Chapter 394: The Langley Family Rises

Ashley pondered the information. “So, Isolde is entering the palace tomorrow to give thanks. But only to the Queen Mother? Shouldn’t she also be thanking the King?”

Vivian nodded. “Traditionally, yes. But since the King will be visiting the Queen Mother’s palace tomorrow, she won’t need to go to him separately.”

“I see…” Ashley’s fingers tapped lightly on the armrest of her chair as a plan formed in her mind. “Vivian, for tonight’s supper, add a touch of croton seeds. Then call for an imperial physician. Tomorrow, I shall be unwell and will have to arrive at the Queen Mother’s palace later than the others.”

Vivian immediately understood. “You wish to ensure a private meeting with the King?”

Ashley smirked. “That’s one reason. The other is that I have no desire to face the other consorts just yet.”

She had not forgotten Layla. Layla had been demoted because of her, and if they met now, there would surely be sharp words, barbed insults, and attempts to humiliate her. Though Ashley now bore the title of consort, she did not yet have the standing to retaliate openly. It was better to avoid confrontation for the time being.

“Understood, Your Highness. I will make the arrangements,” Vivian said.

The women of the palace employed all manner of schemes to catch the King’s attention. Ashley was simply playing by their rules. She had no illusions—her survival and future in this place depended entirely on gaining favor.

After Geoffrey’s funeral, the guests and helpers slowly departed, leaving the grand estate eerily empty. Clark and Oliver accompanied Harlan to carry Geoffrey’s spirit tablet, ensuring he was laid to rest beside Prunella. The burial site was not far, but with the required ceremonies, the journey would take several days. Isolde did not go. By tradition, a married daughter was not required to accompany the procession. Oliver, too, insisted she stay behind, knowing that watching her father’s burial might be too much for her to bear.

She remained at Pearl Tower, sitting in silence for what felt like hours. Her mind drifted back to the beginning of it all—her rebirth. She had returned to this life and immediately clashed with Matilda over William’s marriage. She had stormed into Geoffrey’s chambers, demanding food after Matilda had tried to starve her out. She remembered Geoffrey telling her that if anyone bullied her, she should come to him. She had told him she would handle it herself. And now he was gone. It felt like just yesterday. And yet, in a single breath, they had been separated by life and death.

“My lady, please don’t dwell on sorrow,” Esine said softly, watching Isolde with concern.

Isolde slowly opened her eyes. “Esme, how much does one have to lose before life is finally done taking?”

“We lose constantly,” Esme replied. “But we also gain. The trouble is, people only mourn their losses and forget to cherish what they still have.”

“Perhaps you’re right.” Isolde stood, walking to the open doors. She gripped the wooden railing, staring into the barren winter garden. The trees had shed their leaves, the flowerbeds lay dormant. Everything was lifeless.

“Yet come spring, this place will bloom again,” Esme murmured beside her.

Isolde turned suddenly. “Esme, I want to move back here.”

Esme blinked. “Move back?”

“This is my parents’ home. I want to live here.”

Esme studied her carefully. “But your father and mother are gone. What good is clinging to an empty house? My lady, you misunderstand me. Do not drown in what you have lost—cherish what remains. That is the only way forward.”

“Cherish what remains?” Isolde echoed.

“Yes. Oliver will live here with me.”

“And Pablo? Allan?” Esme countered.

Isolde hesitated.

“Pablo raised Oliver. To Oliver, he is as much a father as Geoffrey was to you. Pablo may not object outright, but what father raises a son only to have him leave?” Esme sighed. “And Pablo adores you. So does Allan. They are part of what you have gained, Isolde.”

Isolde stared at her, realization sinking in.

“You regret never making peace with Geoffrey. You regret not having the chance to be a good daughter to him. Do you really want to carry the same regret with Pablo and Allan? And will you make Oliver bear the same sorrow!”

Isolde exhaled shakily. “I’ve been selfish.”

“No, my lady. You’ve been grieving.” Esme placed a hand on her shoulder. “But grief cannot dictate your life. Those who have passed can only rest in peace if the ones they love continue to live well. If you move…”

“Then honor them by living, no matter where you reside. They will always be with you.”

Isolde’s eyes shimmered with unshed tears.

Just then, Nicole entered the courtyard. She was wrapped in a thick, gray cotton cloak over her mourning whites. With the household in mourning, she had nothing else to wear.

For the past few days, she had spent most of her time at Pearl Tower. Nicole felt lost. Geoffrey had been the family’s pillar. Without him, she—an unwed woman with no prospects—felt untethered. So she stayed close to Isolde, drawing comfort from her presence.

“Isolde,” Nicole greeted, shivering, “It’s freezing out here. Come inside.”

Isolde took her hand, leading her indoors. Once seated, she studied Nicole’s pale face. “Has Vance been asking you for money again?”

Nicole gave a weak smile. “He took all I had left.”

“You should have kept some for yourself,” Esme frowned.

“It doesn’t matter. With Grandmother gone, I don’t know when I’ll marry. Perhaps never.” Nicole let out a bitter laugh. “Maybe I’ll never need a dowry.”

Women could marry during a mourning period, but only if the engagement had been set before the loss. Nicole had no such arrangement. If she waited three years, she would be twenty-two. And at twenty-two, she would be an old maid.

“Nicole,” Isolde hesitated. “Do you… like Keith?”

Nicole tensed. “I don’t know if he would consider someone like me.”

“Why not ask him?” Isolde suggested.

“That’s improper. Even if he had feelings for me, he wouldn’t wait three years.”

“Marriages can be arranged within the hundred-day mourning period,” Esme noted. “But Keith’s family is well-established. A rushed wedding may not suit them.”

“Then let’s ask Princess Aveline for help,” Isolde decided.

Nicole looked worried. “But the Langley family might object. We share the same surname.”

“That hasn’t been an issue since the Queen Mother’s decree,” Esme smiled. “Love is now enough to permit a…”