ೃ༄ 𝐒𝐀𝐋𝐓 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐒𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐖 𖦹 🕯️🌊
‹𝟹 「ᴋᴀᴢ ʙʀᴇᴋᴋᴇʀ 」
⠂⠁⠈⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂
𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 - eulalie winterrose is determined to find out who killed her sister and make it out alive.
"𝘰𝘩, 𝘪 𝘤𝘢𝘯'𝘵 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘱 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘱𝘶𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘵...
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chapter fifteen / salt and sorrow ❛ but it's been promised to another ❜
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There weren't any fireworks. Not yet, anyway. But Killian's subtle mischief made Eulalie follow him into the garden, anticipating when he would get down on one knee. She was never one for surprises, but this was something she should want. She wished Rhiannon was there, even though she would have been teased and given countless "I told you so's." Eulalie imagined Cecily would make up for it as she usually did.
If Rhiannon were still alive, she would have reveled in the wedding planning, the dress fittings, organizing the guest list, and picking out the flowers. She always said white gardenias were the most romantic, though Eulalie had to disagree. Perhaps Rhiannon wouldn't have cared if they all moved on so fast after her death, especially with Killian home and safe.
The flickering lanterns lining the path cast dancing shadows, creating a magical ambiance. The garden, adorned with strings of candlelights and fragrant blossoms that somehow retained their strength in the late winter chill, embraced them in a cloak of enchantment. The soft, salty breeze cradled the melody of the distant string music, its delicate notes playing a sweet serenade that intertwined with the snow that began to drift around Eulalie and Killian. It accumulated on his golden hair like a halo and dusted the tops of his shoulders. He looked like what Eulalie was convinced that he was—an angel. A beautiful angel.
Rhiannon's memorial statue had been temporarily placed at the garden's entrance, a solemn reminder of her. Michael had commissioned a statue of Clíodhna's three birds, the goddess Rhiannon prayed to. They seemed to come alive in the moonlit night. Eulalie couldn't help but trace the contours with her fingers, feeling the cold stone beneath her touch. Many thought Rhiannon prayed to Clíodhna because of her vanity, but Eulalie knew it was to keep the plague away.
Eulalie struggled to drag her lingering eyes away from the memorial, wondering if Rhiannon had screamed as the Queen of the Banshees did.
"I know tonight is supposed to be happy," Eulalie confessed as she felt Killian's hand wrap around hers, a reassuring warmth grounding her in the chaos of her mind, "but I can't help missing Rhia. She would love to be here right now."
