LONELY HEARTS
Esmé's life takes a dramatic turn when she becomes entwined with Eiser, a son from a powerful family. Haunted by loss and trapped in a loveless marriage, she battles to connect with a man who conceals his emotions behind a wall of sile...
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BENEATH THE FALLING SNOW
"Snow falling soundlessly in the middle of the night will always fill my heart with sweet clarity." — Novala Takemoto
The sizzle of eggs in the pan and the aroma of freshly brewed oolong tea filled the air. Esmé moved with practised ease, placing the dishes on the small wooden table.
She glanced toward the bathroom door occasionally, wondering if her idea had been a bit too bold.
She had stayed up late adjusting the small crochet shirt she had made, extending the sleeves and loosening the seams to make it wearable for Eiser.
It wasn’t perfect, but it was sturdy and warm—ideal for the cold winter days.
The sound of the bathroom door creaking open pulled her from her thoughts.
Eiser stepped out, his dark hair still damp from washing, and her gaze immediately landed on the shirt. He wore it over his trousers, the light cream colour contrasting with his usual dark attire.
It fit him surprisingly well, hugging his frame in some places but loose enough to move comfortably.
Esmé froze for a moment, a spatula still in her hand, as she took in the sight.
Eiser adjusted the cuffs of the sleeves, his expression as unreadable as ever. "I suppose this was your doing?" he said.
She swallowed, setting the spatula down and brushing her hands on her apron. "You didn’t bring anything extra, and I thought… well, I had some yarn left over, and it seemed practical," she explained, her words rushing together as her cheeks warmed.
Eiser’s gaze lingered on her for a moment before he glanced down at the shirt. "It’s… functional," he remarked a faint hint of amusement in his tone.
"Functional?" she repeated, crossing her arms. "I stayed up late making sure it fit you properly, and all you can say is functional?"
His lips quirked slightly, the closest thing to a smile she had seen from him. "It’s warm. And I don’t dislike it," he offered, which from him felt like the highest compliment.
Esmé huffed, though she couldn’t suppress the small smile that tugged at her lips. "Well, I’m glad it meets your standards," she said, turning back to the stove to hide her expression.
Eiser moved to the table, his movements unhurried. He glanced at the breakfast she had prepared and then at her, his gaze softening almost imperceptibly. "Thank you," he said quietly.
She turned, surprised by the sincerity in his voice. For a moment, their eyes met, and the cottage seemed to grow quieter.
"You’re welcome," she replied just as softly.
As they shared the meal, Esmé couldn’t help but feel that, despite his unreadable nature, there was something undeniably human about Eiser at that moment—a warmth that she hadn’t expected to see.
