Building a Harem in a Noble House

Chapter 104: You’re Lucky, Lloyd May.

She stood, adjusting her armor with a clank, and followed me out of the dining room, leaving Isobel to her scheming and Lyra to whatever sudden chore spree had gripped her. The manor halls stretched out quietly under the moonlight filtering through arched windows, polished floors echoing our steps, and tapestries donated by the Greaves Family hanging along the walls. House May wasn’t some sprawling castle, but it was vast in its own right: wings for quarters, libraries stuffed with lore, training halls, an unused Throne Room, a terrifying war room... even a garden!

We started simple, heading to the bathing chambers first. It was a steamy oasis tucked off the main corridor. Marble pools steamed gently, enchanted runes keeping the water perpetually hot, scented with herbs from a local apothecary. "This is where you unwind after a long day of fighting," I said, gesturing to the room. "There are two–split by gender–, but since I’m the only guy, you guys can use mine whenever I’m not."

Meredith peered in, her berry scent mixing oddly with the lavender steam. "Impressive. More luxurious than the tub in my old apartment."

She didn’t linger, so we moved on to the training rooms: a series of chambers with wooden floors, racks of wooden weapons and shields, even a small forge for quick repairs. Dummies scarred from countless strikes lined the walls, and a faint hum of residual magic hung in the air from Isobel and Lyra’s practice spells.

"Here’s where the sweat happens," I explained. "No Instructor yet, so it’s not like we have sanctioned training, but we try to get a few hours in every day. Lyra and Isobel are both mages, but I’m a swordfighter–so I’ll be your training partner if you need me."

She nodded, eyeing the setup with approval. "Great. I look forward to our many duels."

Next, the Royal Battlegrounds. We walked past the vineyard trellis into the wide open battlefield surrounded by the statues of fallen Greaves Family leaders. I explained the history to them, which made me feel like Isobel. I laughed, even as I explained the entire Greaves House sale to her like it was a funny bedtime story.

From there, we wandered the orchard–rows of apple and pear trees heavy with fruit, moonlight silvering the leaves. Lanterns hung from branches, warding off pests with soft glows.

Finally, the vast manor itself: grand staircases spiraling up to bedrooms, a library with shelves groaning under tomes, a kitchen that could feed an army. We looped through halls lined with the landscape portraits we’d recently purchased. It was a lot to take in, but Meredith absorbed it all with quiet nods, her presence making the familiar feel new.

We ended at her bedroom, a cozy suite on the upper floor: a four-poster bed draped in deep blue linens, a hearth crackling low, and windows overlooking the orchard. There was a fairly large chest beneath the window, a vanity mirror and chair to the left of it, and an armor stand at the far corner of the room.

"Why the hell is her room nicer than mine...? All I have is a bed, a cabinet, and a window..."

Meredith stepped in, taking the sight in, then sat on the bed’s edge, the mattress dipping under her weight. "You’re lucky, Lloyd May."

"For what?" I asked, surprised by her words.

"For your friends. Isobel. Lyra. They love you. Respect you. Look up to you. It was clear as day. It says many things about your character, Lloyd May."

I leaned against the doorframe, crossing my arms. "We all respect each other here. No one’s the linchpin, despite my title as ’Lord’. Isobel’s the brains, Lyra’s the heart, and I’m the face. It’s a team effort, one you’re going to be a part of soon."

She fiddled with her gauntlet, gaze dropping. "I... look forward to the day I can contribute to this House. I don’t wish to get in the way of you all."

"Why would you?"

"Forgive my trepidation. I’m simply not used to... this. Closeness. Friendship. Intimacy. Perhaps I’d grown accustomed to my cat being my only friend?"

I pushed off the doorframe, sitting beside her on the bed. Her berry scent was stronger up close. The mattress creaked under us both. "What about the other recruits at the Order? You aren’t close with any of them?"

Meredith’s jaw tightened, her tone sharpening just a bit. "They’re an insufferable lot. The strong ones... the nobility... were born with silver spoons and divine blessings handed down like heirlooms. They only respect their own kind, look down on anyone without a name. The weaker ones? They fawn, kiss up for a sponsorship, changing faces like chameleons. It reminds me of the orphanage I grew up in. The kids would act sweet and innocent when potential parents visited, then dropping the mask in private. It was all so two-faced. So exhausting. I could never play that game. I never wished to. Which is why, to this... well... it’s why before today, Colonel Charcoal–er, my cat, was my only friend."

Her words hung heavy, painting pictures of a lonely grind I hadn’t fully grasped before. Internally, it twisted something in me. This Meredith always circled back to that "cat", like it was her anchor. I know our Meredith asked me to consider this one to be her own woman, but I still couldn’t help myself from considering how much it must’ve hurt to have to bond with her Life Warden. Sure, it meant the two were literally as close as could be–they fused for goodness sake–, but it also meant that she would never speak to her only friend ever again.

Considering he existed now, and somehow seemed to have memories of our loops–which presented its own problems–that should’ve eased my pain. But it didn’t. Knowing our Meredith truly was alone for years before she met us. Knowing this Meredith was alone. Knowing that Meredith, regardless of timeline, was doomed to be alone to some extent, broke my heart in ways I wasn’t expecting.

Without thinking, I wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her into a tight hold. She tensed at first, then leaned in, her armored side cool against me, that awkward kinship from earlier blooming into something real.