I stood at the top of the staircase that morning, one hand resting on the banister, the other pressed lightly to my stomach. The house was already alive below me. Voices. Footsteps. The soft clink of porcelain.I used to walk down and the room would be still.Not out of respect.Out of awareness.But now..“Tessa, the flowers have arrived.”“Tessa, the driver is ready.”“Tessa, should we move the luncheon to the east dining room?”Her name floated freely like air. Accepted.I walked down slowly, each step careful. My body feels heavier these days, not visibly, but internally. The staff gathered near the entryway.And Tessa stood in the center of them.She was dressed in pale blue, tailored, effortless. A tablet in her hand. Her posture was straight, calm, and authoritative. She didn’t raise her voice. She didn’t need to.“Yes,” she said. “Place the flowers in the main hall. Lucien prefers symmetry.”Lucien prefers.Not Ophelia prefers.Not the house usually does.Lucien.One of the m
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