Rewrite Her Thrilling Life (Lillian and Sebastian) novel Chapter 222

Chapter 222: The Enigmatic Elder

Westminster City, the administrative core of Tavershamn, lay just west of Luneford and north of the Tavernis River. This bustling city was dotted with architectural marvels—grand cathedrals boasting intricate, exotic designs, iconic landmarks that defined the skyline, and expansive parks that offered peaceful retreats from urban life.

The streets were alive with cyclists gliding leisurely along, their gentle presence adding a layer of quiet romance and effortless charm to the city’s atmosphere. The air carried a subtle hum of serenity, as if the city itself breathed in a slow, calming rhythm.

In her previous existence, Lillian had been confined within a narrow, self-imposed boundary, never daring to venture beyond her limited world. But now, reborn and determined, she yearned to experience everything—the hidden gems of every corner of the earth, every breathtaking vista that deserved to be savored.

She stood before a towering cathedral, its spires reaching ambitiously toward the sky. Tilting her head back, she watched a flock of pigeons burst into flight, their wings beating rhythmically as they soared upward. Unable to resist, she pulled out her phone and captured a few snapshots, wanting to hold onto this moment of simple beauty.

Just then, a sleek, black Rolls-Royce glided smoothly down the street. Inside, an elderly man sat by the window, his calm demeanor coupled with an unmistakable air of authority that seemed to command the space around him even in silence. His hands rested firmly on the handle of a polished cane, grounding him in quiet strength.

Next to him, a sharply dressed man in a suit and glasses maintained perfect posture, tablet in hand as he reported, “Sir, your schedule for today is complete. What would you like to do next?”

Suddenly, the elder’s gaze locked onto a figure on the sidewalk. His eyes narrowed, disbelief flickering across his stern features.

“Stop the car,” he commanded urgently.

The vehicle slowed and came to a halt. The assistant quickly opened the door, but the old man had already braced himself on his cane, stepping down onto the pavement with surprising steadiness. His piercing eyes scanned the sidewalk until they rested on a young woman standing there—her head bowed slightly as she glanced at her phone, a faint, almost imperceptible smile playing at the corners of her lips.

When his gaze finally met her face, the old man froze, a wave of shock washing over him. Muttering under his breath, he whispered, “So alike… too alike…” Then, clutching his chest, his breath became shallow and rapid.

“Sir, are you all right?” the assistant asked, panic evident in his voice as he rushed to his side.

The elder struggled for air, his trembling finger pointing weakly toward the cathedral. His lips moved silently, as if trying to form words, but his consciousness began to waver.

Alarmed, the assistant barked orders at the driver to call emergency services. None dared to move the old man, fearful of worsening his condition, as a small crowd started to gather around them.

Just as she withdrew the needles, the ambulance arrived, sirens piercing the air. Paramedics rushed forward, carefully lifting the elderly man onto a stretcher. Even as they carried him away, his gaze lingered on her, full of silent searching and unspoken longing.

To Lillian, it was a momentary encounter, barely worth dwelling on. Yet, there was something in that man’s eyes—something indefinable—that stayed with her long after he was gone.

By the time she returned to the estate, dusk had fallen, casting long shadows across the sprawling grounds. The fading light painted the landscape in hues of amber and deepening blue.

No sooner had she stepped inside than Sunny’s excited yips reached her ears. The estate was vast, and she had left him outside to play rather than confining him to her room. Before she could react, a sharp, imperious voice rang out in a foreign language, cutting through the quiet evening air with a shrill edge.

“Catch that mangy fox for me! I refuse to believe I can’t handle a filthy little animal!” the woman demanded, her tone sharp and commanding.

A calm, measured voice responded—Austin Estate’s butler, unfazed as always. “Apologies, Ms. Everly. While you may be the Duke of Chris’s daughter, you have no authority here at Austin Estate to give orders.”

“No authority?” The woman’s voice rose, outrage clear in her words. “I am Sebastian’s fiancée, the future mistress of the Austine family, and you dare to tell me I have no right?”