Chapter 159: The Moonbeam's Indulgence
Morning light spilled like honey through the tall windows of the Maison de Corcelle, pooling across the marble floor with the lazy elegance of a day that knew it belonged to them. The breakfast table was set with silver trays of warm croissants, delicate porcelain dishes of fruit, and an absurdly perfect tower of whipped butter, as if P•••• itself had conspired to impress Evangeline Claire Ainsley.
Eva, wrapped in a pale lavender dress with scalloped lace and tiny covered buttons, sat with the calm of someone who already owned the world and had decided to enjoy it slowly. Her hair was swept up with a pearlescent clip in the shape of a crescent moon.
Across the table, Seraphina stirred her tea. She wore a navy blouse tucked into a cream pleated skirt, her posture effortlessly impeccable, her eyes quietly amused. It wasn't the kind of morning either of them would forget.
Evelyn raised a brow as she buttered her toast. "So. Our moonbeam is hitting the shops today? Unsupervised again?"
Vivienne smirked. "She's bringing her Seraphina. That's supervision enough — or complicity."
Eva didn't even blink. "We have matching cards now."
Briony strolled in, still tying her silk hair scarf. "The black cards?" She whistled low. "This from the girl who once explained subatomic decay to me with a crayon and a croissant."
"I still can," Eva replied sweetly. "But I'd rather pick out a coat that makes Seraphina blush."
Evelyn leaned back with her coffee, clearly enjoying the show. "You're hopeless."
"Hopelessly elegant," Vivienne added.
"Hopelessly in love," Briony stage - whispered, and Eva's ears flushed immediately.
"I'm not!" Eva protested, though she was already hiding her grin behind a slice of brioche. "I'm just… thorough."
"Thorough," Seraphina echoed with a teasing lilt, brushing a stray curl from Eva's temple. "I see."
Jacques was already waiting by the entrance with the vintage Rolls - Royce. Marie, discreet and efficient as ever, held the door open in her charcoal - gray uniform.
On the ride into P••••, Eva sat forward, clutching her new card — matte black with gold lettering. "They gave us a shared allowance," she said matter - of - factly. "Separate from the household ones."
Seraphina's brows lifted. "They did?"
"Maman said, 'Consider it emotional support spending.'" Eva tilted her head. "She knows I like spoiling you."
Seraphina turned toward the window with a smile. "And here I thought you were the one being spoiled."
They began at one of P••••'s most exclusive boutiques, its entryway guarded by polished brass and staff with perfect posture. As they stepped inside, a well - dressed saleswoman blinked at them, noting the lack of parents.
"Do you have an appointment?" she asked, in a tone reserved for Very Small Heiresses and their Very Questionable Chaperones.
Eva barely hesitated. "Non. It's just me… and my moon."
Seraphina almost choked trying not to laugh.
Marie leaned in, whispered something, and everything changed. The saleswoman nodded quickly and bowed her head slightly, as though remembering something important — or someone powerful.
The boutique opened up like a private kingdom. Eva zipped from mannequin to rack, pulling emeralds, silks, even an absurdly delicate blazer that Seraphina insisted no twelve - year - old should be wearing.
"You'd look like a magazine cover," Eva said solemnly. "Or an investment."
"You're describing a hedge fund," Seraphina replied.
Eva blinked. "Am I wrong?"
From there, they strolled arm - in - arm through Saint - Germain, making pit stops at a rare bookstore where Eva stacked texts on goddesses and obscure mythology — Aphrodite, Athena, Aria, Harmonia, Vaethea. She added two F••••• philosophy books and a university - level economics text just for balance.
Next came pastries: pistachio cream éclairs and sugared fruit tarts at a hidden patisserie Seraphina remembered from a childhood summer. Eva leaned into her side, brushing sugar from her own lip with the back of her hand. "Don't let Briony see. She'll say I'm being sweet on purpose."
Seraphina glanced down. "Aren't you?"
Eva shrugged. "Only for you."
Then: the music shop. Old and quiet, smelling of varnish and smooth. And in the center — a harp. Not just a harp. An instrument encrusted with diamonds, carved like a sculpture, glowing faintly under a glass dome.
Seraphina narrowed her eyes. "Eva."
"It's calling to me," Eva said.
"You've never played harp in your life."
"I'll learn."
"It's priced like a small nation."
Eva walked closer, fingers barely brushing the strings. "But it sounds like you."
Seraphina blinked. "Excuse me?"
Eva turned around, deadly serious. "It sounds like you if you were music. You shimmer, but quietly."
Seraphina took a slow breath, then shook her head, laughing under it. "You're unbelievable."
