Lauriver Chronicles

Chapter 119

Moira was currently sitting at a table outside a small cafe in Ireland, taking in the simple life she'd been living since she came to Europe following her parole. She felt like coming here had been exactly what she'd needed after the whole Undertaking incident. For the first time since she'd learned of that horrific plot, she felt free. Since Oliver had given her complete access to the Queen Consolidated jet, she'd been travelling all over Europe, making sure to get plenty of presents for her granddaughter while she was gone.

She'd spent time in Switzerland, enjoying the peace of the Alps, though she refrained from going skiing, but she did enjoy the anonymity she had there. Her next stop was France, where she'd of course taken in the sights in Paris, including the Eiffel tower and the Seine. After that she went to Greece, which was probably where the healing process truly began for her, especially as she looked over the Acropolis in Athens and saw the ruins of the Parthenon in front of her and how the country was attempting to rebuild it. It reminded her of how she was trying to rebuild her life after everything that had happened.

Next came Italy, where she mainly stayed in Rome, since she couldn't bring herself to go to Milan without Thea, since her daughter would never forgive her for going to one of the fashion hotspots of the world without her. But Moira did visit the Colosseum and walk the old Forum, taking in the sites and history. She also spent time in Florence, Sicily and Tuscany.

After Italy, Moira traveled to England, specifically London, where she took in all the classic sites, including Big Bend, Buckingham Palace, the big Ferris Wheel and watched the changing of the guard. One evening, she attended a performance at the Royal Opera House. She hadn't intended to, but when she passed the building and saw the posters outside, something in her tugged. The music washed over her like a tide — powerful, precise, and achingly beautiful. Sitting in the dim glow of the theater, she felt a sense of renewal she hadn't realized she was craving.

Her next stop was Germany, where she found herself unexpectedly drawn into the country's musical soul. Berlin was her first destination — a city that wore its history openly, yet moved with a quiet determination she admired. She walked along the remnants of the Berlin Wall, but it was the music that stayed with her. One afternoon, she slipped into St. Thomas Church in Leipzig, where Bach had once composed. A small ensemble was rehearsing, their voices rising and falling in perfect harmony beneath the vaulted ceiling. Moira sat in the back pew, letting the precision and order of the music settle something inside her that had been restless for years.

From there she traveled to Dresden, attending a performance at the Semperoper — a building destroyed and rebuilt stone by stone, much like the life she was trying to reconstruct. As the orchestra swelled, she felt a warmth in her chest she hadn't expected, a reminder that beauty could survive even the worst of history.

Munich offered a different kind of comfort. She visited a small museum dedicated to Richard Strauss, admiring the ambition and emotion woven into his work. In a nearby shop, she found a tiny wooden music box that played a soft German lullaby — the perfect gift for Jasmine. It felt right, something gentle from a country that had taught her strength.

Germany didn't heal her the way Greece had, nor soften her the way Italy did. But it grounded her. It reminded her that rebuilding wasn't just emotional — it was deliberate, structured, a choice made day after day. And as she boarded the jet for Ireland, she realized she was no longer running from her past. She was walking toward whatever came next.

But she knew that Ireland was going to need to be her last stop, since it was getting close time for her to go home, since she needed to be home to help Thea plan her wedding and she'd never forgive herself if she missed Laurel giving birth to the twins.

But that didn't stop her from savoring every remaining moment she had here. Ireland had become a kind of soft landing place — the quiet exhale at the end of a long, winding journey. She'd spent her mornings wandering through the narrow streets near her hotel, stopping at little bakeries where the owners already recognized her face. In the afternoons, she'd take long walks along the River Liffey or sit in St. Stephen's Green watching children feed ducks, imagining Jasmine doing the same someday.

She'd taken a tour out to the countryside, letting herself get lost among rolling green hills and ancient stone walls that had stood longer than most countries had existed. There was something comforting about that kind of permanence, something that made her feel like maybe she could be steady again too.

She'd even allowed herself one evening in a small pub where a local band played traditional Irish music. The fiddle, the bodhrán, the low hum of voices singing along — it all wrapped around her like a warm blanket. She found herself smiling without forcing it, tapping her fingers lightly against her glass in time with the music.

Right now she was sitting at a cafe, sipping some tea while reading an old book and soaking in the last few days of her trip before she had to head home when she felt someone tap her shoulder.

"Pardon me ma'am, is this seat taken?" a man asked and Moira realized this was another American.

"Excuse me?" Moira asked the man, who was wearing civilian clothes, but walked around with an air that she recognized as a military man, since her son was one as well.

"I normally wouldn't ask a stranger for this, but I already ordered a coffee and there's nowhere else to sit." the man said.

"Please." Moira said, gesturing to him to take the chair, which he did.

"Thank you. Sam Lane." Sam said, holding out his hand to Moira, who shook it.

"Moira Queen. Nice to meet you." Moira said.

"You too. Though I did recognize you from the news." Sam said.

"Just when I was starting to enjoy no one knowing who I am." Moira complained, getting ready to shoo him away.

"No, I don't judge you for what you did. You were just trying to protect your family and you came clean before anyone could get hurt. I respect that." Sam said.

"Really. You're one of the only ones who think that way." Moira said as they continued to talk.