Arianne had not stepped into this estate for years. The last ti she was here had been after her parents’ funeral, and since then, no formal summons had been issued until now.
The estate appeared largely unchanged. Its height and stone façade distinguished it from the surrounding modern properties, and the Conway crest carved into the archway they had just passed confird that the family’s authority remained intact.
The remainder of the drive passed in silence. Gio sat beside her without speaking, and she did not attempt conversation.
The car stopped beneath the covered entrance. An elderly butler approached imdiately and opened the rear door.
"Miss Arianne, it has been so ti," he said with a slight bow.
She studied his face. He was familiar, though his na did not surface.
When she stepped onto the stone pavent, Gio exited from the opposite side and moved to stand a half-step behind her. The butler’s gaze paused on Gio longer than courtesy required. A faint crease ford between his brows before he regained composure and gestured toward the entrance.
"This way, Miss Arianne."
Inside, polished marble reflected the chandelier above. A curved staircase rose along the left wall, and frad portraits decorated the hallway leading deeper into the house. Two people waited at the bottom of the stairs: Julian and his mother, Joyce Monreau.
Joyce had been one of the few mbers of the Conway family who treated Arianne without visible judgnt. She and Ysabella had grown up together, though their relationship had weakened after Ysabella married Gabriel Sumrs and distanced herself from the estate.
"Aria," Joyce said as she approached. She examined Arianne’s face carefully before placing both hands against her cheeks, as if confirming sothing unspoken.
Julian inclined his head in greeting but remained where he stood.
"I heard you were back. Why didn’t you call?" Joyce asked.
"I have been occupied with work," Arianne replied, keeping her tone neutral.
Joyce’s expression softened. "Have you visited your mother? It must have been difficult, staying away for so long."
Arianne did not correct the implication. Her expression remained composed.
"Miss Arianne," the butler interjected from a respectful distance, "Madam is waiting."
Joyce released her and stepped aside. "You’ll stay for lunch. I’ll have your usual dishes prepared."
"Thank you. I’ll see you later."
Arianne turned toward the staircase. Gio followed without comnt, maintaining a consistent distance behind her rather than walking beside her in the narrower corridor.
As they ascended, she observed that the portraits along the stairwell remained in the sa arrangent. No new additions had replaced the older generation. The fras had been polished, but the order remained the sa.
At the study door, the butler knocked and announced her arrival. A faint response sounded from within before he opened the door and stepped aside. The door closed behind them once they entered.
The study retained its original structure. A large oak desk faced the entrance, positioned directly beneath tall windows partially covered by heavy drapes. Bookcases lined the right wall. Two chairs were placed before the desk; Yosef Conway occupied one of them, angled slightly toward the door. Evelyn Conway sat behind the desk, upright and unmoving.
Yosef stood imdiately upon seeing Arianne. He appeared ready to speak, but Evelyn’s glance in his direction halted him before any words ford.
"Grandmother," Arianne said, inclining her head. Gio lowered his gaze and positioned himself a asured distance behind her left shoulder.
Evelyn did not respond at once. She studied Arianne for several seconds before shifting her attention to Gio.
"You still keep that boy beside you?" she asked, her tone even and controlled.
Her gaze rested on Gio as if reassessing an unresolved matter rather than making a casual inquiry.
Gio remained still, hands clasped behind his back. He neither defended his presence nor retreated from it.
Arianne did not look toward him.
"Yes," she answered, her voice steady.
Evelyn adjusted the corner of a folder resting near the center of her desk before speaking again.
"You often resist correction. Most children adapt over ti."
"Most children don’t have to fix what adults let break. There’s a difference, Grandmother." Arianne replied calmly, her eyes showing no sign of weakness.
Yosef shifted in his chair but stayed quiet.
"You are here because the estate needs clear answers," Evelyn said.
"Extended family mbers have started questioning representation and influence. Your long absence has led to different interpretations."
"If interpretations have co up," Arianne said calmly, "it happened without my input."
Evelyn slightly nodded.
"Being absent can look like you’re withdrawing. It suggests you are giving up your position."
Arianne inclined her head.
"I didn’t give up anything. I changed my approach."
The difference was clear between them.
Evelyn leaned back in her chair, her eyes narrowing with interest.
"At thirteen," Evelyn said, folding her hands on the desk, "you chose to confront the Sumrs’ authority instead of consulting us. You acted without our guidance, causing changes that could have been avoided."
Arianne knew very well what her grandmother was saying. For the Conways, she destroyed the balance and authority when she destroyed her own father and defeated her relatives, erging as the Sumrs’ sole heiress.
"I knew the risks," Arianne replied. "I didn’t expect any protection."
Yosef’s fingers tightened on the armrest before he relaxed again.
Evelyn turned her gaze to Gio. "Yet you still keep attachnts."
"He is not just an attachnt," Arianne said. "He is my brother."
Her correction was calm and straightforward.
Evelyn allowed a brief pause before reaching for the folder and sliding it closer to the edge of the desk, aligning it precisely with the grain of the wood.
"So issues in the estate need to be handled carefully. You have shown that you can deal with instability without making a scene. This is important."
Yosef looked at the folder but did not say anything.
Arianne walked to the desk and put her hand gently on the docunt without opening it.
"You are requesting involvent."
"I am requiring awareness," Evelyn corrected. "Whether that becos involvent depends on your judgnt."
"If I review this," Arianne replied, lifting her gaze to et her grandmother’s, "it will be under defined conditions. I will not appear publicly to reassure our distant relatives. If I engage, it will concern governance, not sentint."
The room fell silent again.
Evelyn regarded her for several seconds before speaking.
"You have grown disciplined."
"I have remained consistent," Arianne answered.
A faint shift touched Evelyn’s expression—acknowledgnt rather than concession.
"You will remain for lunch. Joyce has arranged it." Her tone suggest no refusal would be accepted.
"I was inford."
Arianne withdrew her hand away from the folder and stepped back, signaling that the discussion was on paused, not finished. She turned toward the door without waiting for anyone to dismiss her.
Gio walked alongside her, keeping the sa careful distance as before. Yosef stood halfway up from his seat but stayed quiet under Evelyn’s watchful gaze.
The door opened.
In the hallway, nothing felt different. The chandelier light shone on the marble floor as it had earlier, and no loud voices ca from the study.
Arianne neither justified her past nor sought approval. She determined how she would participate, and the estate adjusted its approach accordingly.
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