Chapter 166: The Farewell and the Echo

Chapter 166: The Farewell and the Echo

Briony's suitcase sat by the door, absurdly small for someone about to embark on a months - long E••••••• tour. It was matte white with silver clasps, understated but unmistakably designer, just like Briony herself — never loud, never showy, yet always a presence.

Eva stared at it as if it had betrayed her.

"You're really leaving," she whispered, half - curled in the crook of the staircase, arms hugging her knees.

Briony knelt beside her, smoothing a hand over Eva's chestnut honey curls. "Just for a little while, darling. I'll be back before you know it."

Eva's eyes narrowed, arms folded in a way that mimicked her maman's sternest moods. "You always say that," she muttered. "And then you go gallivanting off to V••••• or P••••• like some kind of rogue soprano with commitment issues."

Briony laughed. "Guilty."

Vivienne, lounging with a cup of tea near the window, looked up with a raised brow. "You're not helping your case, Briony."

"I'm not trying to," Briony teased, pressing a kiss to the top of Eva's head. "You know I don't belong to the Ainsley household, little genius. I just visit for the music. And the little romantic."

Eva made a small, disgruntled noise. "Well, you could belong," she muttered, then turned slightly to glance over her shoulder at Vivienne. "You could marry mére — Aunt Vivienne. Then you'd have to stay."

Vivienne inhaled sharply mid - sip and nearly choked. "Eva!"

Briony burst out laughing. "Darling, are you proposing on my behalf? Or Vivienne's?"

"Both," Eva said matter - of - factly, then looked pointedly between the two adults. "I'm tired of you pretending it's not already halfway true."

Vivienne set her cup down and gave Briony a look that was half - murder, half - faintly impressed. "Would you kindly stop encouraging her?"

"I haven't said a word!" Briony said, still grinning. "She's simply observant. Like any good Ainsley."

Eva leaned against Briony's shoulder, smirking with mischievous satisfaction. "Then it's settled. I'll draw up the paperwork later."

Vivienne groaned. "You've been reading my legal contracts again, haven't you?"

"Just the interesting parts," Eva replied sweetly. "The prenups and the inheritance clauses."

"I'm leaving now before I end up accidentally engaged," Briony laughed, ruffling Eva's hair. "But I'll call. Often."

"Every night," Eva said, slipping her hand into Briony's. "And if you miss even one, I'll make Aunt Vivienne chase you down in a helicopter."

Vivienne lifted her cup. "Don't tempt me. I've got one on standby."

Briony gave Eva's hand a squeeze. "You're too precious for this world, Solfège. And too cunning."

Eva rested her cheek against Briony's arm and murmured, "You're not so bad yourself, rogue soprano."

Briony winked, then stood. "Until next time, my little genius."

"I already miss you improperly," Eva muttered, eyes glassy.

That drew a laugh from Vivienne, who was sitting on the arm of the velvet settee, sipping her espresso like it was part of her morning choreography. "She's been rehearsing that line all morning. Don't flatter yourself."

Eva didn't argue. She leaned into Briony's embrace instead, her voice muffled against her coat. "You're not allowed to hug other children."

Briony blinked. "What?"

"You heard me." Eva lifted her head. "Even if they try to impress you with sonatas or call you maestra. No hugging."

"I suppose I'm allowed to text you goodnight?" Briony teased gently.

Eva paused. "…Only if you add a heart. And a moon. Every time."

From across the room, Seraphina looked up from her book and smirked faintly. "She's serious."

"Oh, I gathered," Briony murmured with a smile, and reached into her coat pocket. "Which is why I'm giving you this."

She placed a small, ivory velvet box in Eva's palm. The girl opened it slowly, breath catching. Inside was a charm: a silver crescent moon, smooth and radiant, nestled beside a tiny garnet heart.

"It's —" Eva's throat tightened. "It's beautiful."

Briony fastened it to Eva's delicate bracelet, her voice unusually quiet. "So you'll always know I'm with you. Even when I'm not."

Seraphina knelt beside them. "Show her what's on the back."

Eva turned the charm over. Inscribed in microscopic cursive: For the girl who taught silence to sing.

Her lip trembled. She threw her arms around Briony without hesitation.

"You're not fair," she mumbled. "You make everything harder to say goodbye to."

