in no way like a patient; he had only one principle when it came to Isrith: as long as he didn't die.
Cecil, following behind, couldn't help but gasp and awkwardly followed Hall.
Hall was rude and rough, but he treated the wounds without hesitation, quickly bandaging them up just like he had done on Isri.
"Change the dressing every three days, do it yourself!" Hall commanded from beside Isri's bed.
Isri lay on the bed, his lips white from the pain. Seeing that Isri couldn't speak, Sehir got up from the stool and opened his mouth.
"You should go back first."
Hall looked at Cecil, his brows twitching slightly, his eyes filled with complex emotions. Only when he turned and walked to the door did he turn back to look at Cecil.
“Young Master…” Hall opened his mouth, his eyes full of pity.
"Um?"
Hall gritted his teeth, finally exhaled, and tilted his head to the side, opening his mouth: "No need to be polite to him."
Sesil paused for a moment, then smiled and said, "Okay."
After Hall left, Cecil took a closer look at the person on the bed.
Can you sit up?
Isri slowly opened his eyes, not daring to look at Ceshir: "Yes, young master."
His pale knuckles gripped the sheets, trying to prop himself up; the veins on the back of his hands were bulging, showing that he was using a lot of strength.