Time seemed to fly by, the term had ended, and winter break had begun. Elena and her mother now found refuge at her grandparents’ cottage, a much-needed retreat before the new term and new year. The snowy landscape and the warmth of the fireplace offered a much-needed respite.  

Though much had happened recently, this was a time for quiet celebration. Elena had maintained her midterm grades and held her top ranking through the end of the term, despite the challenges that had tested her resolve. 

Catherine felt immense pride in her daughter. Not only had she bravely faced false rumors about her mother but also the challenges of starting fresh in a new place. Yet, Elena had still managed to excel academically. 

Now, with Hurbert set to join them in just a few days, Catherine felt a quiet excitement at the thought of their family being reunited here.  

This would be the longest she and Hurbert had been apart since their marriage—a strange feeling. Even when work took him to far places, it hadn’t kept them separated this long.  

As the snow drifted down outside, Catherine settled into the peace of the moment, savoring a rare sense of calm that came only here, surrounded by family and a quiet, snowy world. For now, the cottage was their sanctuary, a familiar place that allowed them to step away from the worries of the academy and society. 

The thought of Hurbert’s arrival drew Catherine back to their first winter visits to the cottage. Elena, barely a year old, seeing her first snow. Hurbert had taken her outside, cradling her carefully as she marveled at the glittering flakes. When he set her down, she grabbed a handful in her tiny fist, ready to taste it. 

Catherine laughed softly at the memory. It felt like just yesterday that they’d welcomed Elena. So much had changed since then—Elena was sixteen now, and somehow, Catherine realized, she’d drawn her mother into a strength she hadn’t known she needed. 

Amid the shifting seasons and all that had unfolded this year, Catherine felt a reassuring sense of home. Being here, with her family soon to be together, offered a comforting peace. 

"Why are you smiling like that?" Alice asked, entering the room. 

"I was just thinking about our first winter here with Elena," Catherine replied with a soft smile. 

"Me? Why?" Elena chimed in, following closely behind. 

"You were too young to remember," Catherine said, "but I miss those times a little." 

"Are you thinking of having another child, Catherine? It’s never too late," Alice teased with a grin. 

"Mother, are you really?" Elena asked, suddenly serious. 

"Of course not, Elena," Catherine laughed, shaking her head. "Mother, stop that—you'll have her thinking I actually am! If your father and I wanted another child, we’d have done it long ago." 

“Have you really never thought about it?” Elena asked, genuinely curious. 

“We have,” Catherine replied hesitantly, “but in the end, we decided our beautiful Elena was more than enough.” 

Elena smiled softly. “I used to wonder what it would be like to have a sibling,” she admitted. 

“You’ve never told me that before, Elena.” 

“It was just a passing thought—and besides, I wanted to be an only child, like you,” she said with a small grin. 

When the evening winded down, Elena lay awake, her thoughts wandering over everything that had happened since arriving in the capital. It would soon be a year since her father had given them the devastating news that had upended everything. 

She’d met so many people since then, and despite some students at the academy distancing themselves after the false rumors about her mother and the duchess, she’d gained a few true friends. Surprisingly, the time leading up to winter break had passed more smoothly than she’d anticipated. 

Though she still sometimes faced hushed whispers and curious stares, for the most part, everyone had moved on to other gossip. Yet her last encounter with Sebastian at the bookstore kept replaying in her mind, leaving her unsettled. 

Elena had spent countless days trying to understand how he’d come across the melody notes, even searching through every book in her room to confirm she had indeed lost them. But Sebastian wasn’t forthcoming, choosing instead to let her curiosity simmer. 

That day at the bookstore, he’d been different—playful, even. He laughed, smiled, and seemed to enjoy her bewilderment over the music. It was a side of him she’d never seen. 

What changed? she murmured to herself, absentmindedly tugging at the string of her blouse as she turned over in bed. In that moment, all thoughts of needing to avoid him had vanished. 

Wouldn’t he want to avoid me, too? He knew of their mothers’ tangled history, even if the stories they each held were different. But somehow, he kept drawing her in, making her heart flutter in ways she never knew it could. 

The bookstore had become their shared world, a quiet haven away from the expectations of the academy and the whispers about their families. Under its gentle lamplight, shelves lined with books seemed to shield them from the judging eyes outside. Here, amidst the faint smell of paper and dust, they could almost pretend there was no history weighing them down. 

When they did cross paths at the academy, Sebastian had perfected the mask of poised detachment. Though he’d offered her a polite greeting or nod, to everyone else it was merely a marker of his grace—a testament to his perfection.  