"I know," Briony said into her hair, stroking her back. "But you've got Yue, your Seraphina. And Vivienne. And your maman's always just a video call away."

As if summoned, Vivienne lifted her phone. "Speaking of."

The screen brightened, and Evelyn appeared — elegant as ever, silk scarf around her neck, glasses perched delicately on her nose. "Darlings," she smiled. "How's my girl?"

Eva's entire body lit up. She scrambled into Seraphina's lap without hesitation, nestling in close as Vivienne turned the screen toward her.

"Maman!" she beamed.

Evelyn laughed softly. "There you are. Is that my diamond thief in Yue's arms again?"

"Guilty," Seraphina murmured, wrapping her arms around Eva protectively.

"She's been clingier than usual," Vivienne said, eyes sparkling. "And she threatened to sabotage Briony's train."

"Sabotage is a strong word," Eva corrected primly. "I just said the brakes looked suspicious."

Evelyn chuckled. "My little dove, you're impossible."

"I miss you," Eva said, suddenly quiet.

Evelyn's smile softened. "I miss you more. I'll call again tonight, alright? You can tell me all about your studies. And Yue can show me what you've been reading."

"Philosophy," Eva said proudly. "And moral paradoxes. Yesterday Seraphina asked if it's ever wrong to tell the truth."

Briony raised an eyebrow. "She's seven."

"Seven turning eight soon going on ethically dangerous," Seraphina said with a sigh, smoothing Eva's hair.

"I like thinking about things that make my brain itch," Eva added seriously.

"That's my girl," Evelyn said softly. "And remember, your heart is just as important as your brain."

Eva looked down at the moon charm, then up at Seraphina, then back at the screen. "I'm trying to remember that."

When the call ended, the room was quieter than before. Briony stood, collecting her things. Vivienne helped carry her suitcase to the door, while Seraphina stayed behind with Eva curled against her.

"You know," Seraphina murmured, "you didn't cry."

"I didn't?" Eva blinked. "I thought I did."

"Not a single tear," Seraphina confirmed. "Just dramatic declarations and emotional blackmail. I'm proud."

Eva smiled faintly, then tucked her face into Seraphina's neck. "I love you more than the moon," she said quietly.

Seraphina's arms tightened. "I love you more than anything."

The door clicked shut behind Briony.

That evening, Eva sat at her desk while Seraphina read across the room. Eva's textbooks were scattered like a fan — Aristotle, Gödel, and a battered copy of The Ethics of Ambiguity.

"I'm thinking too much again," Eva groaned. "I need brain silence."

"Come here," Seraphina murmured, patting the seat beside her on the chaise.

Eva shuffled over and climbed into Seraphina's lap, stretching out and letting her head rest against her shoulder. The tension in her body melted almost instantly.

"You're warm," she mumbled.

"You're small."

Eva yawned. "I'm growing."

"Not fast enough to win any arguments yet."

"I don't need height to be right," Eva countered, eyes fluttering. "I have logic. And moral superiority."

Seraphina snorted. "Sure you do."

A few moments passed in easy quiet before Eva said softly, "Can you sleep here tonight?"

Seraphina looked down at her. "You don't have to ask."

Eva curled up a little tighter, a content sigh escaping her. "I like this part of the day best."

"What part?"

"When I don't have to pretend to be impressive."

Seraphina kissed the crown of her head. "You're not impressive because you try. You're impressive because you are."

Eva was silent, but the way she snuggled in closer said more than any words could.

Later that night, just as Vivienne was finishing her tea and Seraphina was helping Eva into one of her oversized shirts for bed, there was a quiet knock at the door. Vivienne went to answer it.

A man in a dark overcoat handed her a sealed envelope with a crest Eva instantly recognized.

Vivienne frowned as she turned it over. "From your father," she said, voice low.

Eva's heart stopped.

The wax seal was heavy, deep red, and pressed with the unmistakable crest of Reginald Ainsley.

She stared at it.

"He never sends letters," Eva whispered.

Seraphina moved instantly to her side, her hand brushing gently against hers.

Vivienne placed the letter on the table. "He said to open it alone. After everyone else is asleep."

Eva looked between them.

Seraphina leaned in, whispering in her ear: "Whatever it says, you're not alone."

Eva nodded once, and stared at the letter like it might catch fire.

She didn't know what it said. But she knew it would change everything.