The Swordswoman’s Revenge Story after Rebirth

Chapter 415: Guarding the Final Night

Isolde said, “Clark, since this place doesn’t seem suitable for our parents, I think there’s no need to insist on burying them in the ancestral grave. Mother always liked Montlins Manor, and I’m sure Father would have wanted to be with her there. How about we bury them at Montlins Manor?”

Clark was somewhat surprised. “You think that way?”

Isolde knew that Clark was a man of principles, so she explained, “I haven’t decided yet; I’m just discussing it with you. What do you think?”

Clark thought for a moment before replying, “That might not be a good idea. If the ancestral grave wasn’t available, scattering the ashes elsewhere might not matter, but now that we have the tomb, and our ancestors’ graves have been gathered there, the Langley family has roots here. If we bury them elsewhere, it could be seen as denying that my father was a true Langley family descendant. I’m afraid my father’s spirit wouldn’t rest peacefully.”

Isolde wasn’t prepared with any strong arguments to convince him—she was simply going by her heart. She knew there were things she hadn’t thought through. Would Father resent her for moving his resting place?

Oliver spoke up, “I honestly don’t see it as a big issue. Many court officials and marquises are buried in special plots, not in their family’s ancestral graves. I think Geoffrey and Prunella were deeply connected to Argentum. They probably would have preferred to remain there, close to the people they cared about.”

Clark responded, “That’s true, but when Father bought the land for the ancestral grave, perhaps his intention was still to be buried there. Isolde, if we don’t use the ancestral grave, where do you plan to bury them?”

Isolde replied, “Mother liked Montlins Manor, so I would like to bury them there.”

“But we don’t know the energy equilibrium of Montlins Manor. We never had a master assess it.”

“Montlins Manor is so large; I’m sure we can find a good spot,” Isolde said, looking at him. “But this decision must have your approval because you’re their son. You’ll be the one to tend to the incense and offerings in the future.”

Clark hesitated. Emotionally, he wanted his parents to be buried in Argentum, where he could visit them easily. But he also knew that Prunella would be pleased if she could rest at Montlins Manor. Still, there was something about the ancestral grave that pulled at him—the Langley family had deep roots there. Would it be wrong to move them? He smiled wryly. “If Father’s spirit could offer some guidance, it would make things easier.”

Seeing his dilemma, Isolde said gently, “There’s no rush to decide tonight. Tomorrow, we’ll meet with the authorities and Riley. We’ll clarify things, and if they insist on the ancestral grave, then I’ll sell the land and bring their coffins back to Argentum.”

Clark nodded. “I’ll think on it tonight. You two go rest. If there’s anything, we’ll discuss it tomorrow morning. I’ll guard the site tonight. Oliver, you don’t need to swap shifts with me. I’ll take a blanket over there.”

The past few days, Oliver and Clark had been taking shifts, with no one else required to stand guard.

“No, Isolde and I aren’t going to bed so early. We’ll stay and keep watch,” Oliver said.

Isolde replied, “If that’s the case, let’s all stay awake tonight, keep them company, chat, and pretend they’re still here.”

Oliver and Clark agreed, and each went back to grab a blanket before heading over.

The tent was set up on level ground with mats beneath. The coffin and urn were placed in the center. The three of them sat around the fire, using their blankets as backrests, a pot of wine warming beside them. It was surprisingly comfortable.

“It’s actually warmer sitting here than lying in bed,” Clark commented.

Isolde looked around the room and said, “I remember when I was young at the manor. Winter nights were so cold, and Nanny wouldn’t let us go out to play. But knowing how stubborn I was and how I couldn’t sit still, she’d gather a few of the little workers and maids to sit inside by the fire, occasionally tossing a few sweet potatoes into the flames. The smell of them roasting was so good. Back then, even though I didn’t have my family around, I was still happy. Honestly, did I really live a worse life than anyone else? Those nannies were like family to me, and there was also Helena.”

Oliver had rarely heard her speak about the manor, so tonight, hearing her memories made him ask, “Who was in charge of the manor?”

Isolde replied, “When I was young, it was a few nannies. Later, the manor hired a steward. Collin used to manage things there, but he left. By the time I was ten, Nanny had me learn how to manage the accounts. I wasn’t interested, so I focused on overseeing the workers and harvest. During harvest season, it was busy, but when things were quiet, it was peaceful.”

Oliver and Clark imagined it—this little girl running around the mountains with a group of workers, the sun beating down on them, the workers sweating and blackened by the heat, while the girl’s smile must have been the brightest thing in the scene.

Isolde continued, “You know, growing up, I never really thought of it as hard work. I thought life was just like that. But the nannies would always say I was a noble girl who had been left in a mountain valley. They said it so often, I started to feel abandoned. Besides that, I really was happy.”

She took a sip from the wine pot and let out a deep breath. “You know, why do I still care about being left at the manor? Why hold onto that grudge? Those children who stayed with their parents—did they really have it better than me? Maybe not.”

Oliver took her hand gently. “Yes, and I’m grateful for that experience, because it shaped you into the person you are today. The person I’ve come to admire.”

Isolde looked at him, nodding with a hint of sadness in her eyes.

“Don’t dwell on the past hurts or regrets. Everyone has them. Your bond with your father and your family is too complicated to be severed so easily,” Oliver said softly.

Clark added, “I believe that when Father passed, he was at peace.”

He turned to Oliver. “By the way, did Father leave a letter for you? What did it say?”

Oliver took out a letter from his chest pocket and handed it to Clark. “I was going to wait until after the burial to show it to you. But it has some things he wanted to say to you.”

Clark reached out, took the letter, and began to open it.