The charred blue of the sky created an attractive evening that filled his broad chests with a sense of comfort and pleasure, which delighted his heart, which trembled as he left the house after spending an unexpectedly perfect day with its residents.
Harold turned to face Wendy, who settled on the doorstep, looking at him with a charming smile, the breeze playing with her loose hair, which had loosened from its grip, giving her a softer look. A stunning feminine look that enchanted him.
"It was a great day. I had fun." He began to express. He smiled kindly, shortening their steps to look at her chocolate-like bodies, shining with the delight of an eye that translated the tranquility that embraced her soul as she nodded lightly. "So do we."
"Thank you for dinner."
"Thank you for the flowers."
He was stalling, and she was responding. Maybe he hadn't played that day. He hadn't flirted with the hem of a woman's dress that ran past him, nor had he drunk himself into a stupor. But he had had a warm, family day that awakened a feeling inside him he had almost forgotten what it was.
He was lost in the depths of their matching gazes for a few moments, broken up by Charlie's short shadow, which settled beside her mother, who snorted with embarrassment, and Harold leaning in with a mischievous smile. "It was so good to meet you again, Mr. Marchiel."
Charlie smiled at Harold's caressing touch to his head, looking up eagerly with his innocent eyes. "Will you be bringing the birds with you next time?"
"Only if your beautiful mother invites me to dinner again sometime soon." Harold moved his glowing pupils to glare between the piercing eyes of Wendy, who, as he had expected, didn't reproach him for flirting in front of her child, but smiled brightly.
"You're always welcome here, Mr. Sigrid."
He was glad that the thin thread she had woven between them was gone. He was glad that he was now a step closer to her and had almost shattered the crystal layer she had enveloped herself in.
"I should go now."
Charlie waved goodbye to him, and Harold raised his hat to them before turning onto the road, keeping his sincere smile on his face, feeling the fruits taking root in the ruins of his heart, ripening from moment to moment like a fetus in the womb, growing gently.
It was a strange evening that passed over foggy London. An evening that embraced within it many conflicting feelings, and in its sky echoed silent words whose voices died in a heart that was overwhelmed by them. A heart that wandered with longing, and two hearts that nested with passion.
It was a strange evening that passed over the hearts of dreaming London
Like a thread of silk, the sky wove its clouds in a beautiful loom, painting a cheerful picture that buried within it the hours of a bygone afternoon, leaving behind a hidden confusion of ancient spirits. Lady Elizabeth Leighrent lifted her woolen scarf around her shoulder after dignifiedly tucking her gray hair behind her head.
She looked at her room clock to see the hands almost stinging 5:00 PM, where her anticipated appointment on bleeding embers with the mysterious lady of the Palom family was. She was suspicious of the meeting, but more nervous about the rumors that someone had seen her entering her home.
Perhaps her desire for this imaginary meeting was to give her one last chance before she formed her final decision for the sake of her grandson, who clung to her like a madman. For the first time in her life, she violated her strict principles and held a tea session with the most wicked and dissolute woman, Siggin Palom
With the first ring of the fifth, the door of the house was knocked on so softly that it made her salivate with excitement. The elderly woman moved uncomfortably, and Oliver rushed to greet the blonde who entered with firm steps in her delicate white dress, accompanied by a confident smile on her lips
Seven knew that this invitation was merely a mock meeting, allowing the bigoted English grandmother to test her and refute every word she said later at real teas and society gossip sessions.
This invitation was merely a glimpse of her.
"Good day, Mrs. Legrent," Seven offered as Oliver led her into the living room. The lady smiled vaguely, which the blonde revealed as she saw her eyes scan her with a furtive examination.
"It is very kind of you to accept my invitation, Mrs. Pallum. Please have a seat." Such formalities and conventional introductions bored Seven. She had never been a fan of women's chatter, nor had she ever been a fan of the necessary formalities.
When the two women faced each other in their seats, their eyes locked in fixed gazes sharpened by many meanings that clashed wildly. The lady tightened her cane firmly and sighed
"Mrs. Palom, I'll be honest with you... I didn't invite you for tea today." She began softly, and Sigin's smile widened with an imperceptible lightness as the older woman knitted her brows earnestly. "I invited you today because my grandson, Louie, told me he'd asked you to marry him."
