Chapter 86: Her Only Constant
Eva stood stiffly at the edge of the banquet, her small hands tightly clenching the satin fabric of her skirt. The heels of her polished shoes clicked awkwardly against the marble floor as she shifted from foot to foot, eyes scanning the crowd of towering adults and swirling fabrics. Laughter rose and fell like waves across the vast space, but none of it touched her.
This wasn't her world. Not like home. Not like her quiet library, or her mama's gentle laugh, or Ina's warm lap.
This was her second banquet not hosted by her family — an event grand and glittering, filled with polite strangers and unfamiliar children who eyed her with a mix of curiosity and challenge. She'd been instructed to behave, to smile if someone said hello, and not to reveal how clever she was unless directly asked.
But none of that mattered.
All Eva cared about was finding Seraphina.
She clutched the edge of her tiny purse, gifted by her mére — Aunt Vivienne — a delicate thing with embroidered violets — and tiptoed through the crowd, ignoring the way a boy her age tried to introduce himself with a practiced, over - polished bow. She gave him a blank stare and moved on.
Children tugged at each other's sleeves, playing tag around the edge of the dessert table. Their voices were loud, their gestures careless. One girl in pink lace tried to take Eva's hand.
Eva snatched it back, scowling.
"You're rude," the girl sniffed.
Eva lifted her chin. "You're noisy."
With that, she turned and walked briskly away, the hem of her soft lavender dress swishing about her ankles like waves catching a ship adrift.
She knew Seraphina was here. She had to be. Mama — Maman — had mentioned it in the car, and Eva had sat up straighter at the sound of her name, ignoring the butterflies in her stomach and the stiffness of her new shoes.
Her Seraphina. Her Ina.
She found her in the side corridor of the grand ballroom, beneath a lattice of twinkling chandeliers. Seraphina was speaking with a noblewoman — older, draped in velour — but when Eva spotted her, everything else dissolved.
"Yue!" she called, a sharp burst of breathless joy.
Seraphina's eyes lifted, and a smile softened her features the moment they landed on Eva. "There you are, little one."
Eva ran.
No elegance. No pretense. Just five-year-old feet pattering loudly over polished floors until she collided gently with Seraphina's side, burying her face in the folds of her gown.
Seraphina's arm swept around her like it had been waiting to be there all night. "Excuse me," she said softly to the woman. "It seems I'm required."
The noblewoman arched a brow and laughed. "Claimed already?"
Eva didn't care. She clung.
"You came," she whispered, muffled against Seraphina's side.
"Of course I did," Seraphina replied, brushing Eva's curls from her forehead. "How could I miss your second big night?"
"I hate it."
"You haven't even eaten."
"I hate everyone here but you," Eva said, voice small but fierce.
Seraphina laughed quietly, bending to scoop her up. "Then I suppose I'll just have to stay with you, won't I?"
Eva nodded, arms latching around her neck, cheek pressed to her collarbone. "You always know."
A few adults glanced their way as Seraphina carried her through the corridor and into a quieter drawing room, but none dared say anything. Something about the sight of the dark pale red - eyed young girl with the sleepy child in her arms seemed almost sacred — untouchable.
Once they were alone, Seraphina settled on a velvet sofa with Eva curled neatly in her lap. Eva adjusted herself until she was straddling Seraphina's waist, her head tucked beneath her chin. She kissed Ina's cheek multiple times and sighed dramatically.
"It's much better now… I'm not infuriating anymore."
"You smell like books and sugar," Eva whispered, half to herself.
Seraphina stroked her back. "Did someone upset you?"
Eva pouted. "They're loud. And silly. One girl asked if I wanted to race. A boy said I looked lonely. I'm not lonely when you're here."
Between kisses to Seraphina's cheek, Eva continued her dramatic clinging, wrapping her arms around Ina's neck and pressing her nose into her skin.
Seraphina kissed the top of her head. "I know, my little poet."
Eva blinked up at her, lashes long and glistening. "Will you marry me when I grow up?"
Seraphina smiled gently. "You've already proposed three times this month."
"I mean it," Eva insisted, pressing a kiss to her lips. "You're mine."
"And you're mine," Seraphina replied softly.
