A week had passed since Eira returned to the White Manor in Paris. The grand halls that once felt distant were now alive again with murmurs, footsteps, and a subtle tension in the air. During that time, Eira had come to know Emma Bloom more closely. Their conversations, once guarded, now flowed freely as they shared meals, discussed plans, and prepared for the inevitable — the return of Elijah White.
Today was the day.
Eira descended the grand staircase, the morning light slipping through the tall windows and casting long streaks across the marble floors. Her steps slowed as she reached the lower level. Lolly had told her earlier that her grandfather had returned in the night and was already in his study.
She paused before the oak door of his office, bracing herself. Then she knocked.
"Come in," came the familiar voice, though it sounded… weaker.
She pushed open the door — and stopped.
Elijah White sat behind his mahogany desk, but he was almost unrecognizable. His once robust frame had withered, the fabric of his robe hanging loosely around shoulders that seemed too narrow. His skin was pale, sunken, and his eyes — sharp as ever — seemed sunken in dark circles.
Eira's heart sank. "Grandfather…?"
Elijah looked up slowly and offered her a faint smile. "Ah, Eira. You're here."
She stepped inside, concern evident on her face. "What happened to you? You look— Grandfather, are you ill?"
He waved a bony hand dismissively. "It's nothing. I've just been… a little unwell, that's all. Nothing serious."
"That's not true," she said, frowning. "You don't look fine. You've lost so much weight."
"We'll speak of it later," Elijah said softly. "Now, tell me—how was school?"
Eira hesitated but let it go. She nodded. "It was good. The year ended well. The grades will be sent to the manor soon… but I'm fairly certain I did well in all of them."
"Good," Elijah said, his voice low but steady. "That's what I expect of the next matriarch of this family. You must always strive higher than the rest."
There was a brief pause before Elijah leaned back slightly and said, "I heard you brought someone."
"Yes," Eira replied. "Her name is Emma Bloom. She… she introduced herself to me a week ago. She said she knew my mother."
Before she could explain further, Elijah raised a hand. "Send her in. I want to speak to her alone."
Eira hesitated, but then nodded. "Of course, Grandfather."
She turned to leave, but just as she reached the door, Elijah added, "Get ready. Tonight, we return to England. To the ancestral manor."
Eira's heart skipped. "Understood."
A few minutes later, Emma entered the study. She was calm and composed, dressed neatly. As she stepped in, she bowed her head.
"It's an honor to meet you, Lord White."
Elijah didn't offer a greeting in return. He studied her, his gaze sharp despite his condition. "Who are you," he asked coldly, "and what do you want from my granddaughter?"
Emma straightened. "My name is Emma Bloom. I am the young miss's assistant and servant."
Elijah's brow furrowed. "Why? What purpose brings you here? I had you investigated. I know your record. Too perfect, if you ask me. Top marks from Ilvermorny. Multiple offers from the American and Russian Ministries. You even turned down the Auror leadership track. And yet, here you are — choosing to serve a girl from a family you claim to know nothing about. Why?"
Emma didn't flinch. "Because I gave my word. I came here to offer my loyalty to Eira, to support her."
Elijah's voice turned sharp. "You expect me to believe that weak story? That you just decided, one fine day, to devote yourself to the heir of a family you've never been part of? Who sent you? What's your real motive?"
Emma took a deep breath. "It was Madame Maria who asked me to help her daughter."
The room fell silent.
Elijah's eyes narrowed. "Maria has been dead for ten years."
"She was the one who sponsored me," Emma said quietly. "I was an orphan when I met her — She was traveling through the United States with your son, Damian, and a friend. They found me , since I was in poor condition she took pity on me and helped me. She paid for everything — my education, my wand, my robes. Every month, she sent galleons."
Elijah leaned forward. "And when exactly did you come to know Maria White, my daughter-in-law?"
"When I was first accepted into Ilvermorny," Emma continued, "I had no means. Maria met me by chance, but she didn't leave me to struggle. She became like a sister helped me through difficult situations and cared for me like a family . Years later, she sent me a letter — it explained everything. That she had a daughter, and that her husband's family… might not accept the child because of how she looked like. She asked that, if anything ever happened she will send her daughter to me to the USA for protection ,the last letter she wrote to me before she died she explained how she wanted to go to her family and wanted me to protect Eira until she finds a better place for herself and Eira to live away from her husband and his family ."
There was silence again.
Elijah's voice dropped. "Then where have you been all these years ? Why did you not come sooner?"
Emma bowed her head. "I visited. Quietly. I checked on Eira whenever I could . But I had… personal matters that kept me from getting too close. Only recently have I been able to resolve them. That's why I'm here now. To repay my debt to Maria White."
Elijah looked at her long and hard. Then, wordlessly, he opened a drawer and took out a small black leather-bound book. He placed it on the desk and opened it, revealing parchment pages filled with runes and symbols.
"This," he said, "is the ancient family contract. It can bound every member and servant of the White family for generations if the lord wants it . So If you sign it, your oath becomes unbreakable. You will serve Eira, protect her, and lay down your life for her if necessary."
Emma didn't hesitate. She stepped forward, took the offered quill, and signed her name. Then, with a small silver blade she pulled from her sleeve, she sliced her finger, letting a drop of blood fall onto the parchment.
The ink shimmered, absorbed into the page. The book closed on its own.
Elijah exhaled, his shoulders relaxing for the first time since she entered. "Now I believe that you truly came for her side to help. I still don't trust your story — it's too neat. But this contract… it does not lie. If your motives were impure, you would be dead already."
Emma gave a small nod. "Thank you for trusting me. Even if just a little."
She turned to go, but then paused. "Are you dying?"
Elijah's hand, mid-motion, stopped.
He looked at her and replied, almost in a whisper, "Yes. I am."
Emma's eyes softened. "Does the young miss know?"
"No," he said, shaking his head. "But she will. Soon. First, she must complete something important."
Emma nodded once, solemnly. "As you wish."
As she stepped out of the study, Elijah's voice followed her. "Tell Eira to be ready. We leave for England tonight."
She didn't answer, only inclined her head.
Upstairs, Eira stood by the tall window of her room, arms crossed, eyes fixed on the Paris skyline. The door creaked open behind her, and she didn't need to turn to know who it was.
"Well?" she asked.
Emma stepped in. "He didn't believe everything, but I told him what we planned. He had me sign the family contract. I am now your sworn protector by the contract of the White family."
Eira turned, a quiet intensity in her gaze. "Good. That's what matters."
Emma stepped closer. "We need to get ready. He said we're going back to England. Tonight."
Eira nodded once. "Then let's not waste time."