Getting spoiled in a woman dominating world-Chapter 93: The Bleaufort Estate [2]

Brandon just sat there and watched Florence laughing like a manic... the noble elegance she was maintaining till now shattered and she laughed like a crazy woman.

He slowly turned his gaze to Eira who just smiled dryly "Well, she is kind of... idiot."

Brandon blinked. "That’s your mom."

Eira shrugged as if that said everything.

Florence wiped the corner of her eye with one finger as she finally sat up straighter, "That was fun," she grinned.

She placed a hand on her chest and muttered "I always admired those scenes from the old dramas—you know, where the noble matriarch rejects the poor but noble-hearted youth and then comes around in the last act?"

"You should have seen me at the annual celebration in the Academy back then. I played the Mad Witch of Caerra and got a standing ovation."

Brandon stared at her, still processing, as Eira groaned beside him.

"You’re such a drama queen," she muttered under her breath.

"I warned you not to mess around with him like this."

Florence just giggled "But look at his expression! It’s adorable. He looked so serious.. as if he would fight anything for his love."

Eira just let out a sigh and turned to Brandon "Let me reintroduce her, this is my mom, Florence, also known as dumb bitch."

Hearing this, Florence’s eyebrows twitched in irritation "Excuse me?" she said in that high, offended noblewoman’s voice "is that how you introduce me to my son-in-law? You ungrateful child."

Eira glared at her mother "Shut up, woman."

Brandon couldn’t help but chuckle, thinking, what a nice and chaotic family.

Eira patted his hand and spoke "Brandon, don’t be scared of her. She acts like some powerful noble matriarch, but deep down she’s just dumb."

"I heard that," Florence said, sipping her tea with faux grace.

"She doesn’t cook, she can’t organize a bookshelf to save her life, and honestly?"

Eira sighed dramatically "I’m surprised she even survived all these years. Let alone gave birth to me and my sister."

Wait-

Brandon was taken aback "You have a Sister?"

Eira blinked in return and her lips parted slightly, as if surprised herself. "Oh... right. I never told you, did I?"

Brandon just stared "You never mentioned a sister."

With a sheepish shrug, Eira replied, "Yeah. I have a big sister. She’s... well, she’s not around much."

Brandon turned to look at Florence "But you said... your ’only daughter’ just now."

Florence grinned and tilted her head like a guilty fox. "Hmm? Oh, that?"

She waved her hand dismissively "Its part of the dialogue. I couldn’t very well say, ’One of my daughters’—it ruins the dramatic flair."

Eira took the teacup and handed it over to him "Here, Brandon."

With a nod, he accepted it and raised it to his lips before taking a sip.

Across from him, Florence watched with a pleased expression, "I see that my daughter wasn’t exaggerating when she spoke of you,"

"You are certainly a very handsome young lad. Clean features, a firm jawline, expressive eyes... and that quiet air of confidence. Yes, you’re quite the catch."

Brandon gave a slightly embarrassed chuckle, lowering the cup. "Thank you, Lady Florence."

Florence turned her gaze to her daughter and her smile softened, "Good choice, my daughter. Very good choice."

Eira had a big smile on her face as she replied "Thank you, Mom."

Florence leaned back slightly into the couch, her gaze sweeping over the two of them as if capturing a mental portrait. "To see you happy... that’s all a mother ever wants."

Then her eyes found Brandon again "I give you my blessing," she said softly.

"I wholeheartedly agree to your relationship."

"You are the only male awakener in the entire world," she continued, folding one leg over the other.

"And now, the Herald of the Church. That alone places you above even the highest of us. Regardless of where you were born or who you used to be, your position now... is unparalleled."

Taking another sip, she spoke "It would be foolish—no, blasphemous for anyone to reject your worth simply because you are a man. The world is changing. You are that change."

Eira’s hand tightened gently around Brandon’s.

Florence smiled at them both. "To have my daughter standing at your side... it is my honor."

