Her Majestic Battle Cry

Chapter 1253

Though Malcolm had refused all visitors, he personally took Marjorie to call on Carissa.

As usual, Carissa welcomed them, but there was little to say between her and Malcolm, Jacob filled the silence with conversation, while Carissa led Marjorie to the side garden for tea.

Marjorie had rarely ventured out in the past year and had grown noticeably thinner, though there was a quiet calm about her now.

She no longer seemed so tightly wound.

In the past, Marjorie had always reminded herself that, as the matriarch of the Quinton family, she needed to uphold the proper demeanor. Even if she disliked something, she wouldn’t let it show on her face.

She had always been hard on herself, but now, it seemed as though she had let go of some of that burden. She had come to realize that some things just had to be taken as they came. As long as she didn’t cross any lines, it was enough. Perfection wasn’t required.

Marjorie apologized to Carissa for not raising her daughter better. She had always thought she did everything perfectly, but in reality, there were few things she truly excelled at.

–

But she had come to accept that it didn’t matter. If a person could do even one thing really well in their lifetime and feel truly satisfied, that would be enough.

Carissa smiled and said, “Who among us doesn’t have regrets? Just be kind to yourself from

now on.”

Marjorie’s gaze grew distant. “Yes, being kind to oneself makes life a little more free, doesn’t it?”

Carissa felt that breaking down your old self and rebuilding a new one was an incredibly difficult thing to do.

But Marjorie had done it, and that was remarkable.

“Oh, and please pass a message to Lord Gerald for me. I’ve already begun searching for the person he asked me to find. I’ll let him know as soon as I have news.”

Marjorie admired Carissa’s determination to follow through on her words and her unwavering commitment to her promises. She stood up, bowed, and said, “Thank you, Your Grace.”

The person Gerald was looking for wasn’t hard for Carissa to track down. Claire and her team had already sent out inquiries–name, address, background. No matter how hidden the person was, they would likely find them. Perhaps Gerald hadn’t really looked, or maybe he hadn’t dared.

Jacob and Malcolm hadn’t had much to talk about. One was a strategist for the Hell Monarch’s household, the other was the current head of the Civil Department. Their interests didn’t align, and even their coffee preferences were different.

+25 ROMUS

The awkwardness stretched until Marjorie reappeared. Jacob eagerly ushered them out.

After they left, Jacob turned to Carissa and said, The Quinton family’s been lying low for the last few years. They can’t afford to stand out, not with all that’s happened. Lord Malcolm looks completely drained.”

Carissa nodded. “Yes. In the past, they would walk with their heads held high, but now, they seem hunched. It’s clear that a large family isn’t always an advantage. The more there is to manage, the more mistakes slip through. Everywhere you look, there are cracks.”

“His Highness‘ decision to avoid expansion makes sense,” Jacob remarked, genuinely admiring Rafael’s wisdom.

Since Rafael had been brought up, Carissa couldn’t help but ask again, “Still no word?”

“Not yet,” Jacob replied, his worry evident.

It had been a month since the last letter, and there was still no news.

Jacob tried to comfort her. “Perhaps it’s difficult for them to send word, given that they’re deep in those mountains. But with His Highness and Mr. Spencer’s skills, there’s no need to worry. Plus, Mr. Ziegler and Mr. Mullen are with them.”

Carissa nodded. “Yes, you’re right.”

Still, despite the reassurances, a month without news had turned her initial longing into deep

concern.

As the days wore on, Carissa’s anxiety grew, making her restless and uneasy. At times, she would take a break at midday and visit Gracewood Women’s Academy or Skye Embroidery. There, she found a sense of calm, if only for a while.

The students were mostly children between seven and ten years old, and most of them didn’t know how to read. Teaching had to start from scratch, which took a lot of effort.

Still, both Catherine and Rosalind said the atmosphere at the academy was excellent. The students were eager to learn, and every task assigned was completed without complaint.

The schedule had originally included a half–day break for the girls to help at home. But after some time, the girls themselves suggested that they should study the whole day instead, returning only in the evening to assist with household chores and needlework.

Courtney and the other noble girls had become much more focused than before. The academy’s influence had molded them, and there were no longer any cliques or petty noveldrama

arguments. If there was ever a disagreement, it was settled with just a few words. The moment

a teacher arrived, everyone lowered their heads and admitted fault.

They all understood how rare the opportunity to study was. Without Gracewood Women’s Academy, most of them would never have known how to write their names.