Chapter 28 — Tea in a Glass House
The sun crept gently into the east garden, stretching golden light across the neatly trimmed hedges and white gravel paths. Aria walked slowly, her hands tucked into the sleeves of her soft sweater,the cool morning air bit gently at her skin, but she didn't mind and she hadn't slept well,not after facing Lucien's parents and seeing the way Francesca's eyes saw through everything including her fear.
Lucien had offered to leave early that morning, to put distance between her and whatever judgment still lingered in the air.She'd told him no because walking away now would mean she wasn't strong enough to stay and Aria Monroe refused to be forgettable,at least not anymore.
She found Francesca Moretti in the glass conservatory, seated alone at a small wrought iron table surrounded by blooming white orchids. The matriarch wore a black silk robe with a matching shawl, her silver hair pinned up, a porcelain teacup held delicately in one hand like it might shatter if handled by someone less refined.There were no guards or treats but just a single waiting silence.
Francesca didn't look up when Aria entered.
She simply gestured to the second chair across from her."Sit."It wasn't a question and Aria obeyed.
"I was your age when I married Dante," Francesca said quietly, pouring a second cup of tea without asking if Aria wanted it. "They told me I was lucky,that being chosen by a Moretti meant security. Power. Legacy."
She stirred gently. "They didn't tell me I would lose my name, my softness, or that I'd bury three people by the time I was thirty and never be allowed to cry about it."
Aria's throat tightened. "I'm sorry."
"Don't be." Francesca finally looked up. "We don't apologize for surviving."
Aria swallowed. "I didn't mean to deceive you. My father,he forced me."
Francesca's eyes didn't flinch. "Of course he did. Monroe men have always chosen convenience over courage."That hurt more than it should have but Aria didn't argue.
Instead, she said, "You think I'm weak."
Francesca took a sip of her tea."I think you're untested."
Aria sat straighter. "And now?"
Francesca set her cup down, finally holding Aria's gaze with the full weight of her scrutiny.
"I think my son has fire in him again and I wonder why it started burning the day he kissed a girl with the wrong name."
The silence stretched and Aria didn't know what to say to that.
Francesca looked out the window, voice softer now.
"I loved my son's indifference. It meant he couldn't be manipulated. But love… real love…" She trailed off. "It's dangerous in our world, It makes you bleed when you shouldn't."
Aria spoke quietly. "I'd bleed for him."
Francesca didn't smile but something in her eyes warmed.
"That may be the first honest thing you've said."
After their talk,Aria excused herself and stood to leave but before she turned, Francesca added one last thing.
"My husband thinks loyalty is earned with blood. But I've always believed it's earned through truth. You want my trust, Aria?"
"Yes."
"Then be honest with him even when it hurts especially when it hurts."
Aria nodded.
Francesca lifted her tea again.
"You may go."and just like that, Aria walked back into the garden, the morning light a little softer, the weight on her shoulders just a bit lighter.
She hadn't won Francesca Moretti over but she had been seen and in this family and that meant everything.