Chapter 171: The Weight of Goodbye
The day before her departure had a strange glow to it, soft and hushed, as though even the air around the Ainsley estate knew something precious was about to be momentarily lost. The sun filtered through the lace curtains in Seraphina's room, painting delicate patterns across the floor where Eva sat curled up in a patch of light, legs tucked beneath her. She hadn't said much all morning — not out of nerves, but because every time she looked at Seraphina, something inside her ached with the pull of distance before it had even begun.
Seraphina watched her little moonbeam from across the room as she fastened the final ribbon on a carefully wrapped package. There was a quiet tenderness in her fingers, a reverence for the moment she had been preparing for since Eva told her the truth about the trip. She had said nothing when Eva confided in her, only kissed her forehead and promised she would be okay.
Now, with the parcel resting delicately in her lap, Seraphina crossed the room and knelt in front of Eva. "For you," she said softly, presenting it with both hands.
Eva's eyes widened with surprise, then filled with shimmering tears the moment she touched the box. Her small fingers trembled as she untied the silk bow and lifted the lid. Inside were carefully chosen things: a hand - bound journal with pressed violet petals between the pages, a small glass bottle of Seraphina's favorite perfume, a pair of wool mittens in soft grey, and tucked beneath them, a photograph of the two of them from one of their quiet afternoons by the lake, framed in hand - carved cherrywood.
Eva couldn't speak. She clutched the journal to her chest, her breath hitching as her tears fell in quick succession. "Ina…" she whispered, voice cracking. "I love you so much. I love you so, so much. I haven't even left yet, and I already miss you."
Seraphina pulled her into her arms and held her fiercely, her lips pressing against Eva's damp cheek, then her brow, and finally — softly — her lips. The kiss lingered, more than just affection, more than comfort. It was a promise.
"You don't have to tell me the real reasons, little one," Seraphina murmured into her hair. "But please… be careful. If it ever becomes too much, if you can't breathe, you tell your Maman or Aunt Vivienne. You tell me, if you can. No matter where you are."
Eva nodded against her chest, still sobbing softly. "I'll come back, Ina. I'll come back, and you'll be waiting, right?"
"Always," Seraphina said, her voice firm and certain. "Always."
They stayed that way until the sun dipped low behind the hills. That night, Seraphina let Eva curl up beside her in bed, wrapping both arms around the child as though shielding her from the miles that would soon stretch between them. In the quiet dark, Eva whispered again and again between featherlight kisses pressed to Seraphina's lips, her nose, her cheek.
"I love you."
"I love you."
"I love you."
Eventually, her whispers faded into sleep, but Seraphina stayed awake long after, watching the steady rise and fall of Eva's breath and memorizing the weight of her in her arms.
The next morning arrived too quickly.
The house stirred early with the faint sound of preparation, staff moving through halls and suitcases being quietly packed. Eva remained with Seraphina until the last moment possible, her fingers tightly curled around Seraphina's as if letting go might unravel her.
They sat on the window seat, Eva in her traveling dress, her journal from Seraphina already packed safely in her bag.
"You'll call, text, video call, and write to me?" Seraphina asked, brushing a stray curl from Eva's temple.
"Every day," Eva whispered. "Even if I don't send it. I'll call, text, video call, and write like I'm talking to you."
A soft chime rang from the far corridor. One of the staff had come to let Eva know a video call was waiting. Maman and Aunt Vivienne.
Eva hesitated, then turned toward Seraphina. "Stay close?"
"I'm right here."
Together, they walked to the sitting room where the tablet had already been propped up on a stand. Vivienne's face appeared first, then Evelyn's, both smiling with curious warmth.
"Bonjour, darling!" Evelyn cooed. "You're all packed, I hope?"
"Yes, Maman," Eva said sweetly, slipping into her usual grace like a practiced step in a dance.
"We heard your Papa arranged this trip quite suddenly," Vivienne added, her tone sharp but not unkind. "Where exactly are you going?"
Eva looked down briefly, then back at the screen, her voice carefully even. "There's a party. In A••••••••. It's just Papa and me. He wants us to bond, that's all. Nothing big."
