Chapter 121: Will Do Whatever It Takes

Isolde’s face hardened. “Priscilla, who are you insulting? You can insult me all you want, but now you’re dragging my grandmother into it? If her granddaughter is a little beast, does that make her an old beast?”

Priscilla, momentarily at a loss, glanced back at Prudence. Prudence’s face twitched, her eyes darkening with anger. “Watch your language,” she said sharply.

“I was talking about the little dog,” Priscilla muttered, defensively.

Prudence, clearly irritated, said, “Enough. You can go. I need to speak with Isolde.”

Reluctantly, Priscilla left, attempting a venomous glare at Isolde, but Isolde’s cold gaze deterred her.

Vance, though frustrated, remained focused on his own interests. He would compromise whenever gain presented itself.

Prudence sat up straighter, her anger dissipating, replaced by a gentler demeanor. She looked at Isolde kindly. “Isolde, even though you weren’t raised here at Duke’s estate, I’ve always treated all my grandchildren equally. I’ve had people check on you during your time at the manor. When I heard you were well, I felt relieved. Your father may be stubborn, but he listens to me. He’ll understand if I scold him. You shouldn’t be so stubborn either. You’re a good girl. Why leave? You have a home here, yet you choose to live elsewhere. What’s the point?”

Isolde, deeply moved, nearly wept. “Your words mean everything to me. I’ll go ask my father to come.”

She instructed Hattie to fetch Geoffrey, and Hattie hurried off.

Isolde stood by, fists clenched beneath her blankets, her nails digging into her skin, but her face remained calm. She was playing the part of the caring granddaughter—but she had her own plans for Geoffrey and herself.

Isolde asked, feigning concern, “Is your health improving, Grandmother?”

“It’s fine,” Prudence replied curtly.

“If you’re feeling better, how about I help you get up and walk around?” Isolde suggested, lowering Leonis and walking over to Prudence. Without waiting for a response, she gently pulled her up. “Come on, you can’t just lie in bed all day. Let’s get you moving.”

Prudence had fainted earlier due to a fit of rage, and although her condition had improved with medicine and rest, she had feigned illness to achieve her goal. Now, despite her anger, she stood up with Isolde’s help and slowly walked with her outside.

From the back, it looked like the picture-perfect image of grandmotherly love.

As they walked through the garden, Priscilla stood on the porch, glaring, while Vance, beside her, watched silently, his expression tense. He worried about things getting awkward between Isolde and Prudence, fearing she might involve the Marchioness of Greystone.

When Geoffrey entered, he saw Isolde accompanying Prudence in the garden. His face showed a moment of surprise.

Isolde lowered her gaze and softly said, “I hope Grandmother will speak up for me!”

Prudence, looking at Geoffrey, her face calm but sharp, said, “What kind of father are you? You let your daughter move to Paletein Manor? Is this some kind of joke for outsiders to laugh at? This is outrageous.”

Geoffrey, glancing from Prudence to Isolde, replied, “She insisted on going. I couldn’t stop her.”

“What do you mean you couldn’t stop her?” Prudence snapped. “You’re the father. She listens to you, doesn’t she? The problem is, you hurt her feelings. You’re family. Why couldn’t you just talk it through? You think she’ll only feel at ease once she leaves? I came all the way from Carlmont for this family, and now you’re letting it fall apart.”

Geoffrey was caught off guard, confused. Wasn’t this exactly what Prudence wanted?

Prudence leaned forward, swallowing her frustration, her eyes narrowing, her tone sharpening. “From now on, everything needs to be discussed. Don’t go off and make decisions on your own. Like what you did with Isolde’s marriage? You gave her to a butcher. Don’t you think that was unfair to her?”

This issue had been dealt with before Prudence’s return, but hearing it again, Geoffrey felt an uncomfortable knot in his stomach. He knew Isolde had used some kind of leverage to force Prudence into this position—he wasn’t sure how, but it was clear. Prudence, normally so controlled, was being uncharacteristically lenient with Isolde. Was it because Isolde had something on her? Or was it something even more important?

Geoffrey sighed, “You’re right, I was wrong.”

Prudence, calming down, looked at Isolde with a gentler smile. “Your father admitted his mistake. You shouldn’t stay angry. After all, you’re father and daughter. How could you hold grudges forever? Now, go back, it’s late.”

Isolde smiled brightly. “With you speaking up for me, I feel much better. Since both you and Priscilla are trying so hard to keep me here, I won’t leave. I’ll stay and take care of you, Grandmother.”

Prudence, biting her lip, said coldly, “Fine then.”

Isolde, triumphant, called Leonis to her, holding him in her arms, and gestured for her entourage to follow.

As Isolde left, Prudence’s smile faded into something much darker. Her eyes narrowed with a cold, dangerous gleam.

Geoffrey, noticing the change, was momentarily shaken by the intensity of her gaze.

“Mother, I’m going to the court now,” he said quietly.

“Go ahead,” Prudence replied, her voice steady but her expression filled with unspoken fury.

Once Geoffrey left, Prudence trembled with anger. Priscilla rushed over to steady her. “Mother, please, sit down.”

Prudence’s hand clutched Priscilla’s wrist tightly, her fingers digging in. “She has to die,” she hissed through gritted teeth.

Priscilla, startled, took a moment before answering. “Yes.”

The sense of finality in her words was chilling, as though this decision had not been made lightly, but out of desperation.

“She brought this on herself,” Priscilla muttered, guiding Prudence inside.

Prudence’s hatred had reached its peak. The hatred she had once felt for Prunella was nothing compared to this. With Prunella, she hadn’t truly hated her; it was more that she couldn’t tolerate her. A concubine’s son, married to a military noblewoman, overshadowing her own son with his prestigious background and dowry. If Prunella had lived, Vance would never have been able to rise. This was the grudge she could never swallow.

But now, she would stop at nothing to ensure that what was rightfully Vance’s—the title, the estates, everything Geoffrey had worked for—was secured for him. She would do whatever it took.