The morning sun filtered softly through the tall windows of the east wing, where the air held a faint scent of lavender and polished wood. Liora stood quietly near the doorway of the drawing room, watching Lady Amalia arrange delicate china cups on a small table. The quiet clicking of fine porcelain contrasted with the lingering awkwardness in Liora's chest.
"It's just tea," Amalia said kindly, noticing Liora's hesitation. "Nothing to fear. Come, sit."
Liora stepped forward, her worn shoes making soft thuds on the polished floor. She glanced down at her own threadbare dress, feeling suddenly very aware of how different she was from the silks and brocades she saw folded neatly on the shelves.
The children gathered too, Annalise with her sharp eyes and quick smile, Leopold clutching a carved wooden sword, Mathilde bouncing excitedly, and little Elias toddling after his nursemaid.
Amalia poured the tea with graceful, practiced hands. "Here," she said, offering Liora a cup. "Don't worry about the etiquette yet. Just sip and breathe."
Liora took the cup, its warmth surprising after the chill of dawn. She tried to lift it carefully but ended up nearly tipping the tea. Annalise caught the moment and giggled softly.
"That's not how you hold a cup," she said, perching beside Liora. "Like this."
She demonstrated, pinky finger raised daintily, then lowered it again with a grin. "I'm still learning myself."
Michael stood a little apart, watching. His dark eyes softened as they landed on Liora. He frowned slightly when Annalise teased, but he didn't interrupt.
Amalia smiled, pouring more tea for herself. "Patience is a lesson we all relearn every day," she said gently. "Manners are not just for show, they're for respect. Respect for others and for ourselves."
Liora looked down into her cup, feeling the strange mix of warmth and nervousness swirl inside her. "I... I didn't have many manners where I'm from," she said quietly.
Amalia's gaze softened. "Most of us don't, at first. We grow into them. It's not about perfection, it's about intention."
Michael shifted closer, still silent but near enough that Liora could sense his presence as something steady and unshakable.
Annalise nudged Liora playfully. "You're lucky Lady Amalia's patient. I'm not always."
Liora smiled shyly, grateful for the moment of lightness.
Later, when the children had slipped away to play, Amalia leaned closer. "I lost someone very dear once," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper.
Liora looked up, surprised. "I... I lost my sister."
Amalia nodded slowly. "Loss is a heavy burden, but it can also be a bond. You carry her with you, and so do we."
Liora's throat tightened. "I'm scared I'll never belong anywhere."
Amalia reached out, her hand warm on Liora's. "Belonging isn't given, it's built. With trust, patience, and love. And you, Liora, have all three."
Outside, the children's laughter floated in, bright and careless. Michael stood just beyond the doorway, watching Liora with something almost like hope.
As the morning stretched into afternoon, Liora felt the first fragile roots of something new, family, maybe, or the beginning of a home
The children had wandered off to the garden to chase butterflies and play hide-and-seek, leaving the room quieter except for the faint ticking of a clock on the wall.
Michael lingered by the doorway, his hands tucked into the pockets of his trousers. He glanced toward Liora, who sat quietly sipping her tea, eyes downcast.
He cleared his throat softly. "You don't have to pretend you understand this place," he said.
Liora looked up, surprised by the sudden voice. "Pretend?"
Michael stepped inside and pulled out a chair beside her. "I see it. The way you watch, like you don't belong. Like you're waiting for someone to tell you to leave."
Liora bit her lip, unsure how to answer. "Maybe I am."
He shook his head, a small, almost sad smile crossing his lips. "You're not. Not here. Not with us."
She studied him, his serious face, the way his eyes softened just for a moment. "Why do you care?"
Michael shrugged but didn't move away. "Because… you made her smile." He nodded toward the other room where Amalia was speaking with a servant. "She hasn't done that in a long time."
"I didn't do anything special," Liora said softly.
He laughed, a low sound that didn't quite reach his eyes. "You did. You remind her of something she lost."
Liora's fingers clenched around the teacup. "I've lost so much," she whispered.
Michael's gaze darkened, his voice gentle. "So have I. And I don't think I'm the only one."
She looked at him, curious now. "What do you mean?"
Michael sighed, leaning back slightly. "It's not easy to be the eldest. Everyone expects me to be strong, to lead. But sometimes... I feel like I'm just pretending."