Eva hummed, fingers toying with the silk sash around Ina's waist. Her voice came out like falling feathers:
"Capilli undantes, color autumnalis,
more florum in vento cor meum tangis…"
Seraphina's heart stilled for a moment.
"You wrote another poem?" she asked.
Eva nodded, her nose brushing against Ina's collar. "I like your hair. It's like leaves before they fall. And your eyes… They catch everything. Even me."
Seraphina tightened her arms, heart aching in that familiar, warm, terrifying way. "You are a dangerous little poet," she whispered.
"I'm yours," Eva said simply.
Later that night, while the party continued without them, Aunt Vivienne answered her phone to Seraphina's calm voice.
"Hello, Aunt Vivienne. I'm just letting you know that Eva's fallen asleep on my lap. She says she doesn't want to go home. I didn't ask permission — I just thought I should let you know."
On the other end, Vivienne smirked.
"Oh dear," she said dramatically. "Claimed again, are we?"
Seraphina chuckled. "She's warm. And stubborn."
"And in love," Vivienne teased, swirling her wine. "You know she worships you."
"I know," Seraphina said.
Vivienne didn't push. She relayed the message to Evelyn while raising her glass. "She's not coming home," she told her. "She's fallen asleep on Seraphina again, her Yue. That girl is going to steal our daughter."
Evelyn sighed, only half-joking. "She already has."
*****
The next morning, Eva stirred groggily beneath a warm quilt draped over them in one of the estate's guest rooms. She nuzzled into Seraphina's chest, arms tightening.
"…Ina?"
"Yes, little moonbeam?"
Pouting. "Where is my kiss?"
Seraphina kissed her cheeks gently. "Satisfied?"
Eva sighed, melting into her. "Hmm… Yes."
Her voice was hoarse with sleep. "I… I'm sorry I fell asleep again…"
Seraphina smiled. "It's alright."
Eva rubbed her cheek against her shoulder, her lips brushing skin as she murmured, "Thank you."
And then, in a tiny whisper: "I love you."
Seraphina closed her eyes. "I love you too."
"I don't wanna go home," Eva mumbled. "I want your room. My Ina. My Yue."
Seraphina held her a little tighter.
And never said no.
Later that afternoon, back home at the Ainsley estate, Eva sat at her usual place beside her mére — Aunt Vivienne — in the sunroom, sketchbook in her lap. She was drawing with fierce intensity, tongue sticking out slightly, tiny brows furrowed in concentration.
Vivienne peeked over her shoulder. "Another piece?"
"It's a hair ornament," Eva said, eyes fixed. "It needs to be perfect. I want it to match the jewelry I gave Yue. But this one is special. It's… celestial."
Vivienne smiled and knelt beside her. "Tell me."
Eva's little hand traced the outline. "Gold, of course. Not rose this time — pure. With stars dripping down like icicles. A sun in the center — like on her ring — but smaller. Then moons. Crescent, twin ones. I'm adding a secret hinge here — see? So the stars shimmer and move when she walks."
"Clever," Vivienne murmured. "But you mentioned swans?"
Eva nodded eagerly. "Yes! Two swans. One facing left, one right. Their wings curve back like a crown. They're carved in gold, feathers textured. Their eyes will be pink diamonds — like her favorite roses. The sun between them will hold a ruby, and the moon above their wings will be a black diamond. Everything has to shimmer. She's the moon and sun and stars all at once."
Vivienne paused, watching her niece with wonder.
"And this is just a hair ornament?"
Eva nodded. "It's only for her. It'll be pinned in when she wears her hair up. Like a promise."
Vivienne smoothed a hand over her head. "You know, a jeweler in M•••• still wants to buy the designs from your last set. He says they're museum - worthy." "Monsieur Albin really loves your designs."
"I said no," Eva said firmly. "It's only for Ina. Not for the world."
"Of course."
Eva paused, turning to look up at her. "Will you help me make it?"
Vivienne smiled, touched. "Always."
Eva leaned into her side and whispered, "Mére… I want her to know. Even when we're older. Even if she forgets. She's my constant."
Vivienne kissed the top of her head. "And you're hers."
And under the golden afternoon sun, Eva returned to her sketching. Her strokes precise. Her dreams enormous. Her heart utterly full.
Her only constant was Ina.
And everything else could wait.