The wind coming off the Channel was cool, carrying the faint tang of salt and seaweed. Normandy’s beaches stretched out in both directions, pale sand glimring under the fading evening light. The tide was on its way in, rolling in gentle swells that hissed and foad against the shore.
Eira stepped off the wooden walkway and onto the sand, her boots sinking slightly. Emma kept pace beside her, her cloak pulled tight against the breeze. Both won scanned the beach, their eyes sharp.
There — a figure stood not far from the waterline, her long dark coat fluttering faintly in the wind.
"Alina Trévér," Emma murmured, her voice low.
No entourage. No guards. No ostentatious display of Trévér wealth or power. Just the woman herself, standing like she owned the tide and the horizon.
"That’s unusual," Eira said flatly.
"Which makes twice as cautious. In a war, being alone without guards ans one of two things—either she’s powerful enough to defend herself, or reckless enough to wander about while Maximilian threatens her life. Whatever it is, it’s arrogant," Emma replied.
They approached at a asured pace. The sand gave under their steps, making each movent deliberate.
Alina turned toward them as they neared. She was smiling — not the smug, victorious smirk Eira rembered from the courtroom, but sothing stranger. Almost... fond.
"Eira White," she said, her tone warm in a way that felt utterly wrong coming from her lips. "And Emma Bloom. How very good of you to co."
Emma inclined her head politely but said nothing.
Eira t Alina’s gaze evenly. "You said you wanted to et. Here we are. Let’s hear it."
Alina’s smile deepened, and she stepped closer, her boots crunching softly on the wet sand. "You are... fascinating, Miss White. Truly. I have seen cunning, I have seen courage, I have seen stubbornness — but never in such perfect balance in one so young."
Eira’s brow arched. "That’s flattering. Also a little unsettling. What exactly are you trying to get at?"
"In that hearing," Alina continued as if Eira hadn’t spoken, "you stood alone against a room full of wolves, and not only did you survive, you made them look like the fools they are. Not many could do that at twelve. Not many could do that at sixty."
Eira folded her arms. "So what’s the reason for this sudden... admiration? People like you don’t get fascinated without an angle. And frankly, it’s creepy when an older woman starts fixating on a teenager."
The smile didn’t fade — but it sharpened. "Careful, child. My fascination is not tawdry. It is beautiful. Sacred. Spiritual. Magical."
"That," Eira said dryly, "doesn’t make it sound less creepy."
Alina’s eyes glinted, her voice dropping low. "If you were not the head of House White, I would have taken you away. Kept you. Like one keeps a priceless relic or a rare jewel. You are a trophy to — but one I would never hide. I would keep you beside always, to look at, to study, to marvel at."
Emma’s hand twitched near the edge of her cloak, where her wand would be. Eira glanced at her briefly, a silent signal to hold.
"From the day I first saw you at that hearing," Alina went on, "I have not been able to stop thinking about you. The way you spoke. The way you did not yield. The way you smiled when others would have cried."
Eira tilted her head. "You know, when you say things like that, it really does sound like you’re in love with . Sorry, I don’t do older won."
Alina’s lips curled into sothing between a smirk and a sneer. "Love? Do not cheapen this. Love is fragile. Common. This is sothing else — sothing older, deeper. Beyond sentint. Beyond flesh and lust. Sothing that binds."
"Binds?" Eira repeated, her voice edged with suspicion.
"Yes," Alina whispered, as if savoring the word. "You call it creepy. I call it destiny."
The waves hissed louder for a mont, as if the sea itself was leaning in to hear.
Eira stood her ground, her gaze unwavering. "You’re not making a lot of sense. And the more you talk, the more I think you’ve lost sothing in that head of yours. Maybe it’s common sense. Maybe it’s morals. Hard to tell."
Alina chuckled — a low, rich sound that didn’t match the chill in her eyes. "You will understand one day. For now, I will be content with the knowledge that I was right about you."
"And what exactly am I, then, that makes you so certain you’re right?" Eira asked, her voice cool.
Alina’s smile returned, slow and deliberate. "A storm. A beautiful, rare storm. One that cannot be tad, only witnessed."
They stood in silence for a long mont, the only sounds the wind and the crash of the tide. Emma shifted slightly, her gaze flicking between the two won, reading every subtle change in tone and posture.
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