Evelyn raised her brows but smiled nonetheless. "How lovely. Do try not to let him work you too hard, darling."
"I won't," Eva replied with her best smile, though it didn't quite reach her eyes.
Seraphina sat just offscreen, watching Eva with a quiet ache in her heart. She could see the practiced poise in the girl's posture, the carefully constructed lie in her voice. But she also saw the flicker of strain in Eva's gaze, the way her fingers curled slightly around the hem of her dress, as though tethering herself to the truth she wasn't allowed to share.
Vivienne was still speaking, but Seraphina only half - listened. She was watching Eva — watching her perform — and memorizing every line, every movement, every subtle quiver in her smile.
When the call ended, Eva exhaled shakily and looked back at Seraphina. "Did I do well?"
"You did perfectly," Seraphina said, kneeling before her once more. "But don't forget, you don't have to carry it all alone. Not even for him."
"I know," Eva murmured. "But I want him to be proud. Even if it hurts."
Seraphina placed a hand over her heart. "He's not the only one who matters."
"I know that too," Eva whispered, before throwing her arms around her.
There would be a car waiting soon.
Its engine would hum like a ticking clock, an unspoken countdown to everything that would change. The world outside was already shifting — dawn just beginning to break, throwing pale light across the frost - laced windows. Somewhere beyond the glass, men moved with quiet efficiency. Bags were packed. Weapons checked. Orders given.
Reginald hadn't returned yet. But his instructions had been clear.
The moment he arrived, they would leave. No ceremony. No time for lingering.
The true journey would begin.
But until then — these last precious minutes belonged only to them.
Seraphina held Eva in a silence so complete, it felt like time had curled in on itself. They stood near the tall windows of the estate's east wing, the velvet curtains drawn just enough to let the first slivers of morning light reach them. The room was cold, but Eva didn't feel it. Not with Seraphina wrapped around her like a second skin.
One arm looped around Eva's waist, the other cradled the back of her head. Their foreheads touched. Neither spoke.
There was no need.
Eva's heart beat slow and steady beneath her ribs, thudding in time with Seraphina's. Her breath was soft against Seraphina's collarbone, as if she was afraid to exhale too loudly and break the moment. The silk of her coat was cool against Seraphina's palms, but the girl beneath it was warm — tethered, alive, hers.
Seraphina closed her eyes. She wasn't good at goodbyes. Not even temporary ones. She'd been taught to avoid attachments, to prepare for the worst. But Eva had dismantled every defense she'd ever built — softly, patiently, and without apology.
So Seraphina stood there and held her, imprinting this goodbye into her bones.
Eva reached up, her small hand smoothing along the curve of Seraphina's jaw. Her fingers trembled, just a little. But her voice was steady when she finally spoke.
"Will you wait for me?"
The question was so simple. So achingly human.
Seraphina opened her eyes. "Always."
Eva gave the barest nod, her eyes shining but dry. She didn't cry — not because she wasn't scared, but because she didn't want Seraphina to carry the weight of her tears on top of everything else.
"I'll come back," Eva whispered.
Seraphina leaned in and pressed her lips gently to her temple. "I know."
Outside, a car door slammed. The first warning.
Eva flinched.
Seraphina's grip tightened. "You don't have to be fearless, you know. Just brave enough."
"I'm not scared," Eva said. Then softened. "Okay, maybe a little."
"You'll do fine."
"Promise?"
Seraphina leaned back just enough to look at her, brushing a lock of chestnut brown hair from her cheek. "You're Eva. You broke into my life like a storm. And somehow… you stayed. That kind of magic doesn't just vanish."
Another noise outside — the low rumble of the engine turning over.
Time was running out.
Eva took one last breath and buried her face into Seraphina's shoulder. She inhaled her scent — like cedar and cool air — and let it brand itself into memory.
Whatever the wilderness demanded of her — whatever lay ahead in the unknown — she would return to this. To her.
Always.
She stepped back reluctantly, fingers sliding away like a goodbye too long delayed. Seraphina didn't chase her, but her eyes didn't leave her either. Not until the door clicked shut behind her.
And even then, Seraphina stood there, heart aching, knowing she'd just let her entire world walk out the door.
But she would come back.
She had to.