Chapter 153: Aunt Vivienne's Surprise
The applause had only just begun to fade when Eva stepped down from the stage, still floating slightly from the lingering echo of her final note. The chandeliers above were dimmed just so, casting a golden glow over the marble floor of the performance hall. Everything shimmered — the air, the polished piano lid, the sparkling reflections from Briony's violin — and yet none of it seemed quite real.
Except the music. That had been real. That had been hers.
A cluster of faculty and patrons had already begun to move toward her, expressions full of praise, curiosity, mild awe — but Vivienne swept in first, heels tapping smartly against the stone, her silk scarf trailing behind her like a comet.
"You were luminous," Vivienne said, breathless, switching between recording and adjusting the camera angle on her phone. "Your maman will lose her mind. She'll cry. She'll call me in the middle of the night to sob in three languages."
Eva gave her a small, knowing smile. "She always does."
Vivienne laughed, lowering the phone and smoothing Eva's sleeve. "You didn't see yourself, chérie. There was a moment — right in the middle of the crescendo — you looked like you were about to fly."
Eva didn't respond. Something in her posture had shifted. Not tense, exactly. More… alert.
Vivienne noticed. Her grin grew sly.
"Oh," she said. "You've caught on, haven't you?"
"Caught on to what?" Eva asked, eyes narrowing suspiciously.
Vivienne checked the recording again, as if to distract. "The lighting here really is flattering, isn't it? I need them to install these chandeliers at home."
Eva crossed her arms. "You're hiding something."
Vivienne did not deny it. Instead, she held up one finger and said, "Wait here. Don't move. No running, no scaling pianos, no composing emotional symphonies about betrayal."
"Aunt Vivienne—"
But her aunt had already disappeared behind a column, camera still rolling, giggling softly.
Briony appeared at Eva's side, brushing nonexistent dust from her blazer. "She's planning something."
"I know."
"Should we worry?"
Eva tilted her head, pale gray eyes narrowed in calculation. "A little."
A small flurry of movement caught Eva's eye. A figure emerging from the far corridor. A flicker of auburn. A flash of pale blue wool.
And then — Seraphina Yue Langford stepped into the light.
She wore a travel coat, expensive and just slightly wrinkled from the journey, her scarf tied in a messy knot, curls wind - tossed and slightly damp from an earlier drizzle. She looked tired. Rumpled. Stunning.
Eva froze. Her breath hitched. For half a second, the world tilted.
And then she ran.
Shoes clicking against marble, dress swishing, Eva launched herself across the floor and straight into Seraphina's waiting arms.
"You're here," Eva breathed, burying her face in Seraphina's shoulder.
Seraphina's hands wrapped around her, firm and warm. "Of course I am."
"I didn't think you'd come."
"I know." Seraphina pulled back just enough to look at her, cupping Eva's cheeks. "It was meant to be a surprise. Your Aunt Vivienne's idea."
Eva blinked, whirling around. "Aunt Vivienne!"
From behind a nearby pillar, Vivienne popped out, holding her phone aloft triumphantly. "I told you it'd be worth it. This angle is golden."
"You bribed her?" Eva demanded, half - amused, half - indignant.
Vivienne didn't miss a beat. "Technically, I bribed her parents."
Seraphina laughed. "She showed up at our estate with tickets, a handwritten letter, and a box of Ladurée macarons in a velvet ribbon. Said I had no choice."
"I added opera seats in P••••," Vivienne added. "You're welcome."
Eva turned back to Seraphina, still a little breathless. "You flew just to see me?"
"Yes," Seraphina said simply. "And because you were going to pout about it for a decade if I didn't."
"I was not."
"Mm - hmm."
They stood there a moment longer, arms still loosely wrapped around each other. The buzz of the room returned slowly, like the background hum of a city after the rain. A few professors glanced over, murmuring softly to each other, and someone — a journalist, perhaps — raised their phone to snap a discreet photo.
Seraphina's arm tightened subtly around Eva's waist.
Mine, the gesture said. No words required.
Vivienne caught it from the corner of her eye and arched an eyebrow, amused. "Protective, are we?"
Seraphina didn't look away from Eva. "Shouldn't I be?"
Eva leaned into her with an exaggerated sigh. "She's always like this. Possessive."
"You belong to me," Seraphina replied, utterly deadpan.
