Chapter 21: The Unfamiliar Voices

The sound of distant footsteps startled me.

I looked up from the book Alisa had given me — a soft, worn volume of poetry she'd said matched "my rhythm"—and blinked at the unfamiliar echo. It came not from the hallways I walked daily, nor the quiet study where Alisa's voice often flowed like warm honey. This sound was different. It carried weight. History.

A moment later, the main doors opened.

And I saw them.

My parents.

Father still carried the air of something distant, tall and immaculately dressed, as if he'd stepped out of another country's colder season. Mother's perfume arrived before she did, delicate and floral — unfamiliar, almost strange. Her smile was warm, but her eyes darted past me to Alisa before settling back.

"Noah," Mother said, stepping forward.

"Mom," I said slowly. The word felt strange on my tongue.

She pulled me into a brief hug. I stiffened out of instinct.

It wasn't cold. It just… wasn't familiar.

Alisa arrived a breath later, her presence like a shield sliding quietly between us. She didn't say a word—just stood at my side, her hand brushing lightly against my back, an unspoken reassurance.

Father gave a slight nod. "You've grown."

"Thank you," I said, almost automatically. Alisa had taught me how to answer when I didn't know what else to say.

"We'll be here only briefly," Mother explained, stepping around me, inspecting the house as if trying to find traces of dust. "Just checking on things."

I nodded, unsure what "things" needed checking. The estate hadn't changed. Alisa had made sure of that.

Their voices felt louder than necessary as they walked through the living room — speaking of estate finances, future travel, distant acquaintances I had never met. I sat silently, hands folded in my lap, listening to the strange rhythm of a world I didn't know.

And then, as suddenly as they had appeared, Mother turned toward me.

"There's something else," she said, exchanging a look with Father. "You'll have a guest soon. A girl."

"A girl?" I repeated, confused.

"Your fiancée," Father said, like it was something completely ordinary. "Her name is Reika. She'll be staying with you. Getting to know you."

My chest tightened. I didn't speak.

Alisa's hand tensed where it touched my shoulder, her body perfectly still.

"She'll arrive next week," Mother added briskly. "She's a lovely girl. Comes from a very respectable family."

"You've been doing well, haven't you?" Father asked, his voice sharp in that gentle way that always sounded like a test. "Your sister's been good to you."

I nodded quietly. "She's everything."

That made Alisa blink. She didn't say anything.

Mother smiled again, this time thinner. "We'll be gone before lunch. There's a dinner we must attend in Marseille."

They didn't ask what I had been doing. They didn't look at my bookshelf, or ask if I liked my teachers, or wonder what I thought about the girl who would be coming to stay. It wasn't that they didn't care — it just felt like they had already decided what mattered.

As they left, Alisa stood at the threshold of the door beside me, her hand once again brushing against mine.

Only when the front doors shut, and the silence returned like a warm blanket around the house, did I hear her inhale deeply.

"I don't want them here again," she said softly.

I looked at her, startled.

Her voice remained calm, but her gaze was distant. "They disrupt everything."

"Fiancée?" I asked quietly.

Alisa turned toward me, her smile practiced and gentle.

"Don't worry," she said, taking my hand. "You won't have to think about her yet."

Later That Night

I lay in bed, the shadows soft on the walls.

The house was quiet again. Mine again. Ours.

Alisa sat beside me as she always did, brushing my hair back with quiet devotion.

"They'll leave again," I whispered.

She nodded, smoothing the covers over me. "Yes. That's what they do."

"But why…?"

She hushed me gently with her fingers to my lips. "Because they don't know you like I do. They can't protect you."

Her voice was kind. But something in it pressed down like snowfall—soft, heavy, unrelenting.

"And the girl?"

"She's just another thing they've decided for you. But we decide your world together, remember?"

I nodded slowly.

She leaned forward and placed a kiss on my forehead — the same way she always had. Familiar. Grounding.

"I'll keep you safe," she whispered again. "Always."

And I believed her.

Even as the name "Reika" sat in my mind like a pebble in still water — causing tiny ripples I couldn't yet understand.

The late afternoon sun filtered through the tall windows of the Everhart estate, casting long shadows across the drawing room where Noah sat quietly beside Alisa. The atmosphere was calm, but beneath the surface, a subtle tension stirred—one neither of them spoke aloud.

The door opened gently, and their parents entered together, composed but carrying the weight of unspoken news. Their mother's eyes briefly met Noah's, her smile tight yet warm.

"We have something important to discuss," their father began, voice steady but carrying a hint of formality. "There is an arrangement that was made long ago, before either of you could have any say."

Noah's heart beat faster, curiosity mingling with unease.

"You both have been officially registered as husband and wife," their father said. "The papers were signed a year ago."

Alisa's hand found Noah's, a quiet anchor amid the unexpected revelation.

"It was forgotten in the shuffle of time," their mother added softly, "but the agreement stands."

Noah swallowed, his mind racing. He looked to Alisa, whose eyes were steady but unreadable.

"This means," his father continued, "that soon, your fiancé—your wife—will come to live with you here."

Noah's gaze sharpened. "Fiancé? Wife?"

"Both," his father answered simply. "The arrangement was made to secure the family's legacy and future."

The room seemed to hold its breath as the implications settled over them.

Alisa squeezed his hand gently, her voice low yet certain. "Whatever happens, we face it together."

Noah nodded slowly, the complexity of their bond deepening in the shadow of this unexpected promise.