They talked for almost an hour.
Stories and laughter flowed through the room until lunch was served. The long table was laid out with roasted meat, buttery rolls, warm soup, and autumn vegetables that brought Evelyn back to memories of her mother’s presence.
To her surprise, her entire family finally gathered with them. Finley’s wife and their two sons joined as well. Her other uncle, Robert Morgan, who is Finley’s younger brother, also joined with his wife.
Evelyn realized she was the only woman in the family, aside from her great-grandmother. She received so much care from all of them.
She feels overwhelmed, but in a good way.
Everyone insisted she sit at the head of the table beside Emma.
Finley and Robert teased her endlessly. She wasn’t sure if they were trying to make her less nervous or just trying to amuse her.
Theodor observed with a quiet warmth.
Nicholas watched her eat, as if making sure she was real and not his geriatric imagination.
Evelyn felt like she had stepped into a memory she never had, yet somehow already missed.
The food tasted like comfort. The conversation tasted like home.
...
Lunch is finally over.
The fire in the woodstove crackled gently, sending warm light across the room.
The rest of the family had disappeared after lunch, drifting into quiet hallways and sunlit study rooms. The hustle of the house softened into silence.
Evelyn remained by the hearth with Emma, who sat wrapped in her wool blanket, her pale, wrinkled hands folded neatly, as though holding memories in place.
They had talked about Oliver for almost an hour. Emma could not hear enough about her great-great-grandson. Every detail delighted her.
"He speaks Chinese and Korean?" Emma asked, eyes sparkling.
"Not perfectly," Evelyn laughed. "Sometimes he mixes them."
Emma giggled behind her hand. "That is adorable. He must sound like a tiny diplomat."
"More like a hungry puppy," Evelyn replied with a fond smile. "He follows me into the kitchen like one."
"He looks cute, smart, just like I imagined from the picture you showed us."
"Yes. He is..." Evelyn’s eyes beamed as she talked about her adorable son.
"Tell me more..."
Evelyn paused for a moment, trying to recall something she had not yet told Emma.
A faint smile gradually appeared on her lips as a thought crossed her mind.
"He looks just like Axel recently," Evelyn said.
She can’t help but laugh inwardly when she imagines her son talking to the house staff just as Axel does.
At the mention of Axel, Emma lifted her chin, curiosity shimmering through her gaze.
"And, Axel..." she murmured. "He treats you really well, yes?"
Evelyn smiled as she looked at Emma. She had already told her earlier, but it seems her grandma is still worried.
"He does. He loves me so much, and he loves Oliver as much. He is a good father..." Evelyn said with a smile, reassuring Emma that she had nothing to worry about how Axel treated her and Oliver.
Emma exhaled softly, took Evelyn’s hand, and patted it lovingly, "Then he is a good man."
Silence settled again, but not an uncomfortable one.
Evelyn froze. The thought had haunted her before, but hearing it aloud felt like stepping through thin ice.
Emma’s voice grew quiet, lost in the crackle of the fire. "Your grandma, Giselle... she ran away after your great-grandfather forced her to marry his choice."
Evelyn was stunned. She looked over at Emma.
"Forced?"
"Yes."
Emma closed her eyes briefly, as if the memory itself weighed too much.
"Back then, Nicholas was... prideful. He believed only in alliances with powerful families. He wanted Giselle to marry into another military household. Someone from our rank. Someone respectable."
Evelyn was not surprised. It fit perfectly with what she had already learned about the Morgans. Power. Reputation. Control. For some families, these were the pillars of everything.
Emma continued, voice shaking, "She loved someone else. A man Nicholas refused to accept. Refuse to even acknowledge. He said the man was not worthy of her... He lacked the right background. That he would ruin our family lineage. He thought he was protecting her future. But, my foolish husband was wrong."
Evelyn reached out slowly and held Emma’s hand tighter.
"When my foolish husband’s heart finally softened," Emma whispered, "it was too late. Giselle was gone. We realized we could not keep her. Not when she had found her own heart."
Evelyn was rendered speechless. Her grandmother. The woman she never met. The woman she had always imagined as a silhouette. She ran for love.
"Where did she go?" Evelyn asked softly.
"She told me she was staying with a friend. When I went to fetch her, she was not there. She already left. But she left something for me. A letter."
Emma blinked rapidly, tears pooling.
"In the letter, she wrote that she was cutting ties with us. That she would never return. She followed her heart, choosing a man Nicholas rejected."
Emma’s hands trembled violently, and Evelyn placed her other hand over them, steadying her.

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