"That's right." Sigin was emphatic. Oliver left the tea trolley nearby and withdrew abruptly, while the older woman took over, handing the steaming mug to the blonde.
"I won't lie, I didn't approve. As his grandmother and the woman who raised him to be the man he is today, it was within my rights to want him to marry a young girl who had never been married before, and certainly not a widow."
The blonde said nothing more, though she maintained her icy smile .
"But he expressed his great love for you and how he saw you as the woman he could spend his life with, and I could never break his heart, not without some motive."
Sikin's smile shifted for a moment behind her mug as the lady's words echoed in her ears, before she composed herself and looked at her with eyes that melted with seriousness. "Mrs. Legrent, I don't understand. Louie hasn't made a formal request, which makes me think he doesn't mean what he says."
Of course he meant every word he said.
"My grandson doesn't mince words, Mrs. Pallum." Lady Elizabeth's tone suddenly hardened. "He may be a bit poetic, but he means every word he says. He's in love with you, and I can't take that away from him."
"So what do you think, Mrs. Legernet?" Siguin glanced at her thinly. She read in her eyes the contempt and self-compulsion to keep this conversation going... and she was having the most enjoyable moment of her day.
"I hope you understand my position when I say that I still don't agree. As a slightly older woman, I have more life experience than my young grandson... and I can't see in you the woman who will please him."
"What matters is what he sees in me, don't you think?"
The lady clenched her jaw, gagging at her tepid replies. The conversation was taking a sterile turn that abruptly turned as Siguin rose to her feet, pointing at the large painting that gracefully covered the mantelpiece. "This is a beautiful painting. Who is this, Mrs. Legernet?"
"This is William Louis Legernet. Grandfather of Louis the Third."
The blonde succeeded in arousing the lady's interest in the stream, as the second woman stood up with a melancholy look on her face as she advanced to the place of the painting, which was surrounded by a number of smaller paintings of family members
"And this is Joanna, Louie's mother," she acknowledged. Seqin stared at the small painting of a smiling, beaming woman whose artist had excelled at sculpting the relaxed details of her face, which so closely resembled Louie's. "She died only two years after his birth. And yet he inherited her gentle soul."
"She looks beautiful." This time Seqin smiled genuinely. The woman exhaled heavily, as if reburying her feelings in her grave, and turned to meet the blonde with her sharp, narrow eyes. "Tell me, Mrs. Palom. What family is your mother from, the Lady Diana I remember?"
Seqin's features softened for a moment. She settled back into her seat, her voice refined to a quiet, empty tone. "She and my father were family."
"Monogenous marriage, huh?" the lady commented dismissively. "Did you know they say that monogenous marriage can cause madness and some perverted tendencies across generations?"
"Old wives' chatter."
Sigin pursed her lips again with a mischievous smile that provoked the lady, who swallowed her anger with her throat, swallowing her anger with her warm tea reluctantly.
It was as if they were in a verbal war, and the fiercest would survive. "You don't have any children, do you?" As if she had unconsciously hit her target, Sigin's eyes fell into a dark pool, where the lady's last question had stunned her... which had ignited many old wounds.
"No."
"And you didn't even have one?"
Why did she insist on bringing up all her pain so cruelly? Why would anyone take pleasure in seeing the annoyance and hurt clearly in the eyes of others? How barbaric these acts were.
"Is this some kind of investigation?" She gave her a blank stare, and a weak tremor escaped the attention of the woman, whose turn it was to smile monotonously, as she shrugged her shoulders gently. "This is just chatting, from one woman to another. As you know, every man would like a child of his own."
She really won this time.
Siqin was stubborn about showing her annoyance to the woman who was smiling with malicious calm, knowing that what had just happened would soon be the subject of gossip and discussion among the ladies. But this didn't bother her much... she was used to being the talk of the tea sessions.
She was about to get up and end that ridiculous meeting, but with the gentle knock on the door, she stayed where she was, knowing the identity of the caller. She didn't delay, as she heard Louis's voice outside, greeting him in a tired tone.
