Rewrite Her Thrilling Life (Lillian and Sebastian) novel Chapter 237

Chapter 237: The Boy

That wretched woman—her skill with the bow was undeniably exceptional, yet she had deliberately played the part of a clumsy fool, making everyone laugh at her expense and dragging Everly down into disgrace. The sheer audacity was unbearable.

Lillian, feeling the heavy weight of hostile glances from the onlookers, shifted her mocking eyes toward Everly. “It appears my winnings are still lacking something, don’t you think?”

Allen, quick to sense the bitterness simmering in Everly’s gaze, stepped forward without hesitation. “Yes, Ms. Lillian, what is your wish? Whatever it may be, we will see to it.”

With a cold, disdainful look aimed at Everly’s twisted expression, Lillian pointed toward the boy still bound to the large wooden wheel. “Him. I want him.”

Her declaration stunned everyone present. To them, these people were little more than slaves—without rights, possessions to be bought, sold, or handed over like objects. No one could have imagined that this girl would brazenly demand one in the middle of a public gathering.

Everly’s face lit up with cruel satisfaction. “You shameless vixen! To have such indecency in front of Sebastian—”

The crowd shifted uneasily, their eyes now filled with contempt as they glanced at Lillian.

Lillian paid no attention to Everly’s outburst. Instead, she calmly fixed her gaze on Allen, waiting for his response.

Allen nodded with a dismissive air. To them, someone like that boy was insignificant. At his signal, a servant stepped forward and untied the ropes binding the boy. The boy, though ragged and covered in dirt, approached Lillian with his head bowed respectfully. “Master,” he said quietly.

Despite his tattered appearance, the boy’s eyes gleamed with a fierce, unyielding spirit. Lillian had noticed how he had endured the earlier arrow without flinching—a testament to his extraordinary resilience. That was precisely why she had decided to save him.

Sebastian’s expression hardened, his gaze turning icy as he fixed Everly with a cold, cutting stare. “I have no sister, so do not presume such familiarity. Address me as Mr. Whitmore. As for my fiancée—whether she loves me or not is irrelevant. What matters is that I love her. That is all. You need not concern yourself any further.”

He knew Lillian had her reasons for claiming the boy, and he trusted her implicitly.

In just a few sharp sentences, Everly felt her blood run cold. His eyes—so merciless, so piercing—cut straight through her. Tears welled up, threatening to spill over.

She opened her mouth to argue, but Cary’s voice interrupted her sharply. “Everly, enough!”

The old man’s stern reprimand struck her like a whip. She turned instinctively toward him, only to find his gaze steely and unforgiving. A chill ran down her spine, and every word she had intended to say died on her tongue.