chapter 182
Elena's POV:
Watching my aunt—this woman who'd been terrified to even look at babies for fear of bringing misfortune—now glowing with pure joy brought unexpected tears to my eyes.
"See?" Lady Margaret said quietly beside me, her voice carrying that particular satisfaction of proven wisdom. "Children know nothing of superstitions. They only know love when they feel it."
As the ceremony concluded and guests began filtering out of the chapel, exchanging pleasantries, I noticed how Victoria seemed reluctant to relinquish her hold on Evander. She kept finding excuses to linger—adjusting his christening gown, smoothing the delicate lace, whispering what sounded like promises in his tiny ear.
The christening ceremony left me emotionally drained yet strangely fulfilled.
As the last of the guests departed and the chapel fell silent, I found myself cradling Evander in the quiet sanctuary, his tiny fingers wrapped around mine with surprising strength.
"You were perfect today," I whispered to him, adjusting the delicate christening gown I'd spent weeks embroidering. He gazed up at me with those serious gray eyes as if he understood every word.
Sebastian appeared in the doorway, his formal attire slightly rumpled from the day's activities.
The late afternoon light streaming through the stained glass windows cast colored shadows across his face, softening the sharp angles I'd come to know so well.
"Marcus is asking if we're returning to the city tonight," he said quietly, not wanting to disturb our son's peaceful mood.
I shook my head, suddenly reluctant to leave the tranquility of the manor. "Could we stay? Just for tonight?"
"Of course," he said, crossing to where I sat. "Whatever you want."
As evening fell, we found ourselves in the manor's astronomy tower, a place I'd discovered during my previous stays but had never properly explored.
Sebastian had mentioned it belonged to his grandfather, who'd been an amateur astronomer before his death.
"I used to come here as a boy," Sebastian said, adjusting the ancient telescope with practiced ease. "Grandfather would spend hours teaching me about the constellations. Said the stars were the only things in life you could count on to remain constant."
I shifted Evander to my other arm, his weight a comfortable anchor. "Do you believe that?"
He glanced at me, a wry smile touching his lips. "I used to. Then I met you."
The words hung between us, weighted with meaning. I felt heat rise to my cheeks and looked away, focusing on the sleeping infant in my arms.
"Here," Sebastian said, his voice gentle. "Let me take him. You should look."
I hesitated only a moment before transferring our son to his father's arms.
The sight of them together—Sebastian's large hands cradling Evander with infinite care—still made something twist in my chest.
I bent to the eyepiece, gasping softly as the universe exploded into view. "Oh..."
"Andromeda," Sebastian murmured behind me. "The chained princess. Rather fitting, don't you think?"
I straightened, turning to face him with a raised eyebrow. "Is that how you see me? A chained princess?"
"Not anymore," he said quietly, his gaze intense even in the dim light. "Now you're free. You could leave anytime you want. You choose to stay."
The truth of it settled over me like a weight.
He was right. The locks were gone, the surveillance dismantled. I had my own money now, my own connections. Yet here I stood, in his ancestral home, our child between us.
"Sebastian," I began, not sure what I wanted to say.
"I know," he interrupted, his voice rough. "I know what I took from you can never be—"
"Stop." The word came out sharper than I intended. Evander stirred but didn't wake. I softened my voice. "Just... stop. We can't keep circling back to this. I've made my choice."
"Have you?" The vulnerability in his voice was devastating. "Or are you here because of him? Because you think a child needs both parents?"
I considered lying. It would be easier, safer. But we'd moved beyond easy lies.
"Both," I admitted. "I'm here for Evander. But I'm also here for you. For us. Whatever that means now."
He exhaled shakily, pulling me against his side with his free arm.
We stood there in the darkness, our son between us, surrounded by the light of distant stars.
By the time we reached our room, exhaustion hit me like a physical weight. I barely managed to nurse Evander before collapsing into bed, not even bothering to change out of my day clothes.
Sebastian must have taken care of everything else—settling our son in his bassinet, drawing the curtains—because I remembered nothing until morning light streamed through the windows.
---
"Good morning, sleeping beauty," Victoria's voice drew me from my contemplation of the breakfast spread.
She looked refreshed, elegant as always in a cream silk blouse, though I caught the knowing glint in her eye. "Quite the disappearing act you pulled last night."
I felt heat creep up my neck as I adjusted Evander on my lap, buying time by fussing with his bib. "We just needed some air after all the festivities."
"Air?" Victoria's eyebrow arched in that patrician way she'd perfected. "Margaret mentioned seeing lights in the old astronomy tower around midnight."
"I was restless," I said, reaching for my tea with my free hand. "The stars were beautiful, and actually..." I paused, struck by sudden inspiration. "I think I found the concept for my next collection."
That caught her attention. "Oh?"
"A constellation series. Each scent capturing a different stellar story—Andromeda, Cassiopeia, Orion. The bottles could be designed with star maps etched in crystal, perhaps with gold leaf accents to mark the primary stars..."
"Elena," Victoria set down her fork, her expression shifting to concern. "Darling, you need rest. Surely work can wait?"