She could see his shadow, which was about to turn towards the stairs, even though it petrified a few steps away from her retreat, as he stared at her with amazement that overwhelmed his bright eyes, which she was unable to face. All he wanted was to leave.
"Siqin!" He spoke in surprise, which she did not respond to in the face of his grandmother's initiative, whose eyes held a look of reproach, as if she had achieved a goal, which made her shrink briefly. "Won't you welcome our guest, Louis?"
Out of the corner of her eye, which rested on the woman smiling spitefully, she saw him step forward until she felt his fists gently wrap around her hand, kissing it with a hidden warmth that made her shiver like burning coals.
"It's nice to see you here," he whispered to her in a pleased tone, bringing her face so close to Zarqawiya. She smiled at him smirking before getting up from her seat, dissolving his happiness with a puzzled look. "I apologize, but I have to go. Thank you for the invitation, Mrs. Legrent."
She just wanted to disappear for a while. She had barely crossed his spot with firm feet when Mrs. Elizabeth Legrent stopped her in a strong, firm voice. "Don't you want to know my opinion on what we discussed earlier before you leave, Mrs. Palum?"
Was there still poison in her heart that she hadn't yet sprayed? Siggin turned slowly to meet the lady with glassy eyes that contrasted with Louis's gaze, who stood there without understanding. She gently nudged his grandmother's neck and breathed deeply. "Louie, I have decided. I consent to your marriage to Mrs. Seven Palom."
No. She didn't. She was just treating her wound. She stood paralyzed for a few moments, staring at Louis's face, who was surprised, astonished, and delighted. Not believing his grandmother's frank words. He was unarmed among armed men, like someone who would receive bullets without a shield.
"I'm sorry," she said. She tightened her resolve, her eyes stabbing the eyes of the malicious woman who masked her face with dignity, and she shook her head with a flat face. "You asked me if Mr. Lecront had proposed to me, and that was true. But I never said I had accepted."
Perhaps she felt resentful at the disappointed look that had momentarily destroyed any glint of joy in Louis's eyes, and if she had gathered herself again, she would excuse herself to leave, leaving behind the traces of a female fight that had fallen victim to a heart that knew nothing about anything. But she wouldn't have cared for two moments
She heard light footsteps following her, but she didn't hurry or stop, even though she continued walking until he stopped her in the grassy garden of the house with its basil and mint trees. Her solid green eyes clashed with his flashing blue ones, and he took a deep breath.
"Are you still playing this game?"
"I'm not playing any games." He listened stiffly. Before she could take a few steps past him, he stopped her, gently grasping her hand and looking at her stubbornly and insistently. "Can you stop and talk to me, please?"
Sikin exhaled briefly, folding her arms around her chest, letting his hand hover empty in the air. Her patience was burning as he looked at her inquisitively, asking—quietly—"Does this have to do with something my grandmother said?"
"No. It's not about your grandmother," she denied. "Maybe it was only partly about her. I told you before that I used to have men ask me to marry me, but they didn't really want to, and I don't agree to any man asking me like some people think." .
She rolled her eyes sarcastically at the end of her words, and he frowned in despair. "So I'll tell you this one last time. If you really mean what you say and really want to marry me, prove to me that you're not like the others."
"What can I do?" he blurted out. All his few tricks had already been used. He had expressed his feelings to her by all the means he knew, but she still wasn't convinced.
"Use your imagination."
He kissed his lips helplessly in the face of her final smile, before she turned away and continued walking, leaving him to his confused self that was lost for a moment, until his hand clung to hers at the last moment, dissipating the sound of the horseshoes that rose through the neighborhood as he placed his lips between hers with a fervor that made his heart leap
She didn't do anything while his hands rested around her face so he could put everything he felt on that longing path he had longed to walk for so long. He didn't feel her pushing him away, nor did he feel her reciprocate.
She was like an idol.
With the same reaction she had when she saw the publisher Arthur Nicholas kissing her that night. She was submissive, closing her eyes and leaving him free to satisfy whatever desire he wanted. But he wasn't like that publisher... This was like a sacred pact that he didn't make with just any woman. Only her.
