Chapter 103: The Quiet After the Storm
The morning sun filtered softly through the gauzy curtains of the Langford estate, casting gentle patterns on the polished wooden floors. The air was filled with the comforting aroma of freshly brewed tea and the faint scent of blooming jasmine from the garden.
Eva sat cross - legged on the living room rug, her violin resting beside her. She was humming a tune, her fingers tracing invisible patterns in the air, lost in thought.
Seraphina entered the room, a letter in hand. Her brow was furrowed, lips pressed into a thin line.
"Eva," she said, holding up the envelope. "This came for you."
Eva looked up, curiosity piqued. She reached out, but Seraphina pulled it back.
"Wait," Seraphina muttered, tearing open the envelope. She scanned the contents, her eyes narrowing with each word. "It's from Adrian Wycliffe. An invitation to his sister's birthday party."
She exhaled sharply and read aloud:
Evangeline Claire Ainsley,
I trust you will grace us with your presence at my sister's gathering.
It would be a shame for you to miss an event of such caliber — though I do understand how overwhelming refinement can be for some.
Do try to behave appropriately this time; your previous conduct was less than exemplary.
I expect you to follow instructions precisely, as any well - trained companion should.
It's rather sweet how bright you are, even if not quite intelligent.
Yours in anticipation,
Adrian Wycliffe.
Seraphina's hands trembled slightly as she crumpled the letter, her eyes burning.
"This is garbage," she declared, marching to the fireplace and tossing it in. Flames caught the paper instantly. "I can't believe he thinks he's handsome and can compare to me."
She turned toward Eva, vulnerability flashing through her composure. "What do you think, Eva? Am I not beautiful enough for you to pick?"
Eva stood without hesitation, walked over, and wrapped her arms around Seraphina's waist. She looked up with unwavering eyes.
"No," she said firmly. "You're the most beautiful in the galaxy. Even gods and goddesses can't compare to you."
Seraphina's cheeks flushed, a reluctant smile softening her face.
Eva reached up and pressed a kiss to her cheek. Then, looking into her eyes, she whispered, "I mean it, Ina."
She kissed her lips softly. "I love you. I will marry you someday."
Seraphina laughed and pulled her close, resting her chin on Eva's head. "You're always so dramatic."
Eva grinned. "Only for you."
The kitchen was alive with the smell of warm croissants and honey - buttered toast. Mère — as Eva insisted on calling Vivienne — flitted about with a mischievous gleam in her eye, spooning marmalade onto a porcelain plate.
"Eva, darling," Mère teased, looking over her shoulder, "if you keep staring at Seraphina like that, you'll turn her into jam."
Eva gasped, offended on principle, and flung herself into Seraphina's lap at the breakfast table.
"She's already the sweetest jam," Eva declared, snuggling into her. "And the most beautiful."
Seraphina groaned but couldn't help the smile tugging at her lips as she tried to butter her toast.
Maman Evelyn entered just then, sharp-eyed as ever, with a clipboard in hand.
"Eva, sit properly," she said, her tone stern but not unkind. "Breakfast isn't a theater for your love confessions."
Eva slid off Seraphina's lap and into her own seat with exaggerated grace.
"Yes, Maman," she said, folding her hands as if awaiting trial. Then she whispered to Seraphina behind her cup, "But it is a theater for your face."
Seraphina nearly choked on her tea.
*****
At lunch, the family gathered around the sunlit table. The clink of cutlery and the occasional murmur filled the room. Papa was present but distant, his eyes fixed on his phone.
"Papa," Eva ventured cautiously, "will you play chess with me later?"
He looked up briefly, distracted. "I'll try, sweetheart. Work has been hectic."
Eva nodded, forcing a polite smile. "I understand. You're very busy."
She focused on her soup, trying not to let the familiar ache sink in too deep. She didn't blame him — not out loud, not in her heart. He was important. He was working. She repeated it like a hymn.
The afternoon drifted slowly, sweetly. Eva and Seraphina lounged in the garden, the sun casting dappled shadows through the trees and making halos on their hair. Eva leaned against Seraphina's side, her head on her shoulder.
"Ina," she murmured, "I wrote something for you."
She opened her notebook and read softly:
Μόνο η Ίνα κινεί τον ουρανό,
Η αγάπη της λάμπει σαν τον ήλιο.
Καμία θεά δεν μπορεί να συγκριθεί,
Η Ίνα μου, η καρδιά μου, η ζωή μου.
Η φωνή της γλυκιά σαν τραγούδι ανέμου,
Το γέλιο της είναι το φως του πρωινού.
Στην αγκαλιά της όλα βρίσκουν ειρήνη,
Και κάθε σκιά χάνεται σιωπηλά.
Αν είμαι αστέρι, εκείνη είναι ουρανός,
Αν είμαι λέξη, εκείνη είναι ποίημα.
Τίποτα δεν έχω πιο αληθινό,
Από το να είμαι της Ίνας για πάντα.
Seraphina's eyes glistened. "It's beautiful."
Eva beamed, cradling the notebook like a holy thing.
Only Ina moves the sky,
Her love shines like the sun.
No goddess can compare,
My Ina, my heart, my life.
Her voice is sweet like a wind-song,
Her laughter is the morning light.
In her arms, all things find peace,
And every shadow disappears silently.
If I'm a star, she is the sky,
If I'm a word, she is the poem.
I have nothing more true
Than to be Ina's forever.
As the evening crept in and shadows lengthened across the windows, Eva picked up her violin from the sofa. She tuned it with care, then began to play — a melody slow and yearning, like a secret sung only to twilight.
Her voice joined the strings in a low hum, then in song:
Solum Ina caelum movet,
Amor eius lucet sicut sol.
Nulla dea comparari potest,
Ina mea, cor meum, vita mea.
Vox eius dulcis sicut aurora,
Risus eius pax in corde.
In amplexu eius omnia quiescunt,
Et tenebrae cadunt sine metu.
Si sum stella, illa est firmamentum,
Si sum verbum, illa est carmen.
Mea veritas est simplex et clara—
Ad vitam, ad mortem, tua sum.
Seraphina sat curled up on the couch, utterly still, her eyes fixed on Eva like the song itself was drawing breath from her lungs.
"Your voice," she whispered, "is enchanting."
Eva lowered the violin and gave her a slow, bashful smile. "It's for you."
Only Ina moves the sky,
Her love shines like the sun.
No goddess can compare,
My Ina, my heart, my life.
Her voice is sweet like dawn,
Her laughter is peace in the heart.
In her embrace, all things rest,
And the darkness falls without fear.
If I am a star, she is the sky,
If I am a word, she is the song.
My truth is simple and clear—
To life, to death, I am yours.
The fire had dwindled to a gentle glow. The two of them sat together on the velvet couch, wrapped in a shared blanket. Outside, the wind rustled the leaves in hushes. Inside, time softened.
Seraphina brushed a curl from Eva's forehead and looked into her eyes.
"Thank you," she said softly, "for today."
Eva snuggled closer, burying her face against Seraphina's shoulder.
"Always, Ina."