Chapter 5: A Welcome Disruption
Lioré Estate, France
That afternoon, the soft hush of the Lioré estate was broken by the sound of heels clicking along the white stone floor—sharp, confident, unmistakable. Vivienne Lioré had arrived, sweeping through the high-arched doors with a breeze of perfume and subtle defiance.
The staff moved quickly, taking her coat and murmuring greetings, but Vivienne barely acknowledged them. Her sharp eyes scanned the room, already seeking the one soul who mattered most in this moment.
In the drawing room, Eva was sitting on the floor with her puzzles and toy blocks spread around her. The sunlight filtered through the glass-paned windows, painting her in gold. She was unusually still, lost in her quiet patterns and mental maps.
Until—
The sound of that voice. "Where is my little moon?"
Eva's head snapped up.
Her eyes widened instantly. Her mouth parted. And for the first time in days, the child moved. Her little body shifted awkwardly, her legs trembling under her as she pushed herself up to her feet. She stumbled once, twice—but her determination was fierce.
"Vivie!" she cried, her voice high and breathy and half-formed, but unmistakably joyful.
She ran, the way only a two-year-old could—off-balance and a little wobbly, but filled with purpose.
Vivienne barely had time to set down her bag before Eva hurled herself into her knees with a force that nearly knocked her off balance.
"My stars," Vivienne said with a startled laugh, bending down to scoop Eva up into her arms. "You've gotten heavier."
Eva clung to her tightly, her small fingers digging into Vivienne's silk blouse. She buried her face into her aunt's shoulder like she'd found home after a long exile. Her body, usually so tense with frustration, simply melted.
"You missed me that much, mon trésor?" (My treasure) Vivienne whispered, brushing her lips over the crown of Eva's head.
Eva nodded vigorously. "Missed."
Behind them, Evelyn stood just at the edge of the foyer. She hadn't known Vivienne was coming today, but the soft smile spreading across her lips said she wasn't surprised. "She's been quieter than usual," Evelyn said gently. "You always bring her back to life."
Vivienne turned to her sister-in-law, eyes gleaming. "That's because I don't treat her like some dainty little porcelain doll. She's more fire than glass."
From the top of the staircase, Reginald appeared, his expression unreadable but clearly less amused. His frown deepened as he watched Eva practically cling to Vivienne, the way she never did with him.
"She doesn't run to me like that," he muttered.
Vivienne didn't miss it. She turned, deliberately, to face him over Eva's head. "Maybe she's learned where she's actually welcome."
Reginald's jaw tightened.
But Eva didn't hear the tension. She was too busy clinging to the one adult in the estate who seemed to get her—the only one whose arms didn't tremble with caution or anxiety every time they touched her. Vivienne had always held her with a kind of fierce ease, as if she weren't afraid of how much weight a child like Eva might carry.
"You've grown, little moon," Vivienne murmured, smoothing her hand over Eva's dark curls. "And you look like you've been trying to figure out how to break out of this place."
Eva whispered something into her aunt's shoulder. It wasn't clear, but Vivienne's face softened instantly.
"I know," she said, rocking her gently. "It's too quiet here without me, isn't it?"
Evelyn chuckled under her breath. "That's not what she said, Vivienne."
Vivienne ignored her. "Well, I'm here now. I'll stay the evening. Maybe I'll stir things up, get her laughing again."
Reginald cleared his throat. "We were having a peaceful day, actually."
"Exactly," Vivienne said with a smirk. "Can't have that."
Eva let out the faintest, breathiest laugh. It was barely audible, but to Vivienne, it was more precious than gold.
She kissed the top of Eva's head again. "Come on, mon trésor (My treasure). Let's go wreck something in the garden."