Briony, watching with folded arms and an amused expression, murmured, "I feel like I've wandered into a small civil marriage."
"You have," Eva said.
"She proposed at four," Seraphina added. "I accepted at six."
Vivienne laughed so hard she nearly dropped her phone. "I'm putting that in the caption."
They made their way to a nearby seating alcove near the conservatory, a quieter corner of the hall still twinkling with candlelight and ivy - wrapped trellises. Eva clung to Seraphina's arm, refusing to let go, even when they sat.
"Tell me everything," Eva demanded, eyes bright. "How did you get here? What was the trip like? Did you eat anything on the plane? Were your parents furious? How did you convince them?"
Seraphina grinned. "One question at a time, Eva."
"I can't. You've been missing for six eternities."
"It was two days."
Eva gave her a dramatic look. "That's longer than most marriages."
Briony, sipping a flute of sparkling water, nearly snorted.
"Well," Seraphina began, "first your aunt Vivienne kidnapped me—"
"I invited you."
"— with what I can only describe as illegal levels of charm and pastry. Then she told my parents it was an educational experience."
Eva gasped. "You lied?"
"I negotiated," Vivienne said smugly.
Seraphina nodded solemnly. "And once she promised them there would be no grand hotels, no opera tours, and absolutely no fine dining, they agreed."
Eva frowned. "But you are going to the opera."
"Obviously," Seraphina said.
Eva beamed, proud. "You're such a Langford."
"And you," Seraphina murmured, brushing a strand of hair from Eva's forehead, "are exactly as I imagined."
Vivienne, now seated nearby and still filming casually on her phone, zoomed in.
"Say it again," she whispered under her breath, grinning. "So I can send your maman a recording of her daughter being the most beloved child in F•••••."
Eva ignored her, still curled into Seraphina's side. She'd gone quiet again, but not in the way that worried anyone. Her eyes were half - lidded, content. Seraphina had taken her hand and was tracing small, absent circles on her knuckles.
Briony watched the two of them and, as always, didn't quite know what to make of it.
"She really didn't say a word in E•••••• for two weeks," she said to Seraphina. "Only F•••••. Or M•••••••."
"She's like that," Seraphina said with a fond smile. "Goes quiet when she's feeling too much."
"Too much what?"
"Love. Distance. Beauty. It happens."
Vivienne was clearly recording this as well, but neither of them seemed to mind.
Eva stirred suddenly. "Are you staying the night?"
"Yes."
"With me?"
"I have a room down the hall," Seraphina said. "But I'll stay as long as you need."
Eva's response was immediate: "Forever."
Seraphina laughed. "We'll start with tonight."
The evening wore on around them. Guests moved to the conservatory for champagne and late desserts. Music began to play again, soft and lilting — a quartet in the corner, their instruments glowing amber beneath fairy lights. But for Eva, everything outside the circle of Seraphina's arms was a distant blur.
Eventually, she sat up straighter and reached for her sketchbook, flipping to a new page. Without a word, she began sketching — not the room, not the chandelier, not the quartet — but Seraphina.
It wasn't exact. It was stylized, ethereal. Seraphina as seen through Eva's eyes. Lines like wind. Hair like smoke. A heartbeat visible in the shading beneath her collarbone.
When she was done, she signed it in the corner: Pour celle qui me voit.
For the one who sees me.
She passed it to Seraphina without ceremony.
Seraphina stared at it for a long moment, then folded it carefully and slipped it into her coat pocket. "I'm keeping this."
Eva looked smug. "You're keeping me."
"Same thing."
Vivienne, full - on misty - eyed now, zoomed in again and whispered, "Her maman is going to scream."
"Don't send that," Eva said without looking.
"Too late," Vivienne replied.
Briony rolled her eyes. "You're a menace."
"A documented menace," Vivienne said proudly, checking her uploads.
Eventually, as the night deepened and the stars blinked faintly through the tall conservatory windows, Seraphina rose from her seat and extended a hand.
"Walk with me?" she asked.
Eva took it without hesitation, her small fingers slipping perfectly into hers.
As they disappeared through the ivy - covered archway into the cool night air, Briony leaned back in her chair, watching them go.
"She really is hers, isn't she?" she murmured.
Vivienne, already editing her next video, didn't look up. "She always was."