Chapter 76: The Place She Calls Home

Chapter 76: Chapter 76: The Place She Calls Home

Emiliana led him out through a set of glass doors at the back of the mansion, and the noise of the house, quiet as it already was, dropped away almost entirely once they stepped outside.

The courtyard opened up in front of them, enclosed on three sides by the mansion itself, greenery arranged with the same careful precision as everything else Garrett had seen so far. A stone path wound through it, bordered by flowerbeds trimmed into neat shapes, a fountain somewhere off to the side providing the only real sound besides their footsteps and the occasional bird settling into one of the hedges.

"This part’s quieter than I expected," Garrett said, glancing around.

"That’s the point." Emiliana walked slowly, unhurried, hands loosely clasped in front of her. "Most of the house is built to be seen. This part was built to be used."

"Big difference, really."

"You’d be surprised how few rooms in this place actually get lived in."

They walked in comfortable silence for a moment, the path curving them further from the house, deeper into the greenery.

"So," Garrett said eventually. "Out of everything here. What’s actually your favorite place?"

Emiliana considered it, longer than the question probably warranted.

"There’s a spot near the old greenhouse," she said finally. "Past the hedges, toward the east side."

Garrett raised an eyebrow. "The greenhouse? Not the cinema. Not whatