"What do you mean you're not getting married?" his mother exclaimed, her voice sharp with disbelief.
Erion winced. He'd expected this, but it still hit harder than he thought. He should've warned them.
Beside him, Evah smiled awkwardly, unsure where to look.
"We're not," Erion said plainly. "She's here for protection."
"But you know the only reason you'd bring a girl home is if you were marrying her," his father added, quieter, but resolute.
Erion sipped his coffee. "I have the Major General's permission. Don't worry."
There were only four of them at the table, but it felt like a full reunion—one she didn't belong to.
"You've been gone for years and now show up like this?" his mother pressed, frustration rising.
This is just like one of those dramas, Evah thought. Rich people problems.
His father said nothing, but his disappointment was etched into every line of his face.
"No one outside this family can know why she's here," Erion said, his tone steady. "If pretending she's my fiancée keeps her safe, then so be it."
His mother sighed, softer now. "You'll break their hearts."
Evah's chest tightened. They had been nothing but kind to her, and now she was the stranger ruining their expectations.
She stood slightly and bowed. "I'm sorry for the trouble."
But the woman was already beside her, a warm hand on her back. "Oh no, dear. It's not your fault."
"Evallithyia, right? You're safe here. That's what matters," she said gently.
"We should eat," his father finally muttered. "Food's getting cold."
From a distance, they could've been any family. But Evah knew better.
This, she thought, this is what real luxury feels like.
Breakfast continued, and Evah tried to make herself smaller, hoping not to draw attention. In this country, Erion had told her, skipping a meal together was considered rude.
For a while, the clinking of cutlery was the only sound. The atmosphere wasn't as suffocating as she feared. They're... less intimidating than I imagined, she thought.
"That reminds me, make sure to attend the welcome at the plaza this tonight ," his father said, looking at Erion.
"They've prepared a lot," he added.
Erion nodded. "Of course."
"You should come too, hija," Mrs. Mcquide said brightly, before glancing at Erion to confirm the invitation's meaning.
He nodded. "You'll like it. People here are kind."
Through the glass, a few house staff watched them from the greenhouse. Erion turned and waved casually.
"Exactly! You'll love it here," Mrs. Mcquide beamed. "I have a dress that'll suit you. Trust me."
Evah bowed slightly. It was an unspoken language between women—I've got you.
"Ma, don't get too excited. She's not a dress-up doll," Erion cut in, catching on quickly.
His mother chuckled, hand to her cheek. "I always wanted a daughter, and you brought one home. Let me enjoy it." She looked at Evah with a soft, amused smile.
Erion sighed, leaning back in his chair. "She'll sit separately, though. We still need to limit exposure."
"Invite the Major General too," his father added, lifting his cup.
Erion disappeared after breakfast. As usual, busy with something else. He always is.
Still, the estate was bustling, and there was plenty to keep her distracted. Maybe she was good at pretending nothing bothered her.
Silas, her ever-present shadow, never left her side. With his snow-white hair and carved-stone face, he looked more like a ghost than a butler. I don't think he likes me.
She had offered to help in the kitchen, but they had politely refused. So she ended up perched on the counter, gossiping with Luna and Nova—the twin girls, younger by three years.
Luna, straight-haired and serene, was Miko's mother—the child from the greenhouse. Nova, bolder, had curls and a deeper complexion.
They filled the air with chatter.
"Silas, our father used to be the gardener," Nova said, handing Evah a snack. "He worked so hard he became head of all staff."
"He raised Lord Erion, pretty much," Luna added while stirring a pot.
The Mcquides were rarely home themselves, always handling trade affairs across the land. Like rulers of small kingdoms, Evah mused.
"I didn't know Ar'sia was so different," Evah said.
"Different?" Nova blinked. "I think it's the best system."
Evah nodded. Outside, corruption ruled in many places. Ar'sia was... functional.
A shadow fell across the doorway, stilling the room. Silas.
"The Lord said dinner won't be necessary. We'll attend the plaza event. Dress well." His eyes landed on Evah. Cold. Measuring.
Why does he always look like I stole something?
"Be respectful. She's Lord Erion's fiancée," he warned the twin girls. But his eyes stayed locked on Evah.
Then why does it feel like the warning was for me?