The Swordswoman’s Revenge Story after Rebirth

Chapter 414: Return to Montlins Manor

After Johanna was struck, she lingered at the door for a moment. Upon hearing Danny’s words, she scoffed, “Are you an idiot? Can’t you find someone else to talk to her?”

“Mother’s right,” Jaime quickly agreed, nodding his head.

They all considered this a good approach—forget about everything else for now, just buy the mountain and deal with it later.

“Then let’s all notify our families,” Lawson said. “Have each one send someone over to the church to discuss things—get a feel for the situation and see how much money everyone is willing to put up to settle this.”

Isolde’s actions that evening had crossed the line; they could not let this go. The fact that a married daughter had inherited the title already made the Langley family furious. It was as if they were being told the Langley family were utterly useless. Even if Clark didn’t want to inherit the title, or wasn’t interested in Vance, surely there was someone from the collateral branches who could be chosen as a successor. Why should it go to his own daughter?

Lawson, still fuming, turned to Vance and asked, “Before Geoffrey passed, was this truly how he specified things?”

“Yes,” Vance replied. “He said it was to make up for the years of hardship she endured at the manor. I actually suggested, if he thought I was incapable, to pick someone from the collateral branches. At least that way, the Langley family could retain its honor. But he refused and insisted on compensating her.”

“How did he die, exactly? Was it really from illness?” Lawson’s suspicion grew. Vance’s story had always been airtight, but Isolde had made such a public display of things—inviting so many people, even the local officials and Riley—there had to be something more to it.

Vance’s face darkened. “It was both illness and injury. He was gravely wounded while in Zloimond. He sacrificed himself for Isolde. Do you think everything she achieved was solely her own doing? No—Geoffrey helped her! She has no true ability. If it weren’t for Oliver and Geoffrey, she would have been dead in Zloimond with her flimsy tricks. Kamari’s soldiers were formidable. Without them, she would never have survived.”

A man who had returned from Argentum looked at Vance, saying, “But I heard he died by his own hand.”

“Ridiculous!” Vance snapped. “Do you believe those rumors? People are saying my mother killed Prunella, but is that true? Of course not!”

Lawson, eyeing Vance closely, asked, “Why didn’t your mother’s remains get moved to the family grave?”

“Geoffrey’s decision,” Vance replied bitterly. “He said my mother could not be buried there, so they hastily buried her elsewhere.”

An elder from the family scowled. “This is outrageous! Your mother was your father’s legitimate wife. After her death, according to tradition, she should have been buried alongside your father, Stafford. But now Lizbeth, the concubine, is buried beside him, while the legitimate wife, Prudence, is absent. Isn’t that a joke?”

Vance seethed with anger. “Lizbeth is Geoffrey’s birth mother; of course, he would side with her. Prudence…”

Everyone present was infuriated by Vance’s words and no longer doubted what he said.

As Isolde and Oliver prepared to dine before her parents’ altars, Isolde said softly, “Regarding today, don’t blame me for not leaving room for compromise. If the ancestral grave won’t accommodate you, we’ll find another place. As long as you two are together, I think whether it’s the family grave or not doesn’t matter.”

Oliver walked beside her, helping her to clear her mind. “What you said earlier—are you really planning to bury them somewhere else?” he asked.

“Yes,” Isolde replied, adjusting her hair. “I remembered what Jessica and Marley both said—my mother was happiest at Montlins Manor. So, I want to bury them there. Honestly, as long as the people you love are close to you, the location doesn’t matter. As long as they’re together, I think they’d be much happier at Montlins Manor.”

Oliver agreed wholeheartedly. “Yes, you’re right. We can’t live together, but we can rest together. As long as we’re together, it’s home, no matter where.”

Isolde’s fingers intertwined with his, the warmth spreading through her chest, filling her with a sense of peace and happiness. Yes, as long as the people she cared about were with her, it didn’t matter where they were.

“If we’re going to bury them at Montlins Manor, we should quickly deal with this mess here and leave immediately,” Oliver suggested.

“This is just my initial thought,” Isolde confessed, a touch of sadness in her voice. “I still need to discuss it with Clark. And I don’t know how my father would feel about it. I’m afraid I might not be doing what he would want.”

Geoffrey, as a concubine’s son, was usually disregarded in the family, but would that make him long for the family’s approval even more? She wasn’t sure. She had never complied with him in her life. She wanted to do something for him, but she feared she might make the wrong decision.

“What you do for him, he will certainly appreciate,” Oliver reassured her.

Isolde paused, then asked quietly, “Oliver, do you think I’ve been a terrible person?”

“Why would you say that?” Oliver stopped walking, turning to look at her. The firelight from the camp flickered from the other side, casting a soft, melancholic glow on her face.

“I’ve known all along that he wasn’t truly heartless,” she said. “He became this way after my mother’s death, but I couldn’t accept it. Actually, the one who’s heartless is me, isn’t it? I tortured him with my own thoughts before he died.”

Oliver gently ran his hand through her hair, comforting her. “No father and daughter are without their struggles. He carried his concerns for you until the end. Now you’re grieving over your actions, so the bond between you two isn’t broken—it’s just delayed. You’ll have time to make amends in the next life.”

Isolde smiled bitterly. “Is that so?”

“You should never give up hope, no matter the situation.”

This church belonged to the Langley family, and her father, though part of it, could never enter its doors. He was never truly accepted.

Suddenly, Isolde made up her mind. “Yes, we shouldn’t give up hope, but hope shouldn’t depend on others. Let’s return and discuss things with Clark.”

“Alright,” Oliver said softly, gently taking her hand and leading her back.

Clark was still awake, lying on his mat, deep in thought. When he heard Isolde and Oliver were coming to discuss something, he lit the lamp and sat up, still wrapped in his thin blanket, his nose bright red from the cold. The air was freezing, and the thin blanket was barely enough for warmth, forcing him to wear thick clothes while sleeping, but still, he couldn’t cover his face and head.

He sniffed his dry nose and asked, “What’s going on?”