Chapter 21
Seraphine didn't agree, nor did she refuse. She simply tucked the gemstone ring away safely and gave a slight nod. "I should get going."
"All right, be careful on your way home. Valencia, take care."
Valencia rose to her feet and gave Orion a polite half-bow. "Mr. FitzRoy, we'll come visit you again another day."
"Yes, yes," Orion said with a hearty chuckle, waving his hand dismissively. "You two go on about your business. Don't worry about me. With Seraphine here, I feel at ease."
The mother and daughter left the hospital room, and the hallway fell quiet once more.
Orion leaned back against the hospital bed. The smile on his face slowly faded, replaced by a contemplative expression.
His assistant stepped inside and asked softly, "Mr. FitzRoy, are you tired? Would you like to rest for a bit?"
"Not tired," Orion said, shaking his head. Then he suddenly asked, "What do you think of Seraphine?"
The assistant paused, then smiled. "Ms. Wipere is highly skilled in medicine and has an outstanding presence. She's a rare gem."
"Yes," Orion agreed with a nod. "Before today, I thought switching the engagement from Ondine to her might not be appropriate. After all, when we arranged the engagement with the Windsor family, we agreed on their daughter. Changing it to someone else—it felt like we were letting the Windsor family down."
The assistant remained silent, waiting for him to continue.
"But after meeting Seraphine today, my mind's at ease." Orion's tone carried a note of admiration. "This girl is leagues ahead of Ondine. Skilled in medicine, straightforward, poised—she's someone with a mind of her own. That brat's got good taste, I'll give him that."
The assistant smiled. "Mr. Octavius FitzRoy does have excellent judgment."
"The question is whether the girl's willing," Orion said with a sigh. "You saw her yourself. Seraphine's not the type to let others push her around. If we bring up the engagement directly, she might refuse on the spot."
The assistant thought for a moment. "This matter can't be rushed. Ms. Wipere just returned to the Windsor family. She's still adjusting with them. Bringing up the engagement now wouldn't be appropriate."
"I know," Orion said with a nod. "That's why I'm thinking we need to find the right moment—and we need to ask Seraphine what she wants. If she's willing, everyone wins. If she's not, we can't force her."
He gazed out the window, his eyes distant. "Young people today aren't like we were back then. We had arranged marriages—parents' orders, matchmakers' words. Today's young people believe in mutual affection. You can't force a melon off the vine and expect it to be sweet. I understand that."
The assistant nodded. "You're absolutely right."
"All right," Orion said, waving his hand. "We'll put this on hold for now. We'll bring it up once Seraphine's situation with the Windsor family has stabilized. Go tell Octavius not to rush things. Let him focus on his own business."
"Yes, sir." The assistant exited the room, gently closing the door behind him.
Orion leaned back in bed, his fingers idly rubbing the bare spot on his hand where the gemstone ring had been for decades. Now it was with Seraphine.
He closed his eyes, a faint smile playing at the corners of his mouth.
He truly liked this girl.
If she could become his granddaughter-in-law, that would be even better.
The car slowly pulled out of the hospital and merged into traffic.
Valencia turned her head to look at her daughter.
Seraphine was leaning against the back seat, her gaze fixed on the passing scenery outside. Her profile was cool and serene.
Sunlight filtered through the car window, falling across her face and casting a faint shadow beneath her eyes.
Valencia hesitated, then finally spoke. "Sera."
Seraphine turned her head to look at her.
Valencia opened her mouth. The words she wanted to say rolled on the tip of her tongue before she finally let them out. "All those years at the Wipere family… were you happy?"
Seraphine fell silent for a few seconds.
The scenery outside the window kept receding. Her gaze rested somewhere in the distance, as if she were looking at something—or at nothing at all.
"My adoptive father treated me all right." Her tone was calm, as if she were talking about something that had nothing to do with her.
Valencia's heart tightened.
"All right"—the phrase sounded polite, but beneath it lay a quiet distance.
Not "very well", not "pretty good", but "all right".
That was how you spoke about a stranger.
"What about your adoptive mother?" Valencia asked tentatively.
Seraphine's eyelashes fluttered slightly.
"At first, she wasn't bad either." Her voice was soft. "It was just… ordinary."
Valencia said nothing, waiting for her to continue.
"Last week, Xiomara came home," Seraphine's tone remained even, but Valencia noticed her hand clenching slightly. "They found out they'd raised the wrong child."
Last week.
"And then?" Valencia's voice was tight.
Seraphine was silent for a moment.
She didn't mention Xiomara framing her for seducing Gavin. She didn't mention Haven pointing at her nose and calling her an 'ungrateful wretch.' She didn't mention the even harsher words that had been thrown at her.
She didn't want to talk about those things.
Not because she still held any affection for the Wipere family, but because—she wasn't ready to completely open her heart to the woman sitting across from her.
They were biological mother and daughter, yes, but they'd been apart for twenty years.
Twenty years of absence couldn't be filled with a few sentences.
Seraphine lowered her eyelashes, her tone still flat. "After that, it wasn't good anymore."
One sentence.
Light as a feather.
But Valencia heard the weight behind those words.
Because the real daughter had come home, the adoptive mother's attitude had changed. Why had it changed? Because there was now a comparison, a choice to be made, a line drawn between blood and not-blood.
In Haven's eyes, Xiomara was her biological daughter, and Seraphine was just a foster child—so Seraphine became "not good anymore".
Valencia's eyes began to sting.
She didn't ask any more questions.
She wanted to know more. She wanted to know how much Seraphine had suffered at the Wipere family, how Haven had treated her, how her daughter had survived all those years alone.
But she didn't dare ask.
Because she was afraid she'd break down and cry—and afraid that pressing for answers would only hurt her daughter more.
If Sera didn't want to talk about it, she wouldn't ask.
This was the only thing she could do for her daughter as a mother right now.
The car passed through an intersection, and the sunlight outside suddenly grew brighter.
Valencia took a deep breath, turned, and reached out to clasp Seraphine's hand.
Seraphine flinched slightly and looked down at her mother's hand holding hers.
That hand was warm and soft, carrying a quiet strength that brought comfort.
"Sera," Valencia's voice wavered, but her tone was firm, "the past is behind us now. From now on, I'm here."
She tightened her grip on her daughter's hand, speaking each word with careful precision. "I won't let you suffer even the slightest hurt again."
Seraphine looked at her.
Valencia's eyes were red-rimmed, tears brimming but refusing to fall.
She was trying hard to keep her voice steady, unwilling to fall apart in front of her daughter.
Seraphine said nothing.
But her fingers shifted slightly.
Then, gently, she squeezed her mother's hand in return.