Later, while Seraphina browsed leather - bound scores, Eva slipped away to finalize her secret purchases.
For Seraphina: a custom - made silver locket, hand - painted with a tiny moonlit portrait of the two of them — Eva's cheek pressed to Seraphina's shoulder, the sky behind them filled with constellations.
For her maman: a rare F••••• perfume made from alpine violets and dried plum skin.
For Aunt Vivienne: an Art Deco brooch shaped like a fox.
For Briony: a signed first edition of A Brief Eternity.
And for her papa: a 1940s Cartier watch with an engraving only he would understand.
When they returned to the Maison de Corcelle, arms full of boxes and ribbons and dusted sugar, the evening light had just begun turning the windows pink.
Briony met them at the door, took one look at the packages, and whistled. "So how much did you two lovers spend?"
"We're not lovers," Eva grumbled.
Briony gave Seraphina a slow look. "Could've fooled me."
Vivienne peeked out from the sitting room. "Tell me she didn't buy the harp."
"She really did," Seraphina muttered.
Evelyn's voice floated from the next room. "Of course she did. She's her mother's daughter."
Eva tried to protest but was immediately swarmed by all three.
"She probably recited a sonnet to justify it," Briony said, pinching her cheek.
"She definitely made someone cry," Vivienne added, ruffling her hair.
"And Seraphina let her," Evelyn said, pointing a perfectly manicured finger. "As usual."
Eva, flustered but smiling, fled upstairs, dragging Seraphina behind her with the urgency of someone escaping a war crime — specifically, adult teasing.
She threw open the doors to her suite, letting the sunlight flood in behind them, and turned dramatically once they were inside. "You could've defended me."
Seraphina closed the door with a soft click and leaned against it, unbothered. "I could've," she said calmly, beginning to unwrap the pale silk scarf from one of the bags. "But then I wouldn't get to watch you pout like that."
"I'm not pouting," Eva pouted.
Seraphina raised a brow.
Eva crossed her arms, still absolutely pouting. "It's cruel. They're vultures."
"They're amused," Seraphina corrected. "At how helpless you are around me."
Eva's eyes narrowed. "I'm not helpless. I'm strategic."
"Oh?" Seraphina walked closer.
Eva climbed onto the edge of her bed, then promptly shifted into Seraphina's lap with practiced familiarity, her arms circling Seraphina's neck as if it were the most natural throne in the world. "Fine," she murmured. "If you're going to betray me to my tormentors, you have to make it up to me."
Seraphina tilted her head. "Make it up to you how?"
Eva gestured imperiously. "Kisses."
"Demanding, aren't we?"
"Kisses everywhere," Eva clarified, eyes deadly serious. "Forehead. Cheeks. And definitely my lips. That's non - negotiable."
Seraphina's mouth twitched. "You're insufferable."
"I'm adorable," Eva corrected, tilting her chin up, lips already pursed. "And suffering."
Seraphina sighed like someone who had just been handed a velvet - covered burden. "Very well, Lady Moonbeam."
She pressed a kiss to Eva's temple first, lingering just long enough to make her sigh dramatically. Then her cheek — once, twice — until Eva was giggling against her. When Seraphina finally leaned in and gave her a soft, teasing kiss right on the lips, Eva melted immediately into her arms like a dropped macaron.
"Mmm," Eva hummed dreamily. "That's better."
"Are you appeased now, or should I alert the court that reparations are ongoing?"
"Still suffering," Eva murmured, resting her head against Seraphina's shoulder now. "You bruised my heart."
"Oh no," Seraphina said solemnly, brushing her fingers down Eva's spine. "Should I apply another remedy?"
Eva nodded sleepily, already curling into her like a cat. "Mmhmm. Hold me tighter."
Seraphina obeyed, wrapping her arms more snugly around her, one hand stroking gently through Eva's fine hair. The lavender scent of her dress mingled with the faint sugar of pastries, and everything felt still and warm.
"I like shopping," Eva mumbled against her neck.
"You like being spoiled."
"I like you," she corrected, a little drowsier now. "You're warm."
"You're heavy."
Eva made a tiny noise of protest, then shifted just enough to get comfortable again. "That's your fault. You have a perfect lap."
"Do you compliment all your furniture?"
Eva didn't reply. Her breathing was already slowing, her fingers still curled loosely at Seraphina's collar.
Seraphina smiled softly and glanced down.
"I knew you'd fall asleep."
"M'not," Eva muttered, barely audible.
But she was. Hugging her moon. Dreaming sugar and diamond harps.
Seraphina didn't move.
She just stayed like that — the moonbeam's throne, and her quiet cradle — letting the moment last as long as it dared.