Building a Harem in a Noble House-Chapter 89: She’s Family...!

You know that feeling when you think your house looks good, but then you see a really nice house, and it makes you want to redo your whole setup?

That’s where we were right now. Following that trip to the Greaves Family Estate, a fire lit under us all to fix the place up. We hadn’t turned the place as lavish as the Greaves manor, but it was still nice. We had a tablecloth in the dining room now, with plush seats, nicer silverware, a few landscape paintings, and a better chandelier! I don’t think it was enough to make Edith Greaves’ soul move on our anything, but it was enough to give us a little more pride in the place.

We were lounging around in there now, the three of us sprawled out like we’d just conquered the world and deserved a victory nap. Lyra was kicked back in one of the new chairs, her boots propped up on the edge of the table in a way that would have scandalized any proper noble. She was flipping through a spellbook she’d picked up from some Quest we’d taken recently, the pages yellowed and crinkled from years of use. Her blonde hair was tied back in a messy ponytail that had strands escaping everywhere, framing her face in that effortlessly wild way she pulled off.

Me? I was slouched at the head of the table, the self-appointed throne spot, picking at a plate of cheeses and crusty bread we’d scrounged from the kitchens earlier. The air in the room hung heavy with the scent of fresh-baked loaves still warm from the oven, mingled with the faint, earthy aroma from Isobel’s herbs and a hint of the beeswax polish we’d used on the new furniture. It was peaceful. Quiet.

But my mind wasn’t on the quiet. Nor was Lyra’s, I knew. That girl never reads. That was Isobel’s thing, and she was too busy eating at the seat across from Lyra to do that.

"Hey, Lyra," I said, breaking the comfortable silence as I popped a chunk of sharp cheddar into my mouth. "You still thinking about Meredith?"

Lyra looked up from her book with wide eyes. "What do you think?! Of course I am!"

Isobel cleared her throat then, a soft but deliberate sound that cut through our enthusiasm like a knife through butter. Her eyes flicked between Lyra and me, a mix between sympathy and mild annoyance. "For the last time, I understand Meredith may be a powerful fighter in your time, but we aren’t in your time. We’re in the present. And in the present, Meredith is little more than a Paladin recruit. Sure, her potential may be sky-high, but is she so strong right now that it’s worth pursuing her over a stronger recruit?"

I leaned forward, my chair creaking under the shift, elbows planted on the table as a twinge of defensiveness bubbled up in my chest. Isobel wasn’t wrong–she rarely was–but it stung to think of Meredith out there, grinding away in the shadows without us knowing. Alone, pushing through the pain of drills and the weight of expectations, her proper speech clashing with the crude banter of the halls. The Meredith I knew was hardened, but, by her own admission, that’d come after reaching a breaking point in her youth. If I connected the dots, that "breaking point" was going to come any day now!

"Come on, Isobel. It’s not about what she is today; it’s about what she can become. Even if she’s not polished yet, we could bring her in, give her the tools. House May’s got the space and the resources to train her. Why wait?"

Lyra jumped in before I could ramble on, her voice animated as she closed her spellbook with a resounding thud. She gestured with her hands, painting pictures in the air like she was casting an illusion spell. "Exactly what Lloyd said! Recruit her and train her up from the ground. Meredith’s a diamond in the rough. Give her a polish with proper gear and guidance, and she’s a perfect gem! We can’t just wait around."

Isobel shook her head slowly. "I don’t like being the bad guy, you know." She looked between us, eyes narrowing. "But think strategically, both of you. Have you heard the idiom about being as strong as your weakest link? A weak Paladin is an exploitable weakness. We can’t afford to pour resources into someone who can’t fight close to our level. What if threats come knocking tomorrow? We need a warrior who can protect the House as soon as possible. If anything, we can recruit her when she’s gotten stronger–unless she proves that she’s already a formidable fighter. For now, though, we need to search for potential Paladins who fight at a 4 or 5 Star level."

She paused there, letting her words sink in, then slid a sketch across the table toward us. It was a rough map of the city, inked with precise lines— the sprawl of the markets, the squat bulk of the Adventurer’s Guild, the towering spires of the Paladin training halls marked with little crosses. Spots circled key areas: taverns where mercenaries gathered, posting boards in the Guild, even the orphanage districts where raw talents like Lyra and me sometimes hid.

"That’s why we’re having tryouts. Starting in two days, bright and early, in the courtyard. I had some local kids place fliers around the city. Handed them out in the squares, nailed them to guild walls, even slipped a few under tavern doors. Word is the Order of Paladins was lobbied by some of the newer Noble Houses to force sponsorship on the Paladin recruits, meaning there’s a host of hopefuls looking for a Noble House to recruit them."

Lyra frowned, her arms crossing over her chest as she leaned back, the chair protesting with a soft creak. She chewed her lip like she was weighing her ideals against reality. "I appreciate what you’re doing for us, Isobel, I really do. But I just... Meredith... she’s family...!"

"I’m well aware, Lyra, but you two have become part of mine, and I can’t afford to allow you to make poor decisions for the sake of love. Again, if she happens to be impressive, you can disregard everything I’ve said here, but if she isn’t..."