29. CHAPTER 26 #3
I nodded. “When it’s dense law or political history, he tenses. This—” I lifted the book an inch from my lap. “This calms him. Or maybe it’s my imagination. Either way, the monitors haven't signaled an alarm yet, so I’m taking it as a good sign.”
The corner of his mouth quirked, but it was gone before I could be sure it was ever there.
“He always hated the bureaucrats,” Orion said, his voice a low gravel. He moved to the other side of the bed, his presence looming over the machinery. “He spent forty years fighting them. I suppose he doesn't want to hear about them now that he’s finally found some peace.”
“Then I'll keep the bureaucrats out of the room. He deserves a break from their war.”
I saw Orion’s throat work as he swallowed, his gaze fixed on the IV line. I didn't want to push him. This was the most vulnerable I’d ever seen him.
I set the book aside and reached for the glass of water, wiping his father’s mouth gently with the cloth. When I glanced up again, Orion was watching my hand.
“You don’t have to do this,” he murmured.
“I know.”
The words hung between us.
I hadn’t done it to impress him, or his mother, or anyone else.
I didn't do it for the Kade name. I did it because the man in this bed was my father-in-law, and I refused to live in a house, pretending he didn’t exist. If I was going to be part of this family built on control, I wasn't going to let a human being become just another piece of the scenery.
“He… liked being read to,” Orion said, eyes back on his father again. “Before—”
The rawness in his voice pulled at my ribcage.
“I figured as much,” I said. “You’ve got enough history books here to start a museum.”
He huffed out a breath that might have been a laugh. “He never threw anything away. He always said you don’t discard the past just because it makes the present uncomfortable.”
I swallowed, my fingers pressed hard around the glass.
That sounded like something my father would say. It was the language of men who cared about legacy above everything else—men who believed that once you built something, you never let it go.
I looked from the man in the bed to the man standing over him, and my father didn’t feel like he was miles away. He felt like he was right here in this room.
I’d always seen my father’s strictness as a personal grievance, a wall built specifically to keep me in my place. But watching Orion now, I realised it was just how men like them lived. A burden they carried, and forced on everyone around them. Now it was being passed down to us.
I dabbed the corner of his father’s mouth again, then placed the cloth back on the tray. Orion’s hand brushed mine as he reached for it too, and a current shot up my arm.
We both stilled.
I pulled back, even though my body recognized the touch instantly, traitorously welcoming it with an ease that made my denial feel like a lie.
“Thank you,” he said, looking at me again. There was no smirk, no disguise. Just a simple, direct gratitude. “For… this.”
I shrugged, suddenly unsure what to do with my hands. “He’s my family now too.”
His eyes lit up at that.
“I know my mother’s meetings with you are exhausting,” he said. “This is… different.”
“I spend most of my mornings with her calculating my every word,” I replied. “It’s a relief to be in a room where I don’t have to prove my worth every five minutes.”
His expression eased, a rare look of understanding crossing his face. Then he smiled—the real thing.
“I know the feeling.” He dug a hand into his pocket, the smile still on his lips. “She has a habit of turning every interaction into a test.”
He lowered his voice conspiratorially. “The trick is to let her think she's winning. That's how the rest of us stay alive.”
I smiled back before I could stop myself, then quickly looked away. I gathered the low ponytail at my neck, twisting the dark strands into a tight, coiled bun as if I were pulling myself back together.
“I’ll let you have some time with him,” I whispered, stepping back from the bed. “We’re in the middle of a campaign with House of Vassier, and if I don’t answer Céleste’s messages soon she might burn this estate to the ground.”
“You better go,” he quipped. But when I moved past him, his hand caught my elbow, stopping me.
“Léonie.”
I turned.
He looked at me, his expression unreadable and yet not quite as opaque as it used to be.
“You don’t have to make everyone comfortable,” he said. “Not me, not my parents…or any one in this house.”
“I’m not,” I replied. “I’m making myself comfortable.”
It was true. Everything I'd done lately was to ground me to my new reality, to ensure I wasn't just a guest in my own life. I was finding my place, carving out a corner of this cold house that actually belonged to me.
His gaze held mine, understanding warming the darkness there.
“You’re full of surprises, aren't you?”
He wasn’t exactly asking. I could practically see him tearing up the mental file he'd kept on me in his head, and starting over.
“Goodnight, Orion.”
I picked up the tray. His eyes tracked me across the room, all the way to the door.
My pace quickened from the glass door to the corridor, away from where Orion could still see me. I had only made it halfway down the hall when a shadow moved near the service stairs.
It was Arthur, one of the veteran housekeepers responsible for the east wing. His hair was a thin, silver mist under the dim hallway lights, and his uniform was as impeccable as it had likely been for the thirty years he’d served this family.
“Allow me, Mrs. Kade,” he said, his voice a soft rasp, his American accent slipping through.
He stepped forward to take the tray from my hands before I could protest.
“Thank you, Arthur,” I said feeling the sudden emptiness in my arms.
He adjusted the tray with a steady grip. “Of course. Is there anything else you’d like tonight? A tea for yourself, perhaps?”
I gave a tired smile. “No, thank you. But... if you could ask the chef to keep the soup just a few degrees cooler tomorrow? Senior Kade seems to struggle when it’s a little too hot.”
Arthur's eyes held a brief warmth of acknowledgment behind his spectacles. He bowed his head subtly. “I will see to it personally, Ma’am.”
With that, he turned and disappeared down the service wing, his stride as efficient as ever.
Left alone in the corridor, I could still feel where Orion's hand had touched mine. I flexed my fingers. The walk back to the east wing felt longer than it should have, the silence of the estate trailing me as I moved.
The last few weeks had changed things in ways I hadn't planned for.
Between the shared smiles, the laughs, the stolen glances, Blaise at our table, my voice in his father’s room—
Being Madame Kade felt less burdensome now. The estate no longer felt like a place I'd been thrown into and abandoned. It was becoming a place I could claim as mine, decide what to make of it—despite the fear of what that might mean.
There was a stubborn hope in me that wanted to see it through. See what this place could become.
Maybe I just might.