Building a Harem in a Noble House-Chapter 71: Why Don’t You Take a Seat?

I stepped out of the cellar, cool, damp air clinging to my skin, only to be replaced by the warmth of the main house, which hit me right away. The vineyard estate was still buzzing outside. Waves crashed on the beach as I heard distant laughter from the fields where Lyra was likely turning those poor kids into monsters, but my mind was on Isobel. She’d bolted up the stairs after that heart-to-heart with her dad, saying she needed to talk to her mom. Fair enough. It wasn’t my place to intrude there. But it had been a while now, and the place was huge. Bigger than I’d expected, sprawling rooms and hallways that twisted like they were designed to get you lost on purpose. Besides, she was my partner here! Without her, I was left to face these awkward interactions alone! I wasn’t antisocial or anything, but meeting my lovers family without her as an intermediary was a special kind of awkward.

So... I looked for her. Aimlessly.

I wandered through the foyer, past some more of those enchanted rugs that still shimmered like ocean waves underfoot, peeking into the sunroom where we’d seen the first set of them. Empty. Dining room? Nope... Just a couple of butlers setting the table for a meal. I continued to walk.

"Isobel?" I called out as I went up a flight of stairs, not wanting to yell and draw attention. No answer.

The house felt alive in a quiet way. Creaks from settling wood, the faint hum of magic in the walls keeping everything lit and cozy, winds carrying birdsongs and distant conversations... but this "living house" was starting to feel like a maze. It reminded me of House Greaves back before I knew the layout of the place... And I didn’t have an Isobel to help me get a lay of the land!

I pushed through a side door into what looked like a sitting room, velvet couches and bookshelves crammed with dusty books on grape grafting and Aspian history. Sunlight slanted in through tall windows, casting long shadows across the floor. No Isobel. My boots echoed on the polished stone as I kept moving, down a corridor lined with portraits of Greaves family ancestors who were staring down with stern eyes.

I paused by a window overlooking the vineyard, vines heavy with grapes swaying in the breeze. Maybe it was the distant seabreeze, or maybe it was the forced moment of reprieve I’d been given, but I was starting to feel a bit reflective. It’d been a while since I could just... unwind. Get lost in my own thoughts. Everything’s been happening so quickly between the House, my relationship with Isobel, my... shifting relationship with Lyra, and, most importantly, my promise to the House itself. To Isabella. Part of me wished there was someone I could talk to about everything. Who knew the future and could tell me if I was going the right way. In any other timeline, spending a night here would be a tremendous waste of a day when every second counted towards beating the Demon Lord. Now, though? Who knew? I could be on the right track. But, I could also be on the complete wrong track, and spending time here actually was a waste of time.

I stepped away from the window, moving to leave this study. "I’ll have to trust my gut, I guess. This run’s been so out of whack that I don’t think old rules apply anymore..."

I opened the door, prepared to resume my search–and distract myself from my more pensive thoughts–only to walk directly into someone who’d been moving to enter the room. I caught myself, reaching out to steady the figure before they hit the floor. It was the maid from earlier, Savrah Dhosil She’d dropped a stack of linens, and they scattered like white petals.

"Crap! I’m sorry! You okay?"

She blinked up at me with her red eyes, pointy ears twitching slightly. "Y-yes, milord. Clumsy me."

I helped her up, brushing off her sleeve. She gathered the linens quickly, but her hands shook a bit.

"Hey, have you seen Isobel? I’m looking for her. She was heading to talk to her mom, but I’ve checked half the house."

Savrah nodded, avoiding my gaze at first before peeking up slightly. "I... I have. She’s in her mother’s room. The Lady actually sent for you. Follow me if you would, milord."

She started leading me down the hall, her steps quicker now, but something felt... off. The corridor was far too quiet. No chatter from other staff, just our footsteps echoing. And she kept her eyes down, like they were glued to the floor. Then, out of nowhere, her hand brushed my forearm, gripping lightly.

"T-this floor was just mopped," she’d said when I turned to her. "The soap used is notoriously slippery."

She led me through more twisting halls, arched doorways and tapestries depicting Greaves Family history. The air grew warmer, scented with lavender, patchouli, and hints of coffee as we approached a heavy oak door carved with intricate vines.

"Through here," she murmured, her hand sliding up my back as I opened the door. "Give Lady Greaves my regards, milord. If you’ll excuse me."

I blinked, adjusting to the room. It was a bedroom, no doubt: a massive four-poster bed draped in deep green silks sat at the far wall, a vanity cluttered with perfumes and jewels stood across from it, windows overlooking the sea with gauzy curtains billowing beside it. And there, standing by the hearth across from the bed, was Lady Greaves. Isobel’s mother, tall and poised, her dark hair loose now, falling in waves. She wore a simple green robe speckled with expensive-looking jewels and golden patterns.

"Lloyd May," she said, voice smooth as aged wine. "I’ve been waiting for an opportunity to speak to you in private like this." She turned to me, smiling in a way that reminded me of her daughter. "I instructed Savrah to lead you here whenever the opportunity arose. I’d say she did well, didn’t she? She waited for you to be separated from Isobel, trapped you in series of Dimension Doors, then led you straight here. Crafty little thing, that one. She’s gonna be a 5-Star Wizard someday."

"If you wanted to speak to me alone, you could’ve just asked." I paused, considering something. "Did you speak with Isobel? Savrah said she’d be here."

"I did. We had a long, overdue conversation. Right now, though, Isobel is a bit occupied. A few of the maids are leading her on a little goose chase through the east wing. It’ll buy us time, but not that much. She’s a cunning girl. But of course she is. She’s my daughter, after all." She poured two glasses of wine from a decanter, handing me one. She flicked her wrist, summoning a lavish-looking set of chairs with a wave of her hand. "Now, come sit. I’d like to speak with you."