When he pulled away seconds later, she was like bliss to him. His eyes lit up her enigmatic emeralds, which looked at him with an indefinable, almost disappointed look as she shook her head at him lightly
"I thought you said you didn't want me the way others do." She left him after her whispered statement. Like a fool, he stood in the middle of the garden, consoled by the almost-raining dusk with its soft colors, feeling how hasty and naive his action had been.
It may have been a poetic act... but not for a woman like Seven Palom .
When he returned inside, shoulders slumped, his grandmother met him at the edge of the office door, her eyes half-smiling, as if she were relieved at what had just happened. "I told you she's not the woman you want to marry. She's suspicious and promiscuous, not to mention a wasteland that won't give us the child we want. She's not the woman, Louis."
He didn't answer her. Her gaze was determined by her desire for an heir and her dislike of the blonde whose rejection had made things so easy for her. He stepped past her into the office, which contained his reverie and gathered his pieces to comprehend how much he'd messed things up for himself and how fed up he was with her.
Night poured down on him uglier, leaving sad tears to strike the absent-minded hearts burning with disturbed embers that left no clear mind. His eyes were focused on the plans and sketches he'd started on earlier, but all he could see was a fog created by his scattered thoughts
He sighed heavily, pushing the drawings aside and replacing them with a blank piece of paper. He stared at them for several absentminded minutes, setting a limit with his ink pen as he wrote his words with great deliberation and solemn selection.
He was no longer enjoying that game.
The scent of jasmine perfume wafted from her body into the room. She felt the river drape her loose dress over her charms, softly enveloped by the fresh air escaping from the open window, giving her a pleasant feeling that delighted her.
Perhaps those were her favorite moments of her ordinary day. The moment she felt the waves of warm water scented with jasmine nectar, forgetting all her worries for a while. And the moment she lay between her bedsheets with the moonlight keeping her dreams company
The straps of the dress tied around her breasts the moment there was a knock at the door, and Melabieh rushed out, delicately tying her hair stems with the blue scarf. Simon entered, ordering the maid to go before holding out a folded piece of paper with her name elegantly written on it .
"The servant of the Legrent house brought this letter. He said it was special from Louis to you." Sigin grasped the letter with a conflicted look and showed it as soon as she raised her head to her brother, who was waiting with vague eyes. "You may go now, Simon."
"Did the meeting today go well?" he asked her in a low tone that pulled her out of her momentary reverie for Touma as she rose from her seat, hiding the dying annoyance that settled in her eyelids. "Yes, leave me now, please. Good night."
Simon kissed his lips and wished her good night before leaving her in a strong breeze that hit her as she lay on her bed, looking at the letter with many mixed feelings... and opened it.
"My dear Seven."
This isn't fun anymore. Expressing my feelings and always being rejected isn't comfortable anymore. I've run out of ways, and my attempts have become pathetic stunts that I can't continue .
I made a mistake... I admit it.
Invading your space and violating what I have no right to without prior permission was an ill-advised move. Like every other man, I've only ever seen you as a permissible woman, and I can assure you
that I didn't think about that for a single moment.
They were right. I'm inexperienced with women. I thought what I did might make you know how much you mean to me, and I didn't consider whether you were happy with it or not. Being a stubborn man who doesn't give in doesn't mean that I
impose feelings on you that you showed your aversion to from the first moment
with your silence.
But I was just oblivious to that.
There is a fine line between love and desire. I wouldn't say that I am in love with you for your face, even though you are the most beautiful person my eyes have ever seen. And I wouldn't say that I was captivated by you in a moment of passion, even though I was frantically in love with you from the first moment
But I loved our little evenings filled with conversations about art and beauty. I loved that you were the first to come to my mind when I needed to talk to someone. You are not just a woman
who fascinated me. You were a unique case that intrigued me.
Today you told me to prove to you that I am not like others. And this is my answer, my beautiful lady. I have nothing but my unreasonable love for you and my limited ways of expressing it. No one can prove that what is in my heart for you is nothing but pure love
that came to me in an unwary hour. This is my answer to you, and this is my last resort to you.
You will always be in my memory and conscience.
With my love and respect for you forever.
Louis Legrent