Page 93 of A Sunwoven Ascent

The sudden embrace nearly unraveled her. Emotion caught in her throat, leaving her struggling to form even the simplest reply.

“Look at you, my lady,” Seraphine said, her voice softening with pride. “You’ve grown so much…”

Her eyes widened further as she looked past Evelyne.

“Lady Aurelia! Lord Cillian! Welcome home!”

She rushed forward to embrace them both in turn before clapping her hands together in excitement.

“We’ll have tea prepared and baths drawn immediately for all of you.”

Despite all they had endured, Seraphine’s radiant smile was impossible not to return.

Seraphine’s gaze shifted to Kaldrek, and a curious brow lifted as he dipped his head politely in greeting.

“Well now,” she said, tilting her head with interest. “And who might this handsome gentleman be?” Her teasing eyes flicked toward Evelyne. “A friend of yours, perhaps?”

Evelyne laughed softly, the sound easing some of the tightness in her chest. “I missed you, Seraphine.”

“Of course you did,” Seraphine replied briskly, planting her hands firmly on her hips. “Now come along, all of you. Inside with you.” She gestured toward the open doors of the manor. “We have quite a bit of catching up to do—and your poor mother has been running herself absolutely ragged these past weeks.”

Everything was… exactly the same. Life inside the manor moved on as it always had. Servants polished the floors with steady strokes, while the faint clinking of glasses and dishes drifted from the kitchens down the hall. The familiar scent of flowers and warm spices lingered throughout the foyer, welcoming in a way that felt almost surreal. Not a single face showed fear. Not a trace of distress. No one here had any idea of the horrors Evelyne and the others had faced over the past months.

Part of her was relieved knowing her loved ones had remained safe and untouched by it all. Yet another part of her felt something far more troubling—frustration. No one in the southern lands truly understood what lurked beyond their borders. And worse still… no one here was prepared for what might come.

Seraphine ushered them into the sitting room and encouraged them to sit while she went to fetch Lady Celeste. And the moment the door closed behind her, Evelyne’s nerves surged all at once. The truth. What she and Cillian had to reveal. What Evelyne herself would have to explain.

Cillian reached for her hand, his fingers resting gently over hers in quiet reassurance. He understood. He felt the same weight she did.

Aurelia wandered toward the pianoforte, her fingers gliding lightly across the keys as though the instrument itself had beckoned her closer. Cillian settled into the armchair beside the pale blue couch where Evelyne and Kaldrek now sat. It was the couch their mother had always favored in the early mornings, when she would read quietly while breakfast was served nearby.

A single note sounded. Then another.

Soon a gentle melody filled the room as Aurelia gave in to the familiar comfort of the music.

But the tune faltered suddenly and the notes cut off mid-phrase.

Evelyne lifted her head toward the staircase, where their mother was descending. Lady Celeste moved slowly, one hand resting lightly along the polished railing. She wore her morning silk robes, though breakfast had ended more than an hour ago. By now she was usually dressed in one of her formal day gowns, her hair pinned neatly beneath a net.

Today was different.

Her hair fell freely over her shoulders, only loosely brushed back. There was no hair net, and her cosmetics were minimal—so subtle they barely dulled the sharp elegance of her features. It was not like her at all. And yet her expression remained unchanged. The same stern composure. The same poised authority she always carried.

“My boy…” Lady Celeste’s eyes settled on Cillian as she descended the final steps. “Good heavens… you look so very much like your father.”

Cillian rose at once and stepped forward to greet her. She gathered him into her arms, clutching him tightly as though afraid he might vanish again. To Evelyne’s astonishment, her mother wept openly against his shoulder. Evelyne had never seen such a display of emotion from her.

“You are safe,” Lady Celeste whispered, almost to herself. “You are truly safe… are you not?”

“Yes, Mother,” Cillian replied. “I am quite well—thanks entirely to Evelyne.” He gestured toward her.

Lady Celeste drew a steadying breath and lightly tapped her cheeks, regaining her composure. When her eyes turned to Evelyne, they widened as she fully took her in. Evelyne shifted uncomfortably beneath the scrutiny but rose to her feet. Tears burned at the edges of her eyes as the truth settled in her chest—her mother was alive.

Safe.

Still here.

“You brought him home,” Lady Celeste murmured, lifting Evelyne’s chin to meet her gaze.