On the outskirts of Argentum, Matilda managed three estates. One of them, Montlins Manor, had been secretly added to Michelle's dowry—a fact Geoffrey was completely unaware of. Today, they were headed there.
Montlins Manor was far from Argentum; even after leaving the city, it required another hour's carriage ride. Three carriages were used for the journey. Matilda, Michelle, and Eleanor shared one; Isolde rode with Jacqueline and Helena; the third, cramped with maids and servants. Harlan followed on horseback. The final carriage lagged, slowing the entire procession. By the time they reached Montlins Manor, night had fallen. Ryker waited in the darkness with estate workers, torches in hand. As soon as Matilda and Isolde alighted, the overseer and laborers rushed forward, crowding around Matilda and Michelle with excessive enthusiasm while completely ignoring Isolde. Helena, noticing this slight, whispered angrily, “They claim this is a handover, but Mrs. Langley hasn’t even introduced you properly.” Isolde smiled faintly, signaling them to follow her inside.
Montlins Manor was vast, spanning over a hundred acres, with numerous farmhouses for the workers and their families. At its center stood a three-courtyard estate of blue brick. Though aged, it had clearly been renovated recently. Ryker lingered, waiting until Isolde passed before speaking coldly. “Isolde, don’t take it personally. The workers don’t know you yet, so they didn’t greet you.” Isolde smiled slightly. “It’s alright. They’ll know me soon enough.” Ryker let out a mocking laugh, adjusting his hat as if to hide the scar where his ear had been cut. “We’ll see about that.” He then turned and strode inside.
Inside the main hall, the estate's overseers and housekeepers surrounded Matilda and Michelle, eager to please. Matilda, warm and benevolent, listened attentively to their concerns, addressing them one by one. “Randy, how’s your rheumatism? Has it flared up again? Estella, is your cough getting any better? Aviana, this is your third child, isn’t it? And finally, a son! Your late mother-in-law must be watching over you.” She knew the details of every worker's life as if they were her own family, proving just how much effort she had invested in Montlins Manor. Only after a round of pleasantries did Matilda turn to business. “Since you’re all here, let me introduce someone.” She introduced Tealda Beam as the new manager. “If you have any concerns, you may bring them to her.”
The overseers turned to Isolde, their expressions indifferent and half-hearted as they murmured, “Greetings, Isolde.” Isolde nodded slightly. “A pleasure to meet you all.” Matilda then instructed, “Where’s Otto? Have him bring the manor’s account books for Isolde to review.” Estella smirked and muttered sarcastically, “Does Isolde even know how to read account books?” Helena stroked Leonis, saying nothing. But Jacqueline, beside Isolde, replied coolly, “Whether she understands them or not is irrelevant. If she doesn’t, she can always have someone else review them for her.” Estella laughed derisively. “Well then, let me save you the trouble. Montlins Manor hasn’t turned a profit in three years. We’ve been running at a loss, barely covering wages. This year, the estate couldn’t sustain itself, so I had to request 1,000 from Mrs. Langley just to keep it running.”
Isolde simply nodded. “Prepare my quarters. Have the account books delivered to my room. And tell Otto Baker to meet me there.” She picked up Leonis and walked out.
Michelle’s voice rang out, sharp and mocking. “Isolde, didn’t you hear what Estella just said? The estate has been losing money every year! Mother has been using her own private funds to keep it afloat! What’s the point of looking at the accounts?” Without turning, Isolde replied smoothly, “If it’s such a burden, then there’s no need to keep it. I’ll sell it.”
A stunned silence fell over the room. The estate workers paled. Selling the estate meant they would have to leave. Matilda’s expression darkened. “Isolde, hold on. The manor belonged to your mother. I won’t allow you to sell it.” Isolde shrugged. “It belongs to me. If I say I’m selling it, then it’s sold. Mrs. Langley, you have no say in the matter.” Without another word, she walked away, ignoring the anxious overseers. Harlan, who had been standing outside the entire time, merely glanced at her briefly, his face unreadable, saying nothing.
Naturally, no one came to escort Isolde to a room, so she chose one herself. Just as she was settling in, Estella stormed in, face twisted with displeasure. “Isolde, this is Mrs. Langley’s room.” Isolde barely looked up. “And? Are the other rooms any different?” Estella hesitated. “No, they’re all equally comfortable.”
“Then it makes no difference,” Isolde said indifferently. “Now, go settle Mrs. Langley somewhere else. And have Otto and the overseers report to me within the next thirty minutes. If anyone fails to show up—fire them.” Her tone was calm, but the final words carried unmistakable weight. Estella’s face reddened with anger, but she dared not protest further and left with a huff.
Helena, watching the exchange, burst into laughter. “Did they really think they could deceive you? Do they not realize you grew up on an estate?” Isolde smiled slightly. “Montlins Manor is profitable—I knew that the moment we arrived. The price of jujubes has remained high for the past few years. We passed acres of healthy jujube trees on the way here; there’s no way they’ve had poor harvests. And they have plenty of workers. If they were truly losing money, why would Matilda keep such a large staff?” She shook her head. “No. The only way this estate could be losing money is if someone’s been pocketing it.” Helena nodded. “You can tell from the workers’ faces. A real failing estate looks nothing like this.” Back at Belleview Manor, Helena had seen firsthand what an unprofitable estate looked like. In years of drought or poor harvests, there was no laughter, no smiles—just despair.
Just then, Jacqueline entered with a tray of coffee, setting it down before pouring a cup for Isolde. She hesitated before asking, “Isolde, are you really going to sell the estate?” Isolde looked up, her gaze calm and decisive. “Of course. Why keep a failing estate?” Jacqueline carefully placed the cup in front of her. “But… Mrs. Langley wasn’t wrong. This estate was your mother’s. Are you really willing to part with it?” Isolde’s expression remained unreadable. “The greatest gift my mother ever gave me… was my life.” There was no need to say more. Jacqueline nodded stiffly and excused herself.
Helena watched her retreating figure, frowning. “Miss Langley, she…” “She’s Ryker’s niece,” Isolde said simply. Helena’s face darkened. “That explains why she’s speaking on Matilda’s behalf. If you know that, why keep her around?” Isolde smirked. “What’s wrong with having another servant? The Pearl Tower’s chores all fall on her, leaving you with nothing to do. Isn’t that a good thing?” Helena blinked, then burst into laughter. “Well, when you put it that way… I suppose it is a good deal.”