Chapter 19
Seren turned toward the voice and saw a woman emerging from the main hall.
She was a strikingly well-preserved woman in her early thirties, dressed in a deep navy, custom-tailored dress that perfectly complemented her refined air.
Unlike the typical display of wealth in pearls and diamonds often favored by society women, her elegance was innate a quiet dignity, the kind that radiates from the matriarch of an old and respected family.
Her eyes held none of Diana Yates’s sharp arrogance, but were gentle, her features softened by a warm smile—like sunlight in early spring, gentle and inviting.
When Seren noticed Lennon behind her, tall and poised in a black designer suit, she had a good idea who this woman must be.
Lennon confirmed her guess. “Seren, this is my mother p>
Seren lowered her gaze politely and greeted, “Mrs. Crestwell p>
“My mother says we can skip some of the formal engagement rituals, but the important traditions must still be honored,” Lennon explained, his voice calm and steady.
Seaside City had always prided itself on its enduring traditions, a place where etiquette was passed down with reverence. Whether among the local families or the city’s elite, a proper marriage proposal always included a formal presentation of gifts from the groom’s side—an essential step, regardless of social standing.
Seren was well aware of this custom. Yet, times had changed. With life moving at a faster pace, most families opted for a generous check in place of the elaborate engagement gifts. Only the oldest, most prestigious families still spared no effort or expense in preparing the traditional offerings, as a show of respect for the future daughter-in-law.
She had thought her marriage to Lennon-arranged in haste-would be little more than a formality, especially given her own tarnished reputation in Seaside City. She had assumed Lennon’s decision would be met with little acceptance from his family, and certainly not with any particular warmth.
But looking around at the lavishly prepared gifts filling the courtyard, she realized just how seriously the Crestwells were taking her.
Flustered, she blurted out, “Mrs. Crestwell, this really wasn’t necessary p>
Lennon’s mother—Shirley_smiled kindly. “No need for such formality, dear. It’s only right that we do this. If we’re welcoming you into the Crestwell family, you deserve to be treated with respect and dignity. Anything less would be unfair to you p>
Seren had grown up as the overlooked middle child, with two older brothers and a younger sister, rarely ever at her parents’ side. She’d always been the invisible one-never cherished, never spoiled by her family.
Even after her marriage to the Powers family, she’d never truly been recognized or valued. She had grown used to being ignored-used to being an afterthought. Now, faced with this unexpected consideration, she felt almost overwhelmed.
She barely managed, “Thank you, Mrs. Crestwell p>
She knew, rationally, this was what she deserved. Yet when it finally came, she could only accept it with careful politeness, as if afraid it might disappear.
Shirley watched her, a soft sigh in her heart. She felt a pang of sympathy for the young woman before her.
Seren was something of a notorious figure in Seaside City. Shirley had heard the rumors: once a bright,
promising girl, rebellious and headstrong, who fan off to
Riverbend City for a
man-unmarried, unrecognized, and
disregarded.
People gossiped that Seren had squandered every advantage she’d been given, the prime example mothers used to warn their daughters. But Shirley saw through the talk.
It wasn’t that Seren was wayward; it was that her parents had failed her. If a girl grew up knowing love was abundant, she wouldn’t sacrifice everything for the mere promise of it.
Thankfully, hardship had only dulled her brilliance, not destroyed it. Shirley had never doubted her son’s judgment.
“Come inside,” Lennon said. “Old Mr. Rutledge must be getting impatient p>
Seren had been lost in her thoughts until Lennon prompted her softly, reminding her that her grandfather was awaiting their arrival.
Shirley led the way, with Seren and Lennon following side by side. They crossed a corner where a stone
fountain carved with lifelike liliponet
trickled water into a clear pool. Pluma glossy goldfish fattened on Seren’s careful feeding-darted up to greet her, their mouths opening and closing as if in recognition.
As they stepped around a delicate folding screen, Seren spotted Old Mr. Rutledge seated by the tea table. He was frail, hair white, but his eyes still shone with sharp vitality.
“Grandpa!” Seren called out, her voice bright and clear.
He hadn’t seen Seren in three years, and though his joy was evident, he couldn’t resist a fond scolding.