Chapter 176: Whispers Beneath the Moonlight
Eva descended the marble steps slowly, the fabric of her gown catching the soft uplighting with every step. She wore a sleek, tailored dress in a rare shade of silvery - yellow — not flashy, but luminous, like moonlight filtered through antique glass. It echoed Artemis's eyes almost too perfectly, as if chosen to reflect something mythic, untouchable. The color made her pale grey eyes look sharper, cooler, more calculating beneath the delicate sweep of her lashes.
Her chestnut - darker brown curly long hair had been styled into soft waves that brushed her shoulders, the natural curl still evident beneath the polish. At certain angles, the strands caught a cool blue hue, subtle but strange — a trick of genetics or mood lighting, even she didn't know anymore. Nestled just above her ear was the silver comb Seraphina had given her, and behind one wrist, the faintest trace of Seraphina's gifted perfume still clung to her skin: floral, wild, and deeply personal.
She looked poised — not like a child playing dress - up, but like someone being studied. The ballroom around her shimmered with clean lines and mirrored panels, LED spotlights casting a minimalist glow over the elite of the modern world. Government figures, high-profile diplomats, private - sector strategists, and heirs to old dynasties moved like chess pieces across polished floors, exchanging sharp pleasantries and watching everyone. Including her.
Whispers trailed in her wake — Ainsley, yes, but no lineage. A girl with a name but no old family behind it. Some dismissed her. Others were curious. A few looked a little afraid.
Eva didn't flinch.
Reginald stood beside her with an inscrutable expression. He had paraded her through introductions like a valuable artifact: smiling coldly, letting her speak only when prompted, her role to be charming, polite, and observant.
As the last introduction tapered off, Reginald leaned down, his lips close to her ear, his voice like steel wrapped in velvet.
"Make sure you behave when I'm not around," he said without turning his face. "Mingle with those who matter. Observe their weaknesses, their needs. You don't need them. They need you. Never forget that."
Eva nodded slowly. "Yes, Papa."
And with that, he left her side to join a circle of aristocrats — military men in tailored uniforms, women with hair like sculpted silver and dresses that whispered power with every fold.
Eva sipped water from a crystal flute and wandered through the room. She exchanged pleasantries with a few lesser nobles and dignitaries — many of whom seemed more interested in confirming her status than truly speaking to her. When asked, she gave the name she'd been instructed to use: "Evangeline Claire Maxwell — Lioré." Some recognized the Lioré surname with a flicker of startled intrigue, but she kept it vague, as Reginald had ordered. Only select people knew the truth, and even fewer had been granted permission to speak of it.
Eventually, the music and chatter became too much. Her cheeks ached from smiling. Her posture remained stiff from hours of perfection. Her heart ached, but she kept it buried behind layers of poise.
She slipped away down one of the long, marbled hallways, silent on soft shoes. Past the gilded mirrors and through a carved oak door, she found a small balcony wrapped in ivy and washed in moonlight. The sea murmured in the distance beyond the cliffs. Eva shut the door behind her gently, breathing in the cool air like freedom.
From her clutch bag, she took her private phone — one her papa hadn't inspected — and called the only person who could make this night feel real.
The screen lit up. Seraphina's face appeared after just one ring.
"Ina," Eva whispered, her voice soft as the screen lit up. The second Seraphina's face appeared, Eva's smile bloomed like sunlight. "Do I look alright?"
Seraphina blinked slowly, her dark, pale - red eyes locking onto the screen. "You look…" Her breath caught for just a second. "Breathtaking, little moonbeam. As always."
Eva blushed instantly. "You always say that. What if I looked like a sleepy gremlin in a fancy dress?"
"I'd still fall for you," Seraphina said without missing a beat, smirking just a little. "But you don't. You look like you stepped out of a dream."
Eva lifted the camera and tilted it down to show her floor - length silvery - yellow gown, its soft embroidery catching the light behind her. "I picked this color," she murmured. "Artemis eyes. Remember?"
Seraphina's smile softened. "I do. It's perfect. You're glowing."
"I miss you," Eva whispered, all teasing vanishing as her voice dipped. "I haven't even left yet and I already miss you so much it hurts. Is that silly?"
"No," Seraphina said, her voice quieter now. "Not even a little. I miss you too. So much it's hard to think straight."
Eva's lips twitched. "I bet you're just pretending to be all composed, but you're actually pacing in your room like some lovesick heroine from your novels."
Seraphina laughed, pushing her hair back. "Okay, maybe a little pacing."
"Thought so." Eva leaned closer to the screen, eyes earnest now. "You don't have to say it, but… are you worried?"
Seraphina's tone shifted, low and serious. "You don't have to tell me everything, Eva. I know how your papa is. Just — if anything feels wrong… if anyone pushes too hard, if you feel unsafe — call your maman. Or Aunt Vivienne. Promise me."
Eva nodded slowly. "I promise. But… I think I can handle it. Papa says I have to."
