Chapter 115: The Art of Play and Promise
The Langford estate's sun - dappled courtyard had transformed into a miniature fencing arena that morning, with the soft rustle of leaves and the faint warble of larks playing chorus to the clash of foils. Eva stood poised and proud, her tiny frame hidden beneath a pristine white fencing uniform stitched especially for her, the initials E.A. embroidered over her heart. Her mask sat slightly askew atop her head, and strands of dark hair peeked from beneath it, curling softly at the nape of her neck. She brandished her foil with dramatic flair, chin raised, eyes shining.
Across from her, Seraphina held her own foil with elegance, dressed in her fencing gear — less ceremonial, more seasoned — her golden hair tied back in a neat braid. She tilted her head slightly, amusement dancing in her eyes. She had spent years in the salle; every movement she made was fluid, instinctive. But she never let the ease show too much. Not when Eva was watching. Not when Eva had trained so hard this week just to "duel my Ina like a knight does her moon."
"En garde!" Eva called out, raising her foil with exaggerated grace. The sound was muffled slightly by her mask, but the command carried weight in her voice, as if she were preparing to defend a great kingdom.
Seraphina smiled. "At your service, milady," she replied, raising her foil with a gallant bow.
The bout began with a burst of motion — Eva lunging, stepping, retreating, then advancing again with the precision of a little girl fueled by determination and just enough fencing knowledge to be dangerous to stray rose bushes. Seraphina parried lightly, meeting her at each turn with gentle corrections woven into their movements, guiding rather than overpowering.
Clink. Swish. Step.
Eva spun dramatically, missing her footing, and landed with a theatrical flop onto the manicured grass, her mask tumbling off to reveal her flushed cheeks and glittering eyes. She stayed sprawled for a moment, catching her breath, arms thrown wide.
"I concede defeat!" she gasped, as if she had just survived a most epic duel. "My Yue, my Ina, you have vanquished me! And for your triumph…" She held up a single finger and wagged it at Seraphina, her pout blooming like a rose. "As a reward, I shall bestow upon you — eleven kisses."
Seraphina knelt beside her, smiling with that soft fondness she reserved only for Eva. "Eleven, hm? That's quite the generous offering."
"They're sacred," Eva replied solemnly. "Eleven is one more than ten, which is already perfect. So this means — extra perfect. These are kisses of honor and sorrow and forever."
She rose up onto her knees and cupped Seraphina's cheeks in her small hands, peppering her with light butterfly kisses. One to each cheek, one on her forehead, three on her nose ("because it's cute"), and a cascade of them — delicate and dreamy — on Seraphina's lips. "These are butterfly kisses from my soul," she whispered dramatically, sitting on Seraphina's lap and curling her arms around her neck. "For the one who beat me but didn't break me."
Seraphina held her close, smoothing back her hair. "You're very brave, my little knight."
"I'm also your little poet and your little bride and your little burrito," Eva mumbled into her neck, giggling. "I'm everything."
Later that afternoon, they moved to the garden for a playdate set among cushions and paper lanterns strung between the fig trees. Mère — Aunt Vivi had brought out lemonade in glass pitchers with sliced strawberries and mint leaves, Eva now entirely smitten with Seraphina — had her phone at the ready to record every glittering second.
Eva had insisted on wearing a pink sunhat with her fencing medal pinned to it and marched around the garden like a visiting dignitary. Seraphina followed, barefoot and laughing, trailing streamers from her fingers that Eva declared were "ribbons of victory and joy."
They danced to the rhythm of cicadas and the murmur of distant wind chimes, Eva pulling Seraphina by the hand and commanding her to "spin me like the sun does the moon," which Seraphina did — slow and sure, until Eva collapsed into her arms, breathless and delighted.
"You make everything real," Eva whispered.
The following morning was the long - awaited visit to Seraphina's school. Eva, clad in her best blue pinafore and white socks with bows, sat in the backseat of the car with a small velvet box tucked carefully into her lap. Her heart beat with excitement and pride — her Ina was going to play piano on stage in front of everyone. She would shine, and Eva would be there, clapping louder than the stars.
Seraphina met her at the gate and took her by the hand. "Nervous?" she asked with a smile.
"No," Eva said, chin up. "Because you're my Ina and you're brilliant. I'm only nervous they might faint from your glory."
They walked the halls together, students passing them by, heads turning at the sight of Seraphina and the small, solemn girl beside her who clung tightly to her hand. Eva stared at the posters on the walls, the rows of lockers, the glimpses of other classrooms. "So this is where your thoughts live when you're not with me," she murmured.
When it was time for the performance, the lights dimmed in the music hall. The grand piano stood at the center of the stage, and Seraphina approached it with poise that belonged more to a young concert pianist than a student. As her fingers touched the keys and the first notes filled the air, Eva sat perched on the edge of her seat, breath held tight in her chest.
The music rose and fell like a tide, like a secret carried across time. Seraphina played not just with skill but with soul, and Eva felt each note sink into her like a thread weaving a new tapestry in her heart. She looked to Mére — Aunt Vivi, who was already filming, whispering softly, "Don't miss a second."
When the applause finally came, Eva rushed backstage, breathless with admiration.
"My Yue, My Ina, My Seraphina," she said, catching her hand, "you were the whole sky."
Seraphina smiled and reached for a towel, dabbing the slight sweat from her brow. "You're my favorite audience."
"I brought something." Eva carefully opened the small velvet box she had been guarding all day. Nestled inside was a bracelet of her own design: a slender chain of gold that shimmered in the light, adorned with a dove, its wings extended in flight. Tiny rubies formed a radiant sun, and emeralds shaped a crescent moon that cradled the bird mid-sky.
Seraphina stared, moved beyond words.
"I made it for you," Eva whispered. "The dove is peace, the sun and moon are us. It's one of a kind. Like you."
With quiet reverence, Seraphina slipped it onto her wrist. The gold gleamed against her skin. "I'll never take it off," she said.
Eva beamed. "Good. Because I'm not finished loving you yet. Not even close."
Their days following the visit were filled with moments as delicate as spun sugar. In the garden, Eva would braid daisies into Seraphina's hair while reciting lines from her poems. Indoors, they curled up together on the window seat, watching the rain draw poetry on the glass.
Seraphina helped Eva tune her violin again, and they played simple duets — Eva fumbling over the notes with stubborn charm, while Seraphina smiled and adjusted her posture, whispering, "Try again, little dove."
Every evening, they counted their days like stars.
"Today was a ruby day," Eva would declare, wrapping her arms around Seraphina as they sat by the fireplace, sipping hot milk. "Bright, brave, and lucky."
"And tomorrow?" Seraphina asked.
"Tomorrow is emerald. It means something is going to happen that we'll keep forever."
Seraphina kissed her on the forehead. "Then let's keep it together."
Eva curled in closer. "Forever and a kiss. Eleven, if you're lucky."