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ix. Malfoy
FOR SUCH A FESTIVE HOLIDAY,THE DEVEREUX MANOR WAS EERILY QUIET. After the dinner with the Malfoys a few days ago, there hadn't been much to liven the mood. Eulalia had excused herself from the endless chatter of her parents and left her siblings to endure it. She had retreated upstairs with Draco, where they found solace in the quiet company of each other, much like they would at Hogwarts.
They spent their time in Draco's room, just sitting around, talking in low murmurs, or simply letting the silence stretch comfortably between them. His room was a sanctuary, its beauty offering a distraction from the tense atmosphere of the house.
When Eulalia finally returned home that evening, she was surprised to hear her father praise them. He commended their behavior, going so far as to overlook their usual sibling squabbles and even the alleged fight Valerian had gotten into at school.
Eulalia still didn't know much about what had happened—she hadn't even known that her brother fancied boys. She wasn't upset by it, but she did wish he'd felt comfortable enough to tell her himself, instead of it all blowing up in front of her and Nereida. The siblings had hardly spoken since, and with the ball fast approaching, they couldn't afford to stay at odds.
With their parents out of the house, Eulalia decided it was time to address the issue. She sat Valerian and Nereida down in the drawing room, the old-fashioned wallpaper and dim lighting giving the room an air of solemnity.
"You two need to sort this out," Eulalia said, standing in front of them with her arms crossed. Valerian opened his mouth to retort but was interrupted by the arrival of their eldest sister, Mirelia.
"You seriously told her?" Valerian snapped, his tone thick with irritation.
"I didn't tell her anything!" Eulalia shot back, her voice edged with frustration. "I just told her that you two needed to work things out. If you want her to know, that's your business. It should've been your business before Nereida blabbed it to me," she added, turning a stern gaze on Nereida. The youngest Devereux sat with her head bowed, knowing she was in the wrong.
"I know. I already apologized," Nereida mumbled quietly, her voice barely above a whisper.
Eulalia turned back to Valerian, softening her tone. "And you need to understand, Valerian, there's nothing wrong with it."
Mirelia, still standing by the door, let out a small sigh of exasperation. "I don't know what's going on," she admitted, "but we need to get this sorted. The ball is tomorrow, and Father will lose his mind if this isn't resolved."
