03-01-2026, 06:49 PM
Eve found the information shocking, though of course the emotion never showed on her face. Carter had a brother? She resisted the urge to look at Daphne, and leaned instead to take Araminta’s hands in her own. Her expression was warm, visibly moved by the human nature of the confession. Distress called to her more loudly than fear of a scandal ever would, and the single question made her heart constrict. Tobias had lied, or at least allowed Araminta to believe something untrue. Their son had not been raised in the seat of privilege and power – he had not been raised a Volthström at all. Of course he had not, illegitimate child that he was. He had been tidied away where he could not disrupt a dynasty.
“You do not have to explain why. We are not here to judge you, Minty,” she said. The words were kind, her tone soft. Araminta had been as both mother and sister to her since she had left the Custody, and her affections were forged deeply. Though it was more than that; something ancient and primal stirred too. No mother should remain ignorant of a child’s fate. “Sometimes the best thing we can do for those we love is to let them go. But what a terrible burden to have carried alone.” Her hands squeezed in solidarity. She wished she could offer more in the moment, but neither would she lie woman to woman, friend to friend. Was the child happy? A man now, she supposed. Did he have a family? Was Araminta a grandmother? None of it was Eve’s business but for the thread of compassion which fuelled her. She could not answer, because there was none to give. But the silence felt like a cruel cut for how earnestly Araminta had asked the question: is he happy?
“We came for Daphne,” she added carefully. The woman herself was still and silent, processing the disappointment she must be feeling, especially after having girded herself for such a moment. Eve’s thumbs moved gently over Araminta’s knuckles, keeping her attention. Daphne did not need the scrutiny, nor the weight of pity sure to follow. That truth had already been revealed: Daphne had spoken it herself, when she said she was here for the sake of her own past. When Araminta’s eyes met her own, Eve gave a subtle shake of her head to dissuade her from asking more.
“There’s something else I need to tell you,” she said then, guiding them gently away from the topic.
The goodbye was more difficult than she’d anticipated. The life Eve had lived here was unlike any previous experience in all her travels, and she would cherish it with the fullness of her heart. It was doubtful she could return, at least not whilst the borders remained closed, though of course she would stay in touch. That was a given. Eve had no mother, and while she would never phrase it quite so – especially in the wake of Araminta’s confession – the woman had nonetheless touched something of that void with her luminous presence. Not because she was maternal, not because she had mothered, but because she had been so open and welcoming at a moment when Eve had simply needed it, and asked for nothing in return.
The sincere exchange of words was brief despite all that the moment encompassed for Eve, in part because she was aware of Daphne, and in part because she could not bear to string it out. When they hugged there was a brief sparking of tears in the back of her eyes, quickly managed. “I will enquire,” she whispered to her before they parted. Not quite sure she should make such a promise, nor sure she should add weight to the reason neither she or Daphne had been able to answer Araminta’s question, but unable to stop herself in the moment.
Afterwards, when they were alone outside the gallery doors, she finally turned her attention to her friend, a delay only out of respect for Daphne’s composure and privacy. “I’m so sorry, Daph,” she said softly. There was little hint of emotion in the other woman’s facade, but Eve was not so blind as to believe it meant there was none beneath the surface. Daphne had fallen so silent after Araminta had revealed a son, not the daughter expected; it was why Eve had so gently taken the reins of the conversation, and continued to steer it to conclusion. She couldn’t fathom how painful the revelation must have been: that crush of hope, and on today of all days. “We will keep looking,” she said. A simple promise, sincerely made, and one she thought might be better appreciated as comfort than a squeeze of the hand or embrace.
“Grace should be here soon. And then we had better get to Teterboro,” she added.
“Thank you,” Daphne said. The words were sincere, but it was the clasp of hands which both surprised Eve and meant more. She grasped them warmly back. "If it's okay, I'll wait in the car."
[[Daphne moded with permission]]
“You do not have to explain why. We are not here to judge you, Minty,” she said. The words were kind, her tone soft. Araminta had been as both mother and sister to her since she had left the Custody, and her affections were forged deeply. Though it was more than that; something ancient and primal stirred too. No mother should remain ignorant of a child’s fate. “Sometimes the best thing we can do for those we love is to let them go. But what a terrible burden to have carried alone.” Her hands squeezed in solidarity. She wished she could offer more in the moment, but neither would she lie woman to woman, friend to friend. Was the child happy? A man now, she supposed. Did he have a family? Was Araminta a grandmother? None of it was Eve’s business but for the thread of compassion which fuelled her. She could not answer, because there was none to give. But the silence felt like a cruel cut for how earnestly Araminta had asked the question: is he happy?
“We came for Daphne,” she added carefully. The woman herself was still and silent, processing the disappointment she must be feeling, especially after having girded herself for such a moment. Eve’s thumbs moved gently over Araminta’s knuckles, keeping her attention. Daphne did not need the scrutiny, nor the weight of pity sure to follow. That truth had already been revealed: Daphne had spoken it herself, when she said she was here for the sake of her own past. When Araminta’s eyes met her own, Eve gave a subtle shake of her head to dissuade her from asking more.
“There’s something else I need to tell you,” she said then, guiding them gently away from the topic.
The goodbye was more difficult than she’d anticipated. The life Eve had lived here was unlike any previous experience in all her travels, and she would cherish it with the fullness of her heart. It was doubtful she could return, at least not whilst the borders remained closed, though of course she would stay in touch. That was a given. Eve had no mother, and while she would never phrase it quite so – especially in the wake of Araminta’s confession – the woman had nonetheless touched something of that void with her luminous presence. Not because she was maternal, not because she had mothered, but because she had been so open and welcoming at a moment when Eve had simply needed it, and asked for nothing in return.
The sincere exchange of words was brief despite all that the moment encompassed for Eve, in part because she was aware of Daphne, and in part because she could not bear to string it out. When they hugged there was a brief sparking of tears in the back of her eyes, quickly managed. “I will enquire,” she whispered to her before they parted. Not quite sure she should make such a promise, nor sure she should add weight to the reason neither she or Daphne had been able to answer Araminta’s question, but unable to stop herself in the moment.
Afterwards, when they were alone outside the gallery doors, she finally turned her attention to her friend, a delay only out of respect for Daphne’s composure and privacy. “I’m so sorry, Daph,” she said softly. There was little hint of emotion in the other woman’s facade, but Eve was not so blind as to believe it meant there was none beneath the surface. Daphne had fallen so silent after Araminta had revealed a son, not the daughter expected; it was why Eve had so gently taken the reins of the conversation, and continued to steer it to conclusion. She couldn’t fathom how painful the revelation must have been: that crush of hope, and on today of all days. “We will keep looking,” she said. A simple promise, sincerely made, and one she thought might be better appreciated as comfort than a squeeze of the hand or embrace.
“Grace should be here soon. And then we had better get to Teterboro,” she added.
“Thank you,” Daphne said. The words were sincere, but it was the clasp of hands which both surprised Eve and meant more. She grasped them warmly back. "If it's okay, I'll wait in the car."
[[Daphne moded with permission]]
![[Image: eve-age-banner-scaled.jpg]](https://thefirstage.org/wp-content/uploads/2025/10/eve-age-banner-scaled.jpg)