The drunken Delphine was as obedient as could be, resembling the 15-year-old girl he first met. Three months after he'd returned from the United Kingdom, Beatrice brought the young Delphine into the Leclair residence.
The petite girl wore a blue cotton dress that had been washed to the point of fading. Her jet-black eyes sparkled faintly, like fragments of starlight. Nervously clutching the hem of her outdated dress, she timidly greeted him, "Hello, brother."
All this time had passed, long enough for Delphine to grow into a woman, and now she was back at his side again.
Ignatius Leclair cupped her small face, his handsome features unreadable. Seeing her curled tightly into the chair like a frightened little thing, clutching at his coat, he watched her silently.
The man stared at her coldly for a long while before pulling his coat from her petite fingers and taking her hand in his large one.