Building a Harem in a Noble House-Chapter 70: Alexander’s Heir

The front doors swung open before we even reached them, and out stepped the Greaves family. Lord Greaves was first, tall and broad-shouldered with salt-and-pepper hair and a beard that screamed authority. Beside him, Lady Greaves, elegant in a flowing green gown, her dark hair pinned up, eyes sharp but warm. And trailing behind, Laurence, Isobel’s brother, maybe a year or two older than her, lanky with the same black hair but tousled, wearing a simple vest and trousers like he was allergic to formality.

"My little girl!" Lady Greaves rushed forward first, pulling her daughter into a hug that Isobel returned tentatively at first, then fully. It was the first time Isobel had spoken to them since the move, the longest stretch ever without contact, she’d said. It was no wonder, then, that both women were already shaking, emotion clearly having overcome both.

"I missed you so much," Lady Greaves said, voice shaky.

"I missed you more," Isobel responded, barely above a whisper.

Lord Greaves clapped me on the shoulder next, his grip firm. "Lord May! It’s good to see you again." He chuckled, but his eyes were on Isobel, soft.

"Likewise, Lord Greaves. Thank you for having me."

Laurence hung back, nodding at me. "Yeah, congrats. Sucks I missed the drama, though. Heard there was a big fight."

"Yeah. Too bad nobody recorded on Enchanted Parchment. It would’ve been a fun watch." I mused, though I doubted I wanted to see what I looked like during the Mind Break Spell.

Isobel pulled back from the hug, her cheeks pink. "I’m happy for you all. This place is amazing. But... I..." She paused, lowering her gaze. "It’s gonna take some getting used to, I think."

Lady Greaves smoothed her daughter’s braid. "We know, dear. Change is hard. But we’re here now."

Lord Greaves cleared his throat, his "lordly bearing"–as Lyra would’ve put it–kicking in.

"On that note, I’ve got something to show you, Isobel. Let’s get this out of the way now before you begin to settle."

She glanced at me, then squeezed my arm, her fingers lingering. "I want Lloyd with me." Her voice was steady, but the touch sent a flush up my neck. I blushed hard, feeling the heat creep to my ears.

Lady Greaves arched a brow, intrigued, a small smile playing on her lips. Laurence snorted. "God. I’m going back to my room."

Lord Greaves just nodded, accepting it without fuss. "Very well. Follow me to the cellar. Savrah, prepare the rooms for these two and Miss Knight."

"As you wish," Savrah bowed, all traces of her prior timidness gone.

"And don’t forget about what I asked you to do. My task takes priority," Lady Greaves added, nudging her husband with an elbow. He didn’t protest, instead nodding once in understanding.

"A-as you wish..." Savrah bowed again, all traces of her prior timidness returning.

He turned, gesturing us to follow as he led the way through the house–past the grand foyer with its crystal chandelier and down polished stone steps that smelled of earth and aged wood before finally leading us to the cellar. The room smelled of damp wood, racks of bottles lining the walls as lanterns flickered with magical light. In the center, on a wooden table under a small lamp, sat a bundle of letters, yellowed and tied with faded ribbon.

"I doubt you’ve seen these before, Isobel," Lord Greaves started. "Read them."

"Who wrote them?" Isobel asked, tentatively unhooking her arm from mine.

"They’re... from your grandfather." Lord Greaves revealed, his voice low. "He wrote them... near the end."

"Are you sure I should touch them...?" Isobel asked, voice soft, almost reverent.

"As his sole living child, I grant you permission."

Isobel nodded as she picked one up, her hands trembling slightly as she unfolded it. I stood close, reading over her shoulder.

The words were in Alexander’s neat script, tired but determined. He’d been exhausted for years, carrying the weight of House Greaves like a heavy iron. That wasn’t the part that had Isobel stunned silent, though. No, not at all. It was the admission in this letter The one Isobel likely wasn’t supposed to know about. The one that had Lord Greaves uncharacteristically stiff beside us.

The admission that Isobel was supposed to be his successor.

While he was alive, he’d known that his son didn’t have the heart to lead. Alexander didn’t hold it against him, though. On the contrary, he approved of that fact. He believed House on Charred Lands shouldn’t be led by someone whose heart wasn’t fully in it. Isobel, the spitting image of Isabella–the woman she was named after–clearly had it. Alexander’s intention was to groom Isobel as his successor, send his son and his family off to this vineyard, for lack of any better words, see Isobel off. Unfortunately, death came earlier than he’d been prepared for, forcing his son into the role not meant for him.

"He loved this spot," Lord Greaves added, gesturing around. "Used the last of his personal wealth to buy it outright. Of course, because it hadn’t been used, it fell on hard times. Safe to say we’ve fixed it up, though."

Isobel’s eyes glistened as she set the letter down. "Did I... let him down? Selling House Greaves... it was my call, in the end. If he’d wanted me to lead..."

"No, you didn’t," I found myself saying. "I spoke to him in Fairy World, remember? He gave his blessing, Isobel. The man was as proud as can be."

Lord Greaves nodded, pulling out another letter. "He wrote about the House like it was bigger than us. So long as a man or woman with the good of Aspia in their heart and a fire burning in their soul has control, the House will stand. Both of you have honored his wishes. Be proud."

She looked up, tears spilling now, and threw her arms around her father. "I’m sorry for being so difficult. The fights, the distance... I was just scared."

He hugged her back, strong arms enveloping her. "And I’m sorry for disappointing you, Isobel. I love you."

"I love you, too!"

They held on, murmuring kind words and loving sentiments that echoed softly in the cellar. Isobel pulled away, wiping her eyes, and glanced at the stairs.

"I need to talk to Mom. I was so harsh to her leading up to the move... Please, excuse me."

She squeezed my hand once more before heading up, leaving me alone with Lord Greaves.

I turned to follow, but his hand shot out, grabbing my shoulder. His hand wasn’t aggressive, but it was quite firm.

"Lloyd. A word, if you would." His eyes bored into mine with that lordly bearing behind them.

"Of course!" I answered, keeping my voice firm.

"Don’t betray my daughter. She clearly trusts you. Loves you. Do not take advantage of that." 𝑓𝘳𝘦𝑒𝑤𝑒𝘣𝘯ℴ𝘷𝘦𝓁.𝑐𝑜𝑚

There was that hint of aggression. I maintained my cool nonetheless. "Isobel is a dear friend to me, Lord Greaves. I would never betray or intentionally hurt her."

The man nodded, removing his hand from my shoulder. "Very well. I suppose time will tell how truthful your words are." He smiled slightly. "No, what was that about Fairy World? It seems Ovard’s recounting wasn’t as thorough as I thought."