Between our hands

Chapter 35: Beneath the Silences.

The palace vibrated from dawn, every corner echoing with the preparations underway. Sunlight slipped through the immense windows, bathing the corridors in its golden glow, while staff, guards, and advisors bustled about, preparing for the day’s meetings. The hurried whispers, the quick footsteps, and the clinking of coffee or tea cups accompanied the feverish atmosphere. The energy was palpable, and everyone seemed fully aware of the importance of the discussions that would take place.

In her room, Maëlle prepared calmly, but a certain tension weighed on her movements. She knew that this day would be crucial for the future of events. Reforms, economic issues, and strategic adjustments rested heavily on her shoulders. Samuel Georges and other influential family members would be present, along with a panel of foreign advisors, adding extra pressure.

She adjusted a rebellious strand of hair in front of the mirror, lost in thought. Behind her, a few steps away, Samy watched in silence. He was always there, a reassuring presence in the shadows. His attentive gaze methodically swept across the room, as if already anticipating every detail to be monitored throughout the day. Nothing escaped his attention.

After one last glance at her reflection, Maëlle turned to Samy. “Ready for a long day,” she murmured, more to herself than to him. Samy, with his usual discretion, simply nodded, his expression neutral but his eyes always alert. His unwavering professionalism seemed to soothe Maëlle, reminding her that she was not alone in this journey.

The first meeting of the day was held in a large conference room with dark wood paneling, adorned with fine tapestries. Crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling cast a soft, elegant light, creating a subdued atmosphere despite the gravity of the discussions to come. Family members, advisors, and experts were already in place, each leafing through documents, perfecting their notes.

Maëlle entered the room, her eyes quickly scanning each familiar face. She felt slightly tense but determined to make a good impression. She took her designated seat at the head of the table as the discussions began almost immediately, diving straight into the technical details of infrastructure reforms.

At the back, Samy positioned himself near the door, as was his habit. He didn’t participate in the discussions, but he was never truly inactive. His gaze moved from corner to corner of the room, noting every movement, every detail. At one point, as Maëlle briefly looked up from her notes, she caught his eye. A fleeting moment, but enough for her to find in his subtle smile an anchor of serenity. This simple interaction, though brief, reminded her that she always had a constant in her tumultuous life.

The meeting proceeded in a rigid and structured manner. Expansion plans, discussions on upcoming projects, and partnerships were dissected in minute detail. Maëlle, despite the mental fatigue beginning to accumulate, remained focused, taking methodical notes while participating in the discussions. From time to time, she glanced up and noticed that Samy was still watching over her, like a benevolent shadow. She gave him a subtle smile, which he returned with equal discretion. This non-verbal communication was reassuring, a form of connection that required no words.

The first meeting stretched late into the morning, and after a short break to catch their breath, Maëlle and the others moved to a new room for the second session. This one focused on community issues and was held in a more intimate space, with walls lined with old books and detailed maps. The chairs arranged in a circle around a large wooden table enhanced the studious atmosphere.

Maëlle, tired but focused, immersed herself once again in the discussions, analyzing each proposal with a sharp, critical mind. Samy, still silent, stood a bit further back this time, but his eyes never abandoned their vigilance. During this meeting, their eyes met several times. These stolen moments, marked by almost imperceptible smiles, were like breaths of fresh air for Maëlle amidst the constant pressure of the meetings.

Time advanced, and Maëlle began to feel the effects of fatigue. Her shoulders were heavy, her temples pulsed slightly under the tension of accumulated hours. Yet she didn’t let her concentration slip, fully aware of the importance of the last meeting: the one on economic reforms.

This meeting took place in a more austere room. Foreign experts were present, adding a more technical dimension to the already complex debates. The discussion revolved around budgetary adjustments and the implications of upcoming economic policies. Maëlle, leaning over her notes, listened intently to every intervention. The intensity of the exchanges, combined with the density of information, drew her into extreme focus.

As she stood to retrieve a document, a minor incident occurred. While trying to move around the table, her foot caught on a cable lying on the floor. A sudden imbalance caused her to stumble, but before she could hit the ground, Samy reacted. He had already moved closer, his instincts on alert, and extended his hand not to catch her, but to offer quick, discreet support.

The contact was brief, almost imperceptible, but enough to avoid an embarrassing fall. Maëlle immediately straightened up, her eyes meeting Samy’s. No awkwardness, no embarrassment, just a calm, understanding exchange of looks. Samy gave a slight nod, confirming that he was always watching over her, before repositioning himself, the incident already in the past for him.

This moment, though seemingly banal, carried a deeper meaning. There was a delicacy in that gesture, a silent protection. It wasn’t a clichéd romantic scene, but a simple reminder that Samy was there, always attentive, never overstepping. Their connection was strengthened by these subtle moments, devoid of grand gestures but loaded with emotional weight that only the two of them could understand.

The day finally ended, and Maëlle, exhausted from hours of discussions, joined her family in the main lounge. The room, illuminated by the warm glow of chandeliers, offered a well-deserved respite after a day of intense efforts. The plush velvet armchairs, Persian rugs, and refined woodwork created a welcoming atmosphere of relaxation.

Maëlle collapsed into an armchair, her tense muscles finally relaxing. She glanced in Samy’s direction, who was still standing at a distance, positioned near the lounge entrance. Their silent connection, woven throughout the day, required no words. She stood, crossed the room, and approached him with a tired but sincere smile.

“You’ve had a long day too,” she said softly.

Samy, true to himself, simply nodded. “Nothing I can’t handle,” he replied with a subtle smile, his attentive gaze never leaving her.

This brief exchange, marked by elegant simplicity, was enough to soothe them both. Maëlle knew she could always rely on him, not just as a guard, but as a constant, reassuring presence.