"Pretending?" Liora echoed.
He nodded. "Pretending to be someone I'm not. Like when I took the blame for Annalise shattering the window over there."
Liora's eyes widened. "Why would you do that?"
"Because family is more important than pride," he said, voice low. "And because I didn't want her to be in trouble."
"That's... very kind," Liora said, surprised.
Michael shrugged again, his usual guarded expression softening. "Maybe. Or maybe I'm just afraid of losing her too."
They sat in silence for a moment, the air between them lighter now.
Liora found the courage to ask, "Do you ever wish things were different? That you didn't have to be the eldest?"
He smiled faintly, then shook his head. "No. I want to protect this family. Even if it's hard. Even if it means sacrificing what I want."
She nodded slowly, understanding more than she expected.
Michael's voice dropped to almost a whisper. "You're part of this family now, Liora. Whether you want to be or not."
Liora met his eyes, searching for any hint of doubt or resentment.
But all she saw was something steady and real.
"I don't know if I'm ready," she admitted.
He reached out, briefly touching her hand, a fleeting, tentative gesture. "You're stronger than you think. And you don't have to do it alone."
The moment hung between them, fragile, filled with unspoken feelings and promises.
Then Michael cleared his throat, stepping back. "Come on. Let's not make this afternoon all serious. The others are probably up to no good."
Liora smiled, the tension easing. "Lead the way, Sir Michael."
He grinned, a flash of boyishness breaking through his usual reserve.
Together, they left the room, the beginnings of a bond quietly taking root between them
Outside, the garden was bursting with spring colors. The Edelhardt children were scattered beneath the blooming trees, their laughter ringing through the air like birdsong.
Michael and Liora approached the others, who were gathered near a low stone wall covered in moss.
Annalise was scolding Leopold for stealing a shiny pebble from Mathilde's collection.
"Return it this instant!" she commanded, arms crossed, her sharp eyes flashing.
Leopold stuck out his tongue but dropped the pebble back into Mathilde's small hand.
"Only because you asked so nicely," he said with a grin.
Mathilde beamed, clutching her treasure like a queen guarding her crown.
Elias toddled near the flowerbeds, poking at the soft earth with a stick.
Liora smiled softly, watching the chaos. This was a family, imperfect, noisy, but full of life.
Michael nudged her gently. "Want to help me start a game? I promise I won't make you duel with sticks."
Liora laughed, the sound light and genuine.
"Deal."
Michael pulled a length of vine from a nearby bush and fashioned it into a makeshift crown.
"King of the Blossoms," he declared, placing the crown on Liora's head with a mock-serious expression.
The other children cheered, crowning her with fresh flowers.
Liora's heart warmed. For the first time in months, she felt like she belonged somewhere.
Annalise narrowed her eyes but smiled in approval.
"Your majesty, we await your command," she teased.
Liora looked around at the bright faces, at Lady Amalia watching from the veranda with a gentle smile.
Michael grinned as he carefully adjusted the leafy crown on Liora's head. "All hail Queen Liora of Blossomhollow. Your first royal decree?"
Liora glanced at the laughing children around her, feeling a rare lightness. "Hmm… I decree that everyone must share their sweets at the next feast."
Leopold's eyes sparkled. "Finally, a queen with good taste."
Annalise smirked but nodded. "I can get behind that."
Mathilde clapped excitedly. "Can I bake the sweets, Your Majesty?"
Michael elbowed her playfully. "Only if you promise not to burn the kitchen down this time."
Mathilde stuck out her tongue but giggled.
Elias toddled up, holding a crooked twig. "Twig sword! Protect the queen!"
Michael crouched down and took Elias's hand. "A brave knight you shall be. Queen Liora, your kingdom is safe with us."
Liora looked at Michael and Elias and then the others, her throat tightening a little. She was still a guest here, an outsider in a noble house. But moments like these, simple, imperfect, filled with laughter, made her heart ache with hope.
Michael caught her gaze and gave her a quick, reassuring smile.
"Don't worry," he said softly. "You're one of us now."
Liora swallowed, the weight of the words sinking deep. She nodded.
"Thank you, Michael."
They stood together under the blooming branches, a fragile new family growing slowly in the spring air.