Despite knowing the rumors, he still acknowledged her. The daughter of a thief, they whispered beneath their breaths. Elena’s blood ran cold. Anger simmered at the thought that they’d dare to label her mother that way without knowing the truth. 

However, as the days grew shorter, their encounters dwindled. Exams approached, the weather turned colder, and Sebastian’s visits to the bookstore grew scarce.   

Unbeknownst to her, he often watched from a distance, seeing her ascend into her carriage as her evening shift ended. Sometimes, he opted for an unmarked carriage, instructing Geoff to follow discreetly, ensuring her journey home was uneventful. When she was safely on her way, he’d retreat to the Lakehouse, letting the stillness there envelop him.   

With each passing weekend, the Lakehouse had taken on the aura of a sanctuary. He knew that Elena, too, had left it behind for the season, and he allowed himself to roam its halls in solitude, contemplating the quiet changes he’d ordered. 

He didn’t wish to erase his grandfather’s memory but rather to make the place feel like a refuge of his own—somewhere he could retreat from the weight of a life he never fully chose.   

In the quiet of his thoughts, Sebastian considered his recent encounters with Elena and the unsettling effect she had on him. Her presence was a pull he could barely understand, yet it genuinely frightened him.  

He knew well the future laid out for him, the expectations heavy just as winter’s chill. Yet somehow, Elena had begun to rattle his carefully kept resolve. Worse still, the jealousy that had pushed him to the bookstore that day—making him reveal he’d found her melody—felt immature, even reckless. 

What gives me the right? He questioned himself, recognizing the possessiveness creeping into his thoughts. This need to watch her, to hold her attention solely on him, was anything but normal for him. But beneath it, he found an urge just as intense: a need to protect her, to guard her against the world and to selfishly keep her world centered on him. 

Winter break had created the perfect backdrop for Sebastian to return to his routine and the rigorous mentorship under his father. The days blurred together in a steady stream of lessons, obligations, and expectations, restoring the predictable life he had always known. 

Yet, as the year drew to a close, he hoped, perhaps more desperately than he cared to admit, that the absence of Elena from his sight would restore his focus—and let him forget this pull that refused to fade. 

The sharp clopping of horse hooves broke the stillness of the early morning, waking Elena from her sleep. The cottage was already bustling; Charles sat in his usual spot on the back porch, undeterred by the cold as he gazed over the frozen lake, a cup of tea warming his hands. 

“Did someone arrive?” Alice asked as Catherine entered the room, adjusting her robe as they both peered out the window. 

“I think it might be Hurbert,” Catherine replied softly, her voice betraying a hint of surprise. 

“I thought he was arriving tomorrow,” Alice said, a touch of concern in her voice as she wondered if something had come up. 

The carriage halted, and the door swung open as Viscount Hurbert Sinclair stepped carefully onto the snow-dusted path. Catherine opened the front door, shivering as the brisk winter air met her thin robe. 

“Catherine,” Hurbert murmured, quickening his pace toward her, his gaze warm as she looked up at him, holding back tears. 

“Let me look at you,” she said softly, cupping his face before he leaned down to kiss her. 

“It’s freezing out there! At least let him in,” Alice called out from the kitchen, already setting water on to boil for tea. 

As the door closed behind him and Catherine took his coat, their eyes remained locked. 

“Father!” Elena exclaimed, rushing forward to embrace him. “I’ve missed you so much,” she said, her voice breaking as tears slipped down her cheeks. 

Catherine watched her husband and daughter, holding back her own tears as Alice entered with a tea tray and Charles joined them. 

After greeting everyone, Hurbert explained that he’d been able to leave earlier than expected, allowing him to arrive ahead of schedule. 

Catherine studied him quietly, taking in the subtle differences since their last meeting, and the tiredness that lingered in his expression. She knew him well enough to guess he’d likely been working nonstop to rebuild his business. 

Elena spent the morning excitedly recounting all she’d learned at the academy, showering him with questions about Valtara until Catherine intervened, gently reminding Elena of his long journey and need for rest. 

When Hurbert finished his bath, he and Catherine spent hours in her room, talking softly until he finally fell asleep. Seeing him like this stirred a familiar ache within her—a yearning for the mornings they’d once shared. 

 She was happy they were together for now, even if it was temporary. Watching him sleep, she saw how much he had changed—there was a slight gauntness, new lines tracing his face. She knew this wasn't just from age or travel. The thought of how hard he was probably pushing himself made her heart ache for him. 

And though she knew they would soon part again, she clung to the hope that everything might one day return to its rightful place, to what they had before their lives unraveled.