"You are the strongest little girl I've ever known," Seraphina murmured, eyes glowing through the screen. "But strength doesn't mean doing it all alone. I'm with you, always. You're not on your own."
Eva's voice trembled as she tried to smile. "I love you."
"I love you more," Seraphina replied instantly.
"That's impossible." Eva pressed her fingers to her lips, then touched the screen. "When I come home, I'm sleeping in your arms and you're not allowed to move for at least twelve hours."
"Twelve hours?" Seraphina laughed. "That's all?"
"Okay, sixteen. And you have to brush my hair and read to me and give me kisses and —"
"I'll do all of it," Seraphina promised. "Just come back safe."
"I will." Eva blinked back tears, trying to stay brave. "Don't forget me, okay?"
"Eva," Seraphina said firmly, "I couldn't forget you if I tried."
Eva ended the call and held the phone to her chest for a long moment, her eyes closed. She let herself feel it all — love, longing, and the strange, tight pressure blooming under her chest like a secret she didn't know how to name. The breeze tugged gently at her curls, and the soft hum of the ocean below gave the night a low, steady heartbeat.
Then came the quiet scrape of a heel behind her.
She turned quickly, nearly dropping her phone.
A girl stood leaning against the far pillar of the balcony, her silhouette framed in moonlight like something lifted straight from a dream. She was tall and composed, with moon - silver hair swept into a loose, elegant updo that still looked like it could fall into a braid at any second. Her dress was sleek, tailored in a hue of pale silvery gold that shimmered faintly under the balcony lights — strikingly close to the shade of her eyes, which glowed with a calm, calculating warmth. Her skin had a soft frost - glow to it, like alabaster kissed by starlight.
"Hi," the girl said with a lazy smirk. "Didn't mean to spy. I was just passing by and caught someone being wildly romantic on the phone."
Eva flushed instantly. "I wasn't romantic," she muttered, flustered.
"Oh, you were. But it was cute. You've got someone, don't you?"
Eva hesitated. "Maybe."
"Well, she's lucky." The girl pushed off the pillar and walked over, her heels silent on the stone. "I'm Aristea Arethusa Celestine Artemis Kallistráti Rousseau – Parnassos. But most people just say Aristea."
Eva blinked. "Oh. You're… Aristea."
"The one with too many names and too many opinions," Aristea quipped. "And you're the famous Eva."
"Evangeline Claire Ainsley. Or… Maxwell — Lioré, technically."
Aristea raised a brow. "So not just Ainsley, then. You're layered."
Eva gave her a sly look. "I get that a lot."
Aristea studied her, eyes narrowing in amused scrutiny. "That dress… it's the exact shade of my eyes."
Eva blinked, then instinctively looked down at herself. Her gown was a soft, luminous silvery - gold — cool against her pale skin, draping fluidly over her petite frame. The neckline was clean and high, the silhouette classic, but there was a subtle daring in the simplicity. Her chestnut curls, with their strange blue undertones, framed her face in a way that made her look both too young and too knowing.
Aristea stepped closer and leaned in, voice dropping to a murmur just near her ear. "You look stunning wearing my eyes."
Eva turned bright red. "I… I dressed for the goddess Artemis."
Aristea smirked, clearly delighted. "Flattery. Dangerous tactic."
"Only if it's false," Eva said, chin lifted despite the warmth in her cheeks.
The older girl gave a quiet laugh, genuinely impressed. "Okay, I see you."
They stood in that silence, Eva trying not to shift too obviously under the weight of Aristea's gaze. It wasn't like the stares from inside the ballroom — those measured, political glances from adults sizing her up like a pawn. This was something else.
"What are you really like, Eva?" Aristea asked suddenly. "Beyond the name, the dress, the etiquette."
Eva considered that. "I love animals. Poetry. I like myths. I'm learning archery. I write music… to someone I miss. And I think too much."
Aristea lit up. "You're learning archery?"
"Not good yet. But I plan to be."
"Good," Aristea said firmly. "It's a sacred art. Not a hobby."
Eva smiled, then asked, "Did your parents name you after the goddess?"
"Oh, absolutely," Aristea replied with a sarcastic flair. "High expectations from birth. But I'm just a girl with a long name and even longer to - do list."
"I think you're more than that," Eva said softly. "If Artemis were a real girl, she'd probably be like you."
That stopped Aristea short.
"…You're very strange," she finally said.
Eva shrugged. "I get that a lot."
Aristea looked away with a half - laugh, brushing invisible dust off the edge of the balcony.
They stood there together, two girls stitched from different worlds, watching the stars blur above the sea. The air was thick with something unspoken, suspended in possibility. Eva didn't notice how close Aristea had gotten until she realized her own heartbeat had started to echo in her ears.
Neither of them noticed the ballroom door clicking quietly shut behind them. The night went on without interruption, save for the wind trailing stories through the trees.