The Swordswoman’s Revenge Story After Rebirth

Chapter 351: Prudence Is at Death’s Door

After a flurry of preparations, Ryker approached and reported, “Lord Oliver, the gifts are ready—three identical sets.”

“Good. Is the carriage prepared?”

“It’s waiting at the entrance,” Ryker replied.

Oliver dismissed him with a nod. Once everything was in order, he left Noelle and Britney to watch over the house and set off to pay respects to Allan and Pablo.

After exchanging pleasantries, Heidi accompanied Isolde to the door and spoke softly, “About yesterday—I apologize. I was careless. Please don’t take it to heart.”

Isolde hesitated for a moment before remembering that Heidi had summoned her yesterday. She had been so entangled with Oliver that she had completely forgotten.

Quickly, she replied, “I barely remember it. Grandmother, you needn’t worry. I was at the barracks yesterday—exhausted, which is why I didn’t come to greet you.”

Heidi assumed she was just making excuses and smiled faintly. “It’s nothing. We’ll have plenty of opportunities to see each other in the house.”

“Yes, of course,” Isolde agreed, then shot Oliver a glare. He, meanwhile, stood there tall and imposing, his expression utterly blank.

With formalities out of the way, they departed. Just as they reached the entrance, Rowena arrived from the palace and ran into them head-on. Both Oliver and Isolde hastily greeted her.

Rowena smiled. “Returning to your maiden home today?”

“Yes,” Isolde replied, lifting her gaze.

Rowena studied her for a moment before commenting, “Why didn’t you put yourself together properly? Your brows look oddly drawn.”

“This is the best we could manage,” Hazel interjected. “Only Esme could work magic with nothing.”

Isolde stared at Hazel, speechless.

“Go on, then. I have matters to attend to,” Rowena said with a knowing smile.

“Farewell,” Isolde replied, instinctively hunching her shoulders. The idea of having nothing to work with left her feeling completely awkward and exposed.

Four carriages set off—one for Oliver and Isolde, another for Esme, Hattie, and Hazel, while the remaining two were packed with gifts. The first stop was the Langley family estate. Geoffrey had made preparations well in advance, and the elders of the clan had gathered. Isolde was no…

Harlan beamed at the sight of her. “It’s good to have you home.”

Isolde bowed deeply. “Greetings, Harlan.”

Oliver, coached by Esme, had been instructed to bow to every elder he met like an obedient son-in-law. He stepped forward and followed suit.

“I wouldn’t dare accept such courtesy,” Harlan said, quickly reaching out to support him.

Amid the warm reception, Ryker quietly approached Isolde. “Prudence doesn’t have much time left—probably within the next two days.”

Isolde’s gaze darkened, concealing the storm of emotions within her. Life and death—once the flame was out, everything should be left in the past.

“Should we bring Vance back? Geoffrey’s health is deteriorating by the day,” Ryker added.

“Yes, bring him back. Nicole is about to be engaged, and having Father in prison is unbecoming. Besides, Clark and Princess Bourbon’s wedding is approaching; we need someone to handle the arrangements. If he still refuses to repent, I have my own ways to deal with him.”

“Understood: I’ll make the trip tomorrow,” Ryker affirmed.

“Thank you.”

“It’s my duty. Oh, and Matilda sent word—she’s fallen ill in prison.”

“Whether she lives or dies is none of my concern,” Isolde said indifferently. “No need to waste effort. I am not a kind person—I hold grudges.”

Ryker stiffened. “Understood.”

Afterwards, Isolde spent some time speaking with Clark and Nicole before they were summoned for the ancestral rites. Geoffrey was already waiting in the ancestral hall, visibly moved when they arrived.

Oliver, adopting a solemn demeanor, immediately knelt down.

Esme chuckled. “Lord Oliver, bow first, then kneel.”

“Oh.” Oliver hurriedly got back up and corrected his posture.

Isolde lifted her gaze toward her mother’s memorial tablet, overwhelmed with emotion. She wanted to tell her mother that she was married now—that she had chosen a good man and would be happy. But before she could speak, tears welled up and spilled over. She choked on her words and could only bow deeply in reverence.

Oliver, however, bowed toward the tablet and solemnly declared, “Lady Prunella, please rest assured. I know Isolde is your most precious treasure, the daughter you protected with your life. I swear to cherish her—to never let anyone insult or harm her, to never let her shed a single tear of grievance. She will be my one and only for life—I will not take a concubine. As for the one currently in my house, I’ll have her dismissed. From now on, there will be no others.”

He said it all in one breath and exhaled deeply, his nerves evident as his palm tightened around Isolde’s hand, damp with sweat.

Isolde’s eyes shimmered with tears. Even Geoffrey’s eyes were misty as he gazed at the memorial tablet.

After paying respects to the ancestors and her mother, Geoffrey took Oliver aside for a private conversation, while Isolde returned to the Pearl Tower. The Pearl Tower remained unchanged—just as she had left it before her marriage.

Ryker, who had accompanied her, remarked, “Since the day you left, Geoffrey ordered it to be cleaned daily, saying you might return for a short stay.”

Isolde traced her fingers over the dressing table. “Of course I’d come back. My mother is here.”

Hattie approached. “I wonder what Geoffrey is discussing with the General?”

Isolde replied coolly, “I wouldn’t know.”

But she did know. It was likely a father’s plea—urging Oliver to take good care of her.

Inside the study, Geoffrey gestured for Oliver to sit, his tone unexpectedly mild. Oliver, wary of past tensions, decided to take the initiative. “I’ve offended you before. Please forgive me.”

Geoffrey studied him for a moment, then beckoned. “Come, sit.”

Once seated, Geoffrey spoke frankly. “You were right about me before—I’m not a likable man. But because you opposed me, I know your feelings for Isolde are genuine.”

Oliver nodded. “I love her with all my heart.”

“I brought you here because there’s something I must say, something I can only say to you.” Geoffrey’s voice carried a rare sincerity.

Oliver sat up straight. “Please, go ahead.”

Geoffrey coughed lightly. “I don’t have much time left. The doctors say my organs are failing, that I won’t last long. I need to leave some words with you.”

“Failing organs? Were you poisoned?” Oliver’s brows furrowed.

“No, no.” Geoffrey shook his head. “It’s not poison. My body was already ailing, but the injuries from Zloimond’s attack aggravated it. That’s what sped things up.”

“But you seem fine—spirited even,” Oliver said, puzzled.

“That’s because Queen Mother’s medicine is sustaining me. To keep me going, Princess Aveline even brought in the royal physicians. They said if I last another six months, it’ll be a miracle. Honestly, I know my own body. It’s Harlan who refuses to accept it—he begged the princess to seek help from the palace.”