Chapter 167: The Star of Doom Strikes

Geoffrey led Clark into the brightly lit courtyard, the lanterns casting a cold, pale light on his face. "Should I speak to Luka for you about the leave request?" Geoffrey asked.

Clark paused, staring at his father. "Do you think I should take leave, Father?"

"Of course," Geoffrey replied firmly. "It's only right for you to come back and care for your grandmother."

Clark hesitated. "But I've been working on the Annals of the Eryndral Empire with the editors. If I take leave, Luka will likely assign someone else to my position."

Geoffrey blinked in surprise. "He's just started, and already he's been promoted to work on the Annals of the Eryndral Empire? That's quite a promising future…" He trailed off, lost in thought about Clark's prospects.

"So, you don't want to come back and care for your grandmother?" Geoffrey asked after a pause.

"No, that's not it," Clark answered, looking conflicted. "I just… during the day, you, Vance, Priscilla, and the servants will be here. I can try to return earlier in the evening and sleep in Grandmother's room. How does that sound?"

Geoffrey considered this. "That's a good idea. But it will be exhausting for you."

"It's no trouble," Clark replied, a hint of hope in his eyes. "Father, can you talk to Grandmother about it?"

Geoffrey nodded. "Alright, I'll speak to her. Being part of the Annals of the Eryndral Empire is a great honor. I'm proud of you, Clark."

However, when Geoffrey entered Prudence's room and explained the situation, she broke down into hysterical sobs, gasping for breath between tears. "I just wanted to secure a good reputation for Clark," she cried, "but he doesn't appreciate it! I've tried so hard, but he doesn't care!"

The sight of his mother's agony panicked Geoffrey. He rushed to calm her. "Mother, please, don't cry. Clark will take the leave. He'll come back to care for you."

Clark, standing quietly by the bedside, nodded with a cold, stiff smile. "Grandmother, don't worry. I'll go to the library tomorrow and request leave."

With those words, he slowly backed out of the room. Stepping into the chilly courtyard, the crisp autumn wind hit him, and he felt the season's melancholy embrace. Autumn had truly arrived.

Dragging his feet, he made his way to the Pearl Tower. Isolde, seeing his downcast expression, immediately understood something was wrong. She didn't care much for reputation, but for someone in the political world like Clark, a reputation for being unfilial could ruin everything.

"You have no choice but to do this, don't you?" she said, her tone softer now.

Chapter 167: The Star of Doom Strikes (continued)

"...into thirty-six provinces, each with its own unique customs. Some people spend their whole lives in the place where they were born, and others leave to seek their fortune elsewhere. Some return in glory, while others die far from home. Everyone seems like just another face in the crowd, but every person has a story, something worth recording." He paused, a wistful look in his eyes. "I'm working on the Annals of the Eryndral Empire, researching the lives of exceptional people. It's such a shame, though, such a shame…" His voice trailed off.

Isolde remained silent, her eyes narrowing thoughtfully. She wasn't one for grand ambitions, but she had a deep respect for those who did. Clark's ambition, she realized, was just like Oliver's—both men sought something grand. Oliver, a soldier, longed to ride on the battlefield, to drive out invaders and defend the homeland. But in one of their rare past conversations, he had mentioned that if there were no more wars, he would lay down his armor and wander the mountains, seeking peace and beauty instead.

Isolde's fingers brushed the paper tucked in her sleeve, a soft smile curling her lips. She missed him dearly—Oliver had been gone for so long now.

"Don't worry too much," Isolde said gently, breaking the silence. "There will be other opportunities. If you're part of the Annals of the Eryndral Empire now, just imagine what you could do next. You'll create something even greater."

Clark nodded, though his heart remained heavy. "I can only try to look at it that way," he replied, his voice lacking conviction.

The next day, Clark returned to the Parliamentary Library and asked for leave, citing his grandmother's illness. Luka was shocked, but after hearing the details, he fell silent for a moment before responding. "Go," he said finally. "You're a man of filial piety. I can't deny your request."

Clark hesitated. "But what about the section on the customs of the provinces in the Annals of the Eryndral Empire…"

"Don't worry about that," Luka said. "I'll have someone cover your position."

Clark felt a pang of melancholy. "Alright," he muttered.

Meanwhile, Prudence, despite her illness, continued to sell off her shops and estates. Vance and Priscilla kept bringing new contracts for her to sign, and the money flowed back into their hands like a river.

That day, Xavier also visited. Prudence had asked him to help select a burial plot and an appropriate time for her funeral. Watching her steadily decline, Geoffrey felt a sinking feeling in his heart. Her face was swelling more each day, and it seemed clear that time was running out for her.

After meeting with Prudence, Xavier stepped outside to meet Geoffrey. His face was serious.

"Geoffrey, there's something I have to tell you," Xavier said, his voice low.

Geoffrey immediately sensed the gravity of the situation. "Come to my study," he said, his voice tense.

Once inside, Xavier wasted no time. "Geoffrey, why haven't you listened to me? Why haven't you sent Isolde away yet?"

Geoffrey blinked, caught off guard. "Is it really that urgent?"

Chapter 167: The Star of Doom Strikes (continued)

"It's more than urgent," Xavier said, his eyes flashing with anger. "Disasters always strike those closest to the source. Prudence is already old and frail. She can't withstand the calamity that is Isolde's presence. And it's not just her—anyone near Isolde will suffer. Look at your house, Geoffrey. Does anything here seem right? Has the Duke's estate lost its former vitality?"

Geoffrey, too, had noticed the change—the unease that hung over the household. He had to admit, things weren't the same.

Xavier leaned forward, his voice even quieter. "There's something else I've discovered, though it's a dangerous secret to reveal. Pablo must have mentioned marrying Isolde off to Oliver, but the marriage has never been finalized. Now, Oliver has met with misfortune. This is the result of Isolde's ill fortune. If she's not sent away soon, Oliver may never return."

Geoffrey was struck dumb. "What? Are you saying…"

"I'm sure of it," Xavier replied gravely. "I've never been wrong in reading the omens. If Isolde stays, your family will fall. Mark my words."

He stood, bowing slightly. "That's all I have to say. I won't be coming back. Take care, Geoffrey."

With that, Xavier turned and left without another word, leaving Geoffrey standing in stunned silence.