Chapter 411: Selling the Ancestral Grave

As the crowd around them grew larger, Jaime realized that speaking outside wouldn't work. Seeing Isolde's overly flattering attitude, he coldly said, “Wait here. I’ll go inform Lawson.”

Isolde bowed politely. “Thank you for your trouble.”

Jaime instructed someone to keep watch at the door and quickly ran inside. Soon enough, he came back out and glanced at Isolde, saying, “Lawson is merciful and has allowed you to speak, but you’re not allowed to enter the main building. You must remain outside.”

“Thank you, I understand the rules,” Isolde replied, nodding gratefully. It was fine not to go inside; they could speak in the courtyard.

The large church doors swung open, and some of the onlookers perched on the walls, while others gathered near the entrance. The flickering light from the bonfire inside made everything visible.

Lawson sat at the entrance of the church, appearing to be in his sixties, with graying hair and a thin face. His eyes were deep-set, and faint spots marked the corners. He looked stern, surrounded by many young men from the family. Even though this was just a small church in Zrork City, Lawson carried himself with the air of someone presiding over an official court session.

Impressive.

Isolde could see a few older men sitting inside the church, but there were so many people at the door that she couldn’t clearly make out who was inside. However, sitting among the elders was one person who looked very familiar. It had to be Vance.

Isolde kept her composure as she stepped forward and bowed toward Lawson. “I, Isolde, pay my respects to Lawson.”

Lawson didn’t even bother to look up. His voice was slow and dismissive as he replied, “Ah, so it’s Isolde. My apologies for not rising to greet you, but I am too old to stand.”

Isolde immediately responded, “No, no, I would never presume to have you rise. It is my duty to greet you.”

His satisfaction seemed to grow at her humble response. He slowly raised his head and looked her over, then extended his hand. Someone behind him placed a smoking pipe into his hand, and another person eagerly filled it with tobacco and lit it. Lawson took a few long puffs, the smoke enveloping him as he said, “Speak. What is it you want?”

Isolde stepped forward, but Lawson immediately barked, “Stand where you are! No closer.”

Isolde stopped in her tracks, smiling apologetically. “Apologies, I forgot the rules for a moment. Please forgive me.”

Lawson, growing impatient, gestured for her to proceed. “Say what you must.” He had originally planned to give her a bit of a lesson, show some authority, but her constant smiles made it difficult for him to raise his hand against her. Better to hear her out first.

Lawson’s eyebrows shot up. He slammed the end of his pipe against the armrest of his chair, his voice turning sharp. “What’s this? Now you’re blaming us for this? The family already selected a burial plot for him. It was your husband, that so-called general, who, in his arrogance, refused to bury him there. If you’re going to blame someone, blame your husband.”

Isolde, maintaining a conciliatory tone, replied, “Lawson, the plot you’ve selected is unstable, the soil is loose. If a storm comes, the grave could be exposed. And my father was a First-Rank Duke; according to the proper rites, his tomb must be built to a certain standard. The plot you’ve chosen is unsuitable. The mountain is so large, surely there’s a better spot. How about I bring a fortune teller to the mountain tomorrow to have a look?”

Lawson snorted. “Don’t try to use your First-Rank Duke title to intimidate me. The state has its laws, but families have their own rules. He is a Langley, and his tomb cannot surpass the standards of our ancestors, or it will be seen as usurping the family’s legacy—an act of disloyalty.”

Isolde’s smile didn’t fade. “Of course, family rules and state laws must both be followed, but doesn’t the state law take precedence? Since my father’s tomb must follow the proper standards, it would be best if we follow those standards. As for whether it’s an act of usurpation, I’m sure the King can decide.”

“Using the First-Rank Duke and the King to try to intimidate me?” Lawson’s face darkened. “This matter isn’t for you to decide. You’re an outsider, a woman married into the family. This is not your responsibility. But since you’re a marquise, I’ll indulge you a bit. There’s no room for discussion. If he’s to be buried in the ancestral grave, it must be in the plot we’ve chosen. If not, you can forget about the Langley family’s plot entirely.”

In other words, the matter was settled. No further negotiation.

Isolde let out a soft sigh, then said, “Lawson, the land you’re speaking of was purchased by my father. The deed is in my hands. All I want is for him to be buried peacefully and properly. If that can happen, everyone will be happy.”

“What? Your father bought the land, so now you think you own it?” Lawson’s eyes gleamed with disdain. “If you’re so determined, go door to door and tell all the other branches of the Langley family to dig up their ancestors and move them. If you want the land, you can try taking it back.”

To move the graves meant forcing the Langley family to disinter their ancestors. Once the land had been declared the Langley family’s ancestral plot, any family members who could trace their lineage back to the family were buried there. But if Isolde now claimed that land as her own, she would be accusing the family of exhuming their forebears—an act of great disrespect.

Isolde smiled slightly, her voice light as she said, “I would never dare disturb the resting place of our ancestors. But I am a businesswoman, and this mountain is mine. Now that I’ve married out of the family, I can’t manage all these properties myself.”

She turned to address the crowd of onlookers and raised her hands in greeting. “I ask that you help spread the word. I’m considering selling this mountain. Its energy is exceptional. My father’s rise from a humble soldier to a First-Rank Duke is proof enough of that. If someone is interested, I’m happy to arrange a sale. If a deal is made, I will take a commission, as promised.”

The crowd erupted in shock, with people exclaiming, “Is this for real?”

“Absolutely,” Isolde replied with a broad smile, bowing. “Please, do me the favor of spreading the word.”

The young men around Lawson shouted in outrage, “How dare you sell the ancestral…!”

“You ungrateful wretch! I should strike you down right here!”

“Just because you’re a marquise doesn’t mean you can act like this! Do you think we don’t know the officials in the court? Believe me, we’ll have you reported!”