"of course, when you're dating, it has that effect."
⨳
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viii. Emerald
GREETING HER PARENTS AGAIN FELT LIKE A KICK IN THE STOMACH.Eulalia had grumbled earlier about leaving, but it wasn't until she was standing face to face with her father that the weight of returning home truly settled in. It gnawed at her, a discomfort she hadn't quite acknowledged until now. Her mother, meanwhile, was fussing over Nereida, pulling her into a tight embrace and prattling on about how much she'd missed them. The scene was almost picturesque, the kind of reunion that would warm the hearts of onlookers. But for Eulalia, it felt more like an obligation, a script she was expected to follow rather than a moment of genuine connection.
The cold of the winter air seemed to have seeped into her bones, matching the chill in her father's eyes. She cast a glance at Valerian, who looked almost uncomfortable, and soon Nereida, whose smile was genuine, innocent even.
How did her sister manage it? How did she find joy in this hollow charade? Eulalia's own attempts at a smile felt strained, as though it might crack at any moment under the weight of her true feelings.
Eulalia could only let out a weary sigh as they finally arrived back at the manor. The familiar sight of her room, once a sanctuary, now filled her with an unshakable sense of unease. They had gone through this routine for four years now, but this time, it felt different—more uncomfortable, more suffocating. She couldn't decide if it was a genuine shift in the atmosphere or if her own thoughts were simply too tangled to allow her any peace.
One particular thought gnawed at her, refusing to be silenced: the words Harry had spoken to her before they'd left. His voice echoed in her mind, the words replaying over and over. What had driven him to say such things? And why had he done it so abruptly, barely giving her a moment to respond? The mystery of it weighed heavily on her, and she shook her head in frustration, hoping to dispel the thoughts that clung to her like a shadow.
Her musings were interrupted by a soft knock on her door. The door creaked open, revealing Claire, the housekeeper who had been with their family for years.
"Ravi de te revoir, Eulalia. Ton père t'a-t-il informée du dîner de ce soir?" (Wonderful to have you back, Eulalia. Has your father notified you of tonight's dinner?) Claire asked as she entered, placing a tray down with a gentle clink and handing Eulalia a cup of tea.
Ah, the dinner. As if the upcoming ball weren't enough, now they had a dinner with the Malfoys to contend with—at their manor, no less. Her father had been quick to mention it, his displeasure evident when both Mirelia and Cassian casually declined the invitation—which was more of a demand than anything else. Mirelia had pleaded the excuse of needing to care for her children, while Cassian simply declared he had no interest in attending.
