Bound to You

Chapter 1: The Revival of a Promise

The morning sun streamed through the tall windows of the Moreau estate, casting golden light on the antique oak floors. It was quiet—eerily so—just the way Elijah Moreau preferred when he needed to think.

He stood by the fireplace in the sitting room, a half-full coffee cup in one hand and an old photo in the other. He stared at it for a long moment—two children, hand-in-hand, grinning with carefree joy. Himself, and Evelyn.

The butler entered soundlessly.

"Sir, Madam Isobel Valare-Hale has arrived."

Elijah turned, nodding. "Show her in."

A few moments later, Isobel stepped in with her usual elegance. Dressed in a soft gray coat, hair neatly pinned, she looked every bit the poised woman she'd always been. But her eyes, deep and sharp, betrayed emotion—something more than mere pleasantries.

"Elijah," she said, her voice smooth. "You've grown even more like your father. Same spine, same gaze."

He offered a tight smile. "And you haven't aged a day, Isobel."

She let out a soft laugh and took the seat he gestured to.

They spoke briefly of trivial things—his recent investment in an art gallery, a new book she was reading. But after a minute, the silence turned heavier.

Isobel sat forward, folding her hands. "I didn’t just come to catch up."

"I assumed as much."

"I came... to talk about Valentine. And Evelyn."

His brow lifted slightly. "You’re serious?"

"Yes. I know the engagement was broken when Elias and I divorced, and I didn’t push it back then. It wouldn’t have been right. But now..." She paused. "Valentine has built himself from the ground up. And he’s still holding onto her."

Elijah’s eyes narrowed. "Still?"

"He never let go. Even when we thought he had. He’s quiet about it, always has been, but I see it."

Elijah leaned back in his seat, absorbing her words. Valentine Valare. Stoic, composed... but always lingering near Evelyn during those old family parties. Watching. Never speaking much.

He took a slow sip of coffee. "And Evelyn knows nothing."

"Nothing. And I want to keep it that way. This should be her choice, Elijah—not because she feels indebted or manipulated."

He nodded silently. Valentine. Of all people. Still holding onto her after all these years...

"So you're asking me to propose the arrangement again."

"Yes. Let her decide freely. I believe she'll say yes, if only to try something new."

He stood, pacing toward the fireplace again. The photo of Evelyn as a girl caught his eye. She’s grown up so strong. But maybe, just maybe... she doesn’t need to do it alone anymore.

"I’ll speak to her."

Later that evening, Evelyn was curled up on the window seat of the upstairs library, a novel open in her lap. She looked up as her brother entered.

"You’ve been quiet all day."

"Had some unexpected company."

She raised a brow. "Who?"

"Isobel Valare."

That made her straighten. "Valentine’s mother?"

"Yes. She came to talk about reviving the engagement."

There was a beat of stunned silence.

"The one our grandparents arranged?"

"The same. She said now that things have settled, she wanted to offer it again. As a possibility."

Evelyn closed the book gently. Valentine... It’s been years since I last saw him. I barely know who he is anymore.

"That’s... random."

"Not entirely. We’ve known each other’s families forever. And frankly, Evelyn, you haven’t seemed truly happy in a long time."

She frowned at him. "So this is about me being lonely?"

"No." He softened. "It’s about you not being alone if you don’t want to be. This marriage wouldn’t be for politics. Just a choice between two people who already have history."

I remember him in the garden... always standing by the wall, so silent. But he never looked away when I passed by.

Still, this wasn’t about romance. Not to her.

"What about Valentine? Did he agree to this?"

"Yes. He’s open to it."

"And you're okay with this?"

"I wouldn’t bring it to you if I wasn’t."

She bit her lip, looking out the window. The garden below was blooming, a soft wind ruffling the tall lavender stalks.

Can I picture a life with him?

It wasn’t a whirlwind. It wasn’t a fairy tale. But maybe it didn’t have to be.

"Okay," she said quietly. "I'll meet him. I’ll give this marriage a chance."

Valentine Valare stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows of his office, hands in the pockets of his tailored slacks. The city below sparkled with streetlights and passing cars. But all he could see was the ghost of her smile.

His phone buzzed once.

"She agreed."

—Theo

He didn’t reply right away. His chest was tight, filled with something between awe and disbelief.

She said yes...

Behind him, Theo stepped in. The ever-efficient PA adjusted his glasses and spoke calmly.

"Elijah called to confirm. They’ll reach out tomorrow about the formal dinner."

Valentine nodded once.

"Thank you."

"You alright?"

"Yes."

But his heart thundered. He walked to his desk, where a worn photograph rested in a drawer. A young Evelyn, laughing at a summer party, a ribbon slipping from her hair.

You don’t remember the way you looked that day. But I never forgot.

He placed the photo back, closing the drawer.

You don’t know what you mean to me. And that’s fine. You don’t need to.

Just let me stand beside you this time.

Evelyn couldn’t sleep.

She lay on her side, fingers curled around the edge of her pillow, staring at the glow of the moonlight pooling on the floor.

Her thoughts were tangled. She hadn’t thought of Valentine in years—not really. Not beyond the occasional social memory.

He used to watch from a distance. I always thought he was just shy. Or maybe indifferent.

She frowned softly.

But he agreed to this. He must want it too, in some way.

That didn’t mean anything more than a mutual willingness to try. She wasn’t naïve.

But still...