Chapter 78: The Promise in the Stars
The Ainsley estate glowed with afternoon light, its gilded corridors and marble floors catching the warmth of the sun. Eva sat in the sunroom, her legs tucked under her like a small empress presiding over her dominion, surrounded by scattered sheets of vellum and colored pencils. Her sketchbook lay open in front of her, bursting with pages upon pages of suns and moons, tiny stars, twisted rings, and annotated gemstone placements in her slanted but elegant script.
She looked serious—serious in the way only a five-year-old genius could. Her mouth was slightly pursed. Her brows furrowed as she studied her own work with the concentration of a seasoned designer about to unveil a royal commission.
Vivienne, curious about the silence, peeked in and smiled. "Darling, are you designing an observatory this time?"
"No," Eva said, without looking up. "It's a jewelry set. For Ina."
Vivienne raised an eyebrow and walked in slowly, heels softly clicking against the tile. "A jewelry set?"
"I was gonna give it to her when we grow up," Eva added, flipping to another page. "But I decided to give them to her for her birthday." She glanced up, eyes wide with resolve. "I want her to have something no one else has. Because no one is like Ina. She's the only Ina in the world. My moon. My sun. My star. My galaxy. My everything."
Vivienne knelt beside her, voice warm. "Show me."
Eva began to explain, tapping each sketch like a scholar lecturing her thesis.
The Ring:
"It's got a sun and a moon that face each other, not touching yet, but almost—just like me and Ina. In the middle, where their rays meet, is a Changbai peridot. It's green and glowy like something magical that fell from the sky. Like Ina's favorite color when she's pretending she doesn't have a favorite. The band is gold and thin, twisted like a ribbon, and it has tiny stars etched along the sides. I added those because when I kiss her cheeks and whisper poems, I always say she's made of stars."
At the center of the twisted band, Eva had designed a delicate carved pink diamond, nestled just beneath the peridot—"because pink is the color of soft things, like my heart when she smiles."
The Earrings:
"One is a sun. The other is a moon. I asked Aunt Vivi if people could wear mismatched ones, and she said of course, especially when they mean something." The left earring was a blazing gold sun, its rays rimmed with rubies and a peridot in the center. The right was a crescent moon, made of white gold with a tiny embedded black diamond and a peridot cradled like a sleeping light.
"I want her to wear them and feel balanced. Like day and night both love her."
The Necklace:
"This one is my favorite," Eva whispered, her eyes wide. "It's a gold circle pendant with a whole sky inside—tiny stars made of silver dots, all wrapped around a single green gem. It's supposed to look like a night sky with a secret sunrise hiding in it. The ring I made can fit in the middle someday, when she outgrows it."
The pendant was ingeniously crafted so the ring could be slid into its center, turning the necklace into a keepsake. Embedded diamonds scattered across the sky like constellations, each one placed intentionally.
The Bracelet:
"This one took me four tries," Eva admitted, sighing with pride. "It has a sun and a moon in the middle, holding hands—not real hands, swirly hands like the patterns Ina draws when she's bored." Between the celestial figures sat a peridot. The gold chain was crafted from tiny, interlocked stars, and in the center of each star, alternating with the pattern, were black diamonds.
"I read black diamonds are the oldest stones. I want it to grow with her. And maybe someday, we can add little gems together, for things she loves or for adventures we go on."
Vivienne, now sitting beside her, was silent for a long moment.
"These are extraordinary," she finally said, voice soft with awe. "Eva… do you want to make a real set? Not just the sketches?"
Eva blinked. "You mean with real gold and diamonds?"
"You're an Ainsley. You're a Liore. You're Maman's daughter. If it's for Seraphina, we'll spare no expense."
Eva's eyes sparkled. "Then yes. Please. Please. Please."
*****
The press cameras were waiting when Monsieur Albin stepped off the private jet at O•••. Suited in deep charcoal, a cream scarf knotted under his chin, and his tiny half-moon glasses perched with precision, he barely acknowledged the sea of flashing bulbs.
"Monsieur Albin! What brings you to N•••••?"
"Have you been commissioned by royalty again?"
He adjusted his cuffs, cool as moonlight. "I was called," he said simply. "And I answered."
That was all.
When he arrived at the Ainsley estate, Vivienne greeted him at the threshold with an elegant smile.
"It's been a long time since I've called you."
Albin nodded, amused. "Yes. Since you got married. Funny—I don't see the ring."
Vivienne's lips twitched. She lifted a delicate gold chain from beneath her blouse, revealing a ring nestled there like a secret. "I wear it where it belongs."
"Hm." He raised an eyebrow. "So does your wife, I presume?"
Eva had been hovering nearby and now scurried up, eyes wide. "Mére—aunt Vivi, why aren't you wearing such an exquisite ring? They're beautiful! They look almost identical to the one Maman wears!"
Vivienne only smiled and ruffled her curls. "Some rings belong on fingers. Some close to the heart."