Hearing this, Brandon smiled and replied in a serious tone "Thank you, Lady Florence,"

Florence gave a quiet hum. "Florence is fine, dear. ’Lady’ is far too formal for someone who may soon call me Mother."

Brandon couldn’t help but chuckle and took a sip of his tea.

"But on a more serious note," Florence said, setting her cup down gently, "you must understand... I am not like the other noble houses."

"Many of them will not accept this union so easily, especially not the ones with daughters who hoped to earn your favor."

Brandon nodded slowly. "I figured as much."

"The Bleaufort name carries weight," Florence continued, "but it also carries enemies,"

Eira’s eyes narrowed slightly at her mother’s words. "Mom?"

"I am just reminding you, darling." Florence replied, glancing at her.

"That protecting him doesn’t mean only from blades or assassins. It means navigating a web of politics, alliances, betrayals, and traditions that are centuries old."

"Eira, you will need to be stronger. More ruthless. You can’t protect him if you are soft."

Eira nodded her head "I know."

Florence’s eyes softened "I may be eccentric, dramatic, and—yes, I admit—a bit idiotic in the eyes of my dear daughter, but I am still the head of House Beaufort."

"You will both have my protection, and the resources of this House are yours to call upon."

Brandon’s eyes widened slightly. For a moment, he wasn’t sure what to say. So many people had viewed him through a lens of suspicion, awe, or fear ever since his awakening. Some bowed because of what he represented.

But Florence B’eaufort isn’t seeing him as the "Herald" or the only male Awakener.

She was looking at him as a young man sitting beside her daughter.

With a soft smile, he replied "Thank you, Florence."

Florence just nodded her head "That’s all the important things I wanted to say."

Then, to his surprise, she stood up from her seat across the table and promptly walked over to the couch where he and Eira were sitting.

Before Brandon could process it, she plopped herself down right beside him—and without warning, wrapped both arms around him in a tight, heartfelt hug.

"Now," she grinned as she pressed his head gently into her shoulder, "let’s enjoy each other as a family, shall we?"

"Eh—!?" Brandon’s body tensed in confusion and mild panic.

The teacup in his hand wobbled, almost tipping, but he managed to set it safely on the table before he got completely pulled in by the overly affectionate matriarch.

He felt the sheer strength in her arms as Florence hugged him tighter than any woman he had hugged in his life.

"I always wanted a son..." she sighed dramatically, burying her face briefly in his hair with the same energy of someone cuddling a long-lost puppy.

"Haa... someone to pamper, spoil, and dote on... finally."

He slowly turned his head to Eira with a pleading look in his eyes, as if silently asking ’Help?’

Eira snapped out of her surprise and shook her mother "Mom, what are you doing?"

Florence patted his back like a proud parent "My daughters are wonderful—of course, they are. But sons are different! You don’t understand until you’re older. There’s something... precious about them! So precious."

Eira’s eyebrow twitched in frustration "I’m right here, you know,"

Florence only laughed, still squeezing Brandon. "Yes, yes, you’re precious too. But this boy—he’s mine now too."

"My wonderful, polite, awkward, strong little Herald-son. I’m going to buy you clothes. And bake for you."

Brandon tried to say something, but Florence had already launched into a series of plans.

"I need to arrange a formal welcome banquet for you. Maybe something intimate first—just close family and trusted vassals."

"Then a grand ball for the rest of the nobility. Oh! We’ll commission a custom uniform for you. One that blends Bleaufort tradition with your station as Herald—Eira, he’d look gorgeous in a long navy coat, wouldn’t he?"

Eira again tried to shake Florence off Brandon "He is not your damn doll."

Brandon gave a strangled laugh and finally leaned back into the couch, both amused and overwhelmed.

Somehow, in less than an hour, he’d gone from preparing for a hostile meeting... to being smothered by a noblewoman who was now determined to mother him.

And as strange as it was... he didn’t hate it.