The Swordswoman’s Revenge Story After Rebirth

Chapter 372: I Will Not Attend the Funeral

+8 Pearls

Oliver’s voice was firm. “Not just her—I don’t want to go to the funeral either, let alone wear mourning clothes.”

Esme nodded. “I knew she wouldn’t go, and honestly, I don’t think she should. But since she’s refusing, we need a strategy. That’s why I called you here—to discuss how we handle this.”

Oliver asked, “Do you have a plan?”

“There is a way,” Esme admitted, hesitating before continuing, “but…it would be cruel to Geoffrey.”

“What is it?”

Esme took a deep breath. “If the King were to punish Isolde, it would be on the grounds of unfilial conduct. Death is the ultimate matter, and Prudence was still considered her ancestor. A County Princess refusing to observe mourning rites would be seen as a scandal.”

“But…what if Isolde’s refusal to wear mourning clothes was actually an act of filial piety?”

Oliver’s gaze sharpened. “You mean…to have Geoffrey petition the court himself? To publicly accuse Prudence of murder?”

Esme sighed. “Yes. But a son accusing his mother—that itself is an act of defiance, and Geoffrey would be the first to be branded unfilial.”

Oliver exhaled. “Which is why you hesitated. Isolde would never agree to this. But if you told Geoffrey, he’d be willing to do it—even if it cost him everything. That’s the dilemma.”

“She would refuse outright,” Esme agreed. “That’s why we can’t tell her.”

“Then what’s your alternative?” Oliver asked.

He mulled it over. Truthfully, there weren’t many options.

“I’ll speak to Doug tomorrow,” he finally said. “If either of us can present evidence of her crimes, maybe that would be enough.”

Esme shook her head. “That won’t work. The King might not believe it. Without undeniable proof, he won’t order an investigation.”

Oliver frowned. “Isolde refusing to attend the funeral will not stay a secret. Once people realize she isn’t there, someone is bound to bring it up. And if word spreads outside, those with ulterior motives will use it against her.”

“What if we inform the Queen Mother first and have her step in?”

Esme sighed. “Isolde isn’t just a County Princess—she’s a military general. The Queen Mother may sympathize with her, but the King rules with filial piety as his guiding principle. If she intervenes, it would be seen as obstructing the King’s moral authority.”

“The Queen Mother’s position is delicate. How can a mother be seen preventing her son from upholding virtue? She won’t be able to step in.”

“We can only hope,” Esme murmured.

“Enough worrying,” Oliver said, patting her shoulder. “I should go back before Isolde starts wondering.”

“Alright, but have you eaten? I can make something for you.”

“I ate with Doug earlier. Don’t trouble yourself—get some rest.”

With that, he left.

That night, the Valen household was anything but peaceful. At Sunset Chamber, Cristina had spent nearly half an hour screaming insults at the top of her lungs. But no one came to stop her. No one even passed by to watch. It was as if the entire estate had collectively decided she wasn’t worth their attention. In the end, she was the only one who suffered—shivering in the freezing cold until she had no choice but to slink back inside.

The next morning, Allan woke early and immediately inquired, “Have Oliver and Isolde returned to her family estate?”

The servant replied, “No, Master Allan. They’re still at Ningser Pavilion.”

Allan frowned. “Why haven’t they left? They should have returned last night. The Langley family doesn’t have many to oversee the funeral arrangements—Oliver and Isolde should be there to help.”

Heidi, draping a warm cloak over his shoulders, said lightly, “I heard Vance has returned. With him and the elders handling things, Isolde’s absence won’t matter much. She is an outsider now, after all. A granddaughter married away doesn’t need to rush back.”

The servant added, “Oliver seems to have no intention of leaving either. I just saw Miniro—he said Oliver is heading back to Southern Watch today.”

Allan frowned deeper. “Then what about Isolde? She could have gone ahead of him.”

“No movement from Ningser Pavilion,” the servant said.

Allan’s brows knitted together. “She’s really not leaving? The funeral is today.”

“A woman not attending her own grandmother’s funeral…that’s unthinkable,” Heidi mused, brushing a stray white hair off his cloak. “Perhaps something is holding her up. If she doesn’t leave, she’ll surely come to pay her respects here first. We can ask her then.”

Allan nodded. “She wouldn’t be so careless. Kody, go fetch her to have breakfast with us before we leave.”

Allan was a man of discipline. He no longer involved himself in many celebrations, but funerals—especially one of such high standing—were obligations he never neglected.

Isolde greeted him with a calm expression. “Tell my grandfather I’ll be there shortly.”

Kody noted that she showed no sign of preparing for a journey. He hesitated before asking, “Lady Isolde, will you be returning to the Langley estate today? Shall I have the carriage prepared?”

As one of the senior servants in the estate, Kody was respected enough to ask without overstepping.

Isolde gave a serene smile. “No need. I’m not going.”

Kody blinked. “You mean…you’re not going today? Or…”

“I’m not going at all,” she said simply.

Kody was stunned. “Why?”

Isolde’s smile remained, but she didn’t answer. “Just return to Grandfather. I’ll be there shortly.”

Sensing that she wasn’t going to explain, Kody didn’t press further. He also chose not to report it immediately—after all, if she truly wasn’t going, she would tell Allan herself.

At Rannard Chamber, where Allan was having breakfast, Isolde entered with Esme. Allan immediately noticed her calm demeanor—no sorrow, no grief. And, more importantly, no sign of preparation to leave.

“I thought you would have left last night,” Allan said, his tone neutral but edged with disapproval.

Isolde bowed. “I did not.”

“Well, obviously,” Allan said, setting down his tea. “You’re standing here.”

Heidi tried to smooth the tension. “Come, have breakfast first. You can leave after eating.”

But Isolde didn’t sit.

“I’m not going,” she said instead. “I already informed Kody.”

Allan’s head snapped up. His voice sharpened. “What did you just say?”

“I will not be attending the funeral,” Isolde said evenly.

The room fell into stunned silence. Allan’s palm struck the table.

“Absurd!” he roared. “That was your grandmother! You are in Argentum, and you refuse to go to her funeral? Do you realize how disgraceful this is?”

He narrowed his eyes, his voice lowering into something more dangerous.