Chapter 47
The fragrance of tea still lingered in the living room when the sharp click of heels on marble rang out from the doorway—fast, hard, deliberate.
When Flora walked in, Orion's face still wore its smile.
She was dressed in a dark olive-green suit, her makeup immaculate, hair pinned without a single strand out of place. A smile rested at the corner of her lips—but it stopped there, never reaching her eyes.
"Dad, you have guests and didn't say a word?" Flora's gaze swept the living room, skimming past Clayton, past Ondine, before landing on Seraphine and stopping.
That look was the kind reserved for an inexpensive ornament that had appeared in the living room without explanation.
"Why are you here?" Orion set down his chess piece, his tone cooling.
"To see you, of course." Flora smiled and settled onto the sofa, landing right beside Ondine.
Ondine instinctively shifted aside. Flora patted the back of her hand with an air of easy familiarity, eyes still fixed on Seraphine. "Dad, is this the daughter the Windsor family just brought back?"
Orion made a sound of confirmation.
Flora picked up an untouched cup of tea from the coffee table and took a sip, her tone as casual as discussing the weather—but with the edge of an attack fully intact. "I saw her once at the hospital. Thought she looked familiar even then. Quite the presence she had—blocking me at the ward door, saying you needed rest. I thought I'd stumbled across some truly important figure." She paused. "Turns out—she's the Windsor family's newest daughter."
She let that "turns out" hang in the air, the pause stuffed with everything she'd chosen not to say aloud.
Seraphine sat at the chess table, a piece pinched between her fingers, her expression unchanged.
Octavius tilted his head and glanced at Flora.
The look was cold.
Flora either didn't notice or pretended not to—and continued. "Not that it's surprising. These days, girls with a little ability want the whole world to know about it. Know a bit of medicine, so you get close to a father figure. Linger long enough and the right opportunity comes along. Only, this Ms. Seraphine Wipere—"
She smiled, turning toward Ondine. "If I recall correctly, wasn't Ondine the one with the engagement to Octavius?"
Ondine was caught off guard by the sudden mention of her name. Her expression instantly shifted into a picture of pitiful grievance, her eyes reddening at precisely the right moment.
She lowered her head, both hands twisting the hem of her skirt, silent—playing the role of a victim who'd had her engagement stolen but didn't dare speak.
Three full seconds of silence in the living room.
Octavius spoke. "The engagement was always between the Windsor family and the FitzRoy family from start to finish. Seraphine is the Windsor family's daughter. The engagement was hers by right. No one replaced anyone."
Flora's smile stiffened for a beat before recovering. "Octavius, everything you say seems to take her side. What spell did she put on you?"
Octavius lifted his gaze and finally let it rest on Flora—deep and cold, like still water with no ripple. "How did you know her name was Seraphine? And how did you know she'd be here tonight?"
Flora was caught off guard.
When it registered, her eyes flared. "I come to visit my own father and I've done something wrong? As for why you're all here—how would I know? Pure coincidence!"
Octavius leaned back in his chair, tone unchanged. "Grandpa specifically asked that her return to the Windsor family not be made public. The Windsor family hasn't breathed a word outside. Yet you seem remarkably well-informed, Aunt Flora."
The words were neither heavy nor light—but they worked like a scalpel, slicing through Flora's "just dropping by to see Dad" pretense and exposing the informant beneath.
The smile on Flora's face finally cracked. The corner of her mouth twitched. She started to speak—
Octavius didn't give her the chance.
He looked at her the way someone looks at a document they've already read to the end. "Aunt Flora. Did you really come here today to see Grandpa?"
Flora's expression darkened completely.
She set down the teacup, done pretending. "Octavius, don't think so highly of yourself. Father isn't only your elder—what's wrong with me visiting him? If anything, you're the one—"
She pointed at Seraphine. "Blocking me at the hospital last time, and now bringing her into this house. What, has she got you completely bewitched? This girl causes trouble wherever she goes. You're the FitzRoy family heir—and you're running around after her?"
She pivoted toward Orion, her tone shifting on a dime from confrontational to earnest concern. "Dad, don't take this the wrong way. There are all sorts of people these days with unknown backgrounds, getting close to you under the pretense of medical skill. Who knows what they're really after? It could well be the FitzRoy family's money—"
"Enough." Orion brought his cane down against the floor. The sound wasn't loud, but the entire living room went silent.
He lifted his head slowly and looked at Flora. Those aged but clear eyes held a kind of authority that was difficult to meet head-on.
He didn't raise his voice. He didn't lose his temper. He simply said her name, calmly.
Flora's lips moved. She started to say something, then swallowed it back.
She knew her father—when he used this tone, one more word would only mean humiliating herself.
The living room was quiet enough to hear the second hand of the old clock on the wall.
Ondine sat with her head bowed, an almost invisible curve at the corner of her mouth.
Clayton stood holding the teapot, his expression stiff, unsure where to look.
Octavius sat beside Seraphine, one hand resting on his knee, his posture unhurried.
And Seraphine—she had been placing chess pieces on the board one by one from start to finish, as though the entire storm had nothing to do with her.
Only when Flora said "unknown background" did the corner of her mouth lift slightly. She simply found it absurd.
Clayton's expression had gone cold. His voice was flat and even. "Ms. FitzRoy, if you speak to my sister disrespectfully again, I won't be polite to you either."
"You—" Flora was furious but didn't dare fire back directly.
She hadn't expected the Windsor family to be this protective of a daughter they'd only just brought home.
Octavius stood.
He didn't look at Flora again. He turned to Orion instead. "Grandpa, it's getting late. I'll take Sera home. I'll come see you again soon."
Orion nodded, his tone warming back to its usual gentleness. "Sera, same time next week. Don't let people who don't matter ruin your mood."
The words "don't matter" settled into the living room. Flora's expression darkened another shade.
Octavius shifted slightly, one hand hovering at Seraphine's lower back—not quite touching, but the gesture made his position clear enough.
Clayton set down the teapot, scratched the back of his head, and moved to follow—accidentally kicking the coffee table leg on his way out. A clang rang out. He grabbed it quickly.
"Hey, wait for me!"