Chapter 32 I’ll Decide for You

Geoffrey had finally pieced together what had transpired at Wolf Mountain. When it came to matters outside his family, his mind was sharp and quick. After linking it with what Isolde had told him, the full picture became clear. However, he knew the current evidence was insufficient to bring Milton down. Turning to Oliver, he remarked, “Milton is untouchable for now. If we pull this thread too soon, we might unravel something much bigger.”

Oliver chuckled. “You and I are of the same mind, Geoffrey. That’s exactly what I was thinking. We should prolong the investigation, keep him under pressure for a while.”

Geoffrey gave him an approving look. “You’re sharp. Just like your father.”

“You flatter me,” Oliver smiled.

Geoffrey invited him to coffee and, as they sat down, asked, “By the way, do you know Orson?”

Oliver raised a brow. “Why do you ask?”

“He’s my daughter’s mentor, and Lord Vargas seems to know him as well. It got me curious—who exactly is he?”

Oliver’s smile deepened. “Why not ask Isolde?”

A flicker of discomfort crossed Geoffrey’s face. “To be honest, there are some things… I can’t bring myself to ask her.”

Oliver studied him for a moment before saying, “If the opportunity arises, I can introduce you.”

“Good.” Seeing that Oliver was unwilling to elaborate, Geoffrey assumed Orson wasn’t anyone of great importance and let the matter drop.

Over coffee, their discussion returned to politics. The intervention of the Southern Watch was a significant boost for Geoffrey. It signaled that both the King and the Queen Mother were taking this matter seriously. If he handled things well, he would prove himself worthy of the title of Grand Duke.

“I truly hope Doug returns to Argentum soon,” Geoffrey sighed. “With him here, certain people might think twice before acting.”

Oliver’s lips curled into a knowing smile. “He’s on his way back.”

Geoffrey’s eyes lit up. “Truly? That’s excellent news!”

Though eunuchs did not traditionally wield power in the Eryndral Empire, Doug was an exception. He was the Queen Mother’s and Prince Regent Bradley Clarke’s most trusted confidant, a man whose influence extended across the empire. Even the highest nobility treated him with deference. Of course, many despised him; righteous officials looked down on him, though they dared not oppose him outright.

Once Oliver and Lord Theodric left, Michelle returned with a procession of attendants. Ever since marrying into the Velmont family, Michelle had maintained an extravagant presence. In truth, the Velmont family was little more than a hollow shell—much like the Duke’s estate. The only difference was that Marquis Velmont’s title could still be passed down for one more generation.

That evening, upon her return, Matilda pulled her daughter aside. “Michelle, you must help me. Isolde has suddenly grown a backbone! She’s demanding your father return Prunella’s dowry to her.”

“Did Father agree?” Michelle frowned as she took a seat.

“Of course he did!” Matilda seethed. “He came to me directly, ordering me to return the estates and shops.” She gritted her teeth in frustration. “You know I had planned to keep those for your brother! When you married, I already gave you two shops and an estate. The remaining three shops and two estates were meant for him. If we return them all, what will he have left?”

“We can’t let her have them.” Michelle’s voice was cold. She relied on those properties to maintain her status within the Velmont family. Giving them up was out of the question.

“But your father has already made up his mind. What can we do?” Matilda fretted.

Michelle sneered. “Since when does Father ever listen to her?”

“It’s different now. She’s a County Princess.” Matilda’s voice dropped to a whisper as she leaned in, murmuring something in Michelle’s ear.

Michelle nodded, her eyes gleaming. “Ryker’s plan is clever—clean, efficient.”

“I’d love nothing more than for her to die immediately,” Matilda muttered. “But she must marry into the Valen family first and have a grand wedding. Only then can Eleanor have strong reasons to claim the position of wife in the future. If we act now, the effects of the medicine will surface just in time.”

“Agreed. I’ll handle it. In the meantime, summon Eleanor. She’ll come with me to apologize to Isolde. That girl just wants to save face—if Eleanor acts contrite, she’ll be easier to manipulate. Also, pack some of my old clothes and some unused fabric. I’ll bring them as gifts.”

Matilda hesitated. “Will she even care for them?”

Michelle laughed mockingly. “She won’t? My clothes, even if worn, are made of the finest materials. Has she ever worn anything this good? Besides, she’s always been desperate to imitate me. If I offer her my old things, she’ll be overjoyed. Just you watch.”

Matilda considered this and nodded. “You’re right. She used to follow your every word. Whatever you told her to do, she did it without question.”

That night, Michelle arrived at the Pearl Tower, bringing Eleanor along. Her attendants carried in numerous packages, filling the table.

Eleanor, feigning admiration, exclaimed, “Isolde, Michelle treats you so well!”

She acted as if their past conflicts had never happened. Isolde glanced at the bundles and said indifferently, “If you like them, they’re yours.”

The so-called gifts were clear—three or four bundles of Michelle’s old dresses, along with some faded, aged fabric. A flicker of disdain flashed in Eleanor’s eyes, but she maintained her smile. “Oh, I couldn’t possibly! Michelle brought these especially for you.”

Michelle, still smiling, pulled her down beside her. “These dresses were mine. Though they’re worn, the fabric is exquisite. Nothing of great value, of course, but I also brought you something far more precious.”

She gestured for her maid to bring a large package, then personally unwrapped it. Inside were several small packets of medicinal herbs.

“These were prescribed by the imperial physician at my father’s request,” Michelle said warmly. “They strengthen the body and enhance internal energy. I know you love martial arts, so I had him prepare extra doses just for you.”

Isolde smiled softly. “Thank you.” Her eyes held a familiar glimmer of trust and admiration—just as they had in her past life.

Michelle was satisfied. She lifted her chin slightly and added, “Make sure you take them regularly. Where is your maid? I’ll give her instructions myself.”

Isolde gestured, and Jacqueline immediately stepped into the room. Michelle gave a slight nod, then pointed to the herbs. “These are for Isolde’s health. You will brew them daily. If you neglect your duty, I will personally see to your punishment.”

Jacqueline lowered her head in feigned terror. “Yes, my lady.” She bowed, carefully gathering the medicine before retreating.