Chapter 161: When the Moonbeam Says Goodbye
The morning of departure arrived not like a storm, but a gentle undoing — the kind that tugged softly at thread and heart alike. The corridors of Maison de Corcelle were quieter than usual, even though nothing had technically changed. Breakfast was still warm in the dining room. Freshly cut lilies still adorned the marble sideboard. But there was a hush — a reverence in the air, like the house itself knew Evangeline Claire "Eva" Ainsley " Maxwell — Lioré" was about to leave.
Vivienne was downstairs early, instructing the staff, tapping something furiously into her phone between sips of bitter coffee. Briony, still wrapped in a cashmere shawl, lingered by the piano, pretending not to listen for footsteps from above.
Seraphina waited in the hallway, her suitcase already packed, her coat draped over her arm, but her eyes trained toward the staircase. Only one person mattered now.
And upstairs, behind a door gilded with hand - painted butterflies, Eva stood facing the mirror.
Evelyn was brushing out her daughter's hair for the last time — for now. Neither of them said much. They didn't have to. The strokes of the brush were steady, patient. Eva's small hands clutched the velvet ribbon Seraphina had tied into her braid just yesterday. Her shoulders were straight, her eyes unusually quiet.
"You've grown even more," Evelyn murmured, letting her fingers drift down the back of Eva's neck.
"I didn't mean to," Eva replied. "I just… did."
Evelyn smiled softly and set the brush aside. "That's how it works."
"I don't like it."
"I know."
A pause.
Eva turned around, blinking up at her maman. Her voice was barely more than breath when she asked, "Can I say something before we go?"
"Of course, love."
The girl stepped forward, so close that Evelyn instinctively knelt to meet her. Eva leaned in, small arms circling her maman's neck, and whispered something in F•••• — a language she barely used, but always knew how to wield when it mattered. Her voice trembled, but the words were deliberate:
تو مهربانتر از سپیدهدمی، در تاریکی من سوختی،
در سایهات یاد گرفتم که روشن باشم، حتی وقتی دلتنگی بیصدا فریاد میزند.
قلبم را به تو میسپارم، هر جا که باشی،
دوستت دارم، مامن من، برای عشق و پناهت تا همیشه سپاسگزارم.
She pulled back only once it was said. Evelyn's eyes were already wet.
"Sweet girl," she whispered, cupping Eva's face. "Do you want me to tell you what it means?"
Eva shook her head. "You already know."
And she did.
You are kinder than the break of dawn; you burned within my darkness.
In your shadow, I learned how to shine — even when loneliness screams in silence.
I entrust you with my heart, wherever you may be.
I love you — my haven — and I will always be grateful for your love and your shelter.
Evelyn kissed her once, gently, then again, and again — forehead, cheeks, the bridge of her nose, until Eva laughed through the tears.
"I'll miss you, Maman," Eva said finally. "I'll miss you so much I think I'll burst."
"You'll write me."
"I'll call and video call."
"And when you sing, I'll feel it."
Eva's lip wobbled. "I love you."
"More than the sun."
"And the moon."
"And everything else."
Then Eva, unable to help herself, pressed one final kiss to Evelyn's lips — soft, childlike, fiercely loving. She clung to her for a moment longer, arms tight around her neck. Evelyn held her with a mother's understanding: not for too long, but just long enough to imprint the warmth into memory.
Downstairs, Seraphina waited like gravity. The jet was ready — sleek, black, and waiting on the private runway. Vivienne was already checking her phone for the crew's confirmation while Briony sipped espresso from a porcelain cup, murmuring something dry about flight duration. The luggage had already been sent ahead by staff. Everything, as always, had been perfectly arranged by Evelyn.
Eva descended slowly, still rubbing at her eyes — but not hiding it. She didn't need to. The house knew what this moment was. Even the marble floors felt quieter under her footsteps.
"Ready?" Seraphina asked, reaching for her hand.
Eva nodded and squeezed it.
Briony gave her a small salute. "The jet awaits, darling."
And then they were off — down the stone steps of Maison de Corcelle, into the black sedan, past the blooming hedges and the stately gates. Eva didn't look back. She didn't need to. Everything she loved was already written in her heart.
The flight back to N••••• was smooth, private, and full of unsaid things.
Vivienne kept to herself, one AirPod in, a script in her lap she never quite focused on. Briony napped under a silk blanket after a while, her long legs curled into the seat like a sleepy panther.
Eva sat pressed beside Seraphina, curled into the same corner of the plush seat she always claimed. She wore one of Seraphina's hoodies, three sizes too big. Her bare feet were tucked beneath her, the soles just brushing Seraphina's thigh.
"You smell like F•••••," Seraphina murmured, brushing back a strand of Eva's hair.
"I'll start smelling like pine needles again soon."
"I like both."
Eva smiled, half - lidded. "You still smell like my bed."
Seraphina tilted her head. "I hope that's a compliment."
"It is. You always smell like safety and soap."
"I try."
The plane landed in O••• under soft gray clouds. The scent of N••••• greeted them like an old friend: damp earth, wind off the fjords, and something evergreen underneath. A black car waited for them at the private terminal.
The ride back was quieter. Less teasing. Seraphina's hand never left Eva's.
It was nearly dusk by the time the car rolled up to the Langford estate.
The gate opened slowly — hesitantly — as if it wasn't quite ready to let her back in.
Seraphina sat up straighter, adjusting her coat.
Eva didn't let go of her hand.
"You're sleeping over tonight," Eva said, matter - of - fact.
Seraphina glanced at her. "Am I?"
"Yes. I'll see you in a few hours. You're sleeping in my bed."
"I see."
"Don't forget to bring an extra nightgown. Or one of your shirts."
Seraphina raised an eyebrow, amused. "You miss wearing my shirts?"
"Obviously."
The car came to a gentle stop.
Eva leaned in, whispering like it was a conspiracy, "You'll bring the black one, right?"
"I'll consider it."
"Yue."
"Yes, moonbeam?"
Eva kissed her on the cheek. "Black one."
Then the door opened, and Seraphina stepped out, elegance embodied. She paused, looked back once — and saw Eva waving from the window, all soft hoodie sleeves and tangled hair.
Then the door shut, and she was gone.
Back at the Ainsley estate, Eva arrived with Vivienne and Briony in a wash of twilight.
The maids greeted them with familiar warmth. The scent of polished wood and clean linen welcomed her home.
Eva said little. She let Vivienne carry her suitcase, let Briony hang back, let the staff chatter. All she wanted now was warmth and quiet.
"Shall I run a bath for you, darling?" Vivienne asked gently.
Eva shook her head. "No. I'll wait for Yue."
"Of course."
Upstairs, in the moonbeam - blue room with its silver canopy bed and the softest pillows in the northern hemisphere, Eva climbed under the covers without undressing.
She didn't sleep. She simply waited.
Seraphina would come. She always did.
And when she did, Eva would be ready — shirtless if necessary — wearing the black hoodie and a look that said: You belong here, with me. Don't even think about leaving.
Because even the moonbeam, at seven, knew how to cast gravity.