Over the next week, Vivienne helped Eva turn her sketches into polished 3D renderings. She and Albin conferred over materials, gem sources, and the tiniest design flourishes. Eva was treated not as a child, but as an artist. Albin never condescended.
The moment he saw her final designs, he stilled.
"These…" he said slowly, "are not made by a child."
"They were," Vivienne said. "She's a prodigy."
Albin peered at Eva. "Mademoiselle, I must ask. May I purchase the rights to this set? Or perhaps make more of them for limited collectors?"
Eva blinked. Her cheeks flushed red. She puffed her cheeks indignantly.
"No," she said. "These are for Seraphina. Just Seraphina. One of a kind."
"Ah," Albin said, bowing deeply. "Then I shall craft them with that in mind."
Vivienne stifled a laugh as the jeweler exited the room. "You told him off quite properly."
Eva huffed, arms crossed. "Ina isn't for sale."
*****
While the masterwork was underway, Eva sat at her writing desk one morning, hunched over a piece of thick parchment. Her handwriting was meticulous, her Greek even more so. The poem came from somewhere in her soul—a small song wrapped in myth and longing.
Ὁ Ὅρκος τῶν ἄστρων
The Oath of the Stars
Ἥλιος καὶ Σελήνη, πρόσωπα πλησίον,
φῶς καὶ σκιὰ, ὅμως ἕν·
ἐν μέσῳ πέπλος σμαραγδίνου θησαυροῦ,
ἀστέρες ὑφαίνουν τὴν ὑπόσχεσιν.
Σὺ εἶς μου κόσμος, φωνὴ καὶ ἡσυχία,
γέλως ἐκείνη ἥτις τοὺς φόβους καταλύει.
Σὲ φιλῶ μὲ ποίησιν καὶ δάκρυον,
καὶ ὁμνύω—σὲ οὐκ ἐάσω μόνην.
"Sun and Moon, faces near,
Light and shadow, yet one.
Between them a veil of emerald treasure,
Stars weaving the promise.
You are my world, my voice and my quiet,
The laughter that dissolves fear.
I kiss you with poetry and tears,
And I vow—you shall never be alone."
The final set arrived one morning in deep violet velvet boxes lined in cream satin. Evelyn and Vivienne stood beside Eva as she opened them, piece by piece.
The gold shone like sunlight. The peridots pulsed with green fire. Diamonds sparkled like winter frost, and every tiny detail—the etching, the proportions, the gemstones—was perfect.
"My gods," Vivienne murmured. "It's art."
Evelyn covered her mouth. "She's five."
Eva didn't hear them. She was too busy taping her poem to the inside lid of the necklace box with a gold-inked seal.
She was smiling—beaming—but her hands trembled slightly.
"Maman… what if she doesn't like it?" she asked suddenly, breath catching. "What if she thinks it's… too much? What if it's not perfect? What if I made her the wrong kind of stars?!"
"She'll cry," Evelyn said truthfully, stroking her daughter's curls. "And she'll probably never take them off."
"She'll know," Vivienne added with a smile, "exactly how much you love her."
*****
Eva remembered the first time she saw Seraphina cry.
She was two. Ina was seven. A bee had stung her wrist in the garden. Everyone else panicked, but Seraphina just sat there, blinking quietly as her hand swelled. It wasn't the sting that made Eva remember—it was how Seraphina apologized for crying. How she tried not to make anyone worry. How even then, she was used to being alone.
From that day, Eva had made a vow in her heart.
I will love her more than anyone. So she'll never be lonely again.
And she had kept that promise every day since.
From the kisses to the poems to the way she always found Ina's lap first before she'd sit anywhere else. From the tiny glances, to how she always saved the last bite of anything for her. Every scribbled drawing, every stargazing night on the rooftop, every made-up song—was a thread in a tapestry Eva wove just for her.
This jewelry, Eva thought, was just the beginning.
And on a quiet afternoon one week before Seraphina's birthday, Eva climbed into Vivienne's lap and whispered, "Can you help me pick the dress I'll wear when I give it to her?"
Vivienne raised a brow. "Planning something romantic, are we?"
Eva's cheeks flushed again. "It's not romantic. It's Ina. It's us."
"Mm-hmm," Vivienne teased, lifting her brows as she sifted through Eva's closet. "So you need a dress that says this is the girl I made the stars for, but also, I am innocent and angelic and cannot possibly be held responsible for proposing with jewelry."
"Mére!"
Vivienne laughed as she held up two options. "This one with the embroidered moons, or the one with the back bow?"
Eva squinted. "The moons. But I'll need shoes that sparkle. And ribbons. A lot of ribbons."
Vivienne kissed her forehead. "Of course."
Some things, even at five, were beyond explanation.
Eva didn't just love Seraphina.
She had chosen her—completely.
And the stars, and the sun, and the moon, and all the peridot fire in the world couldn't hold a candle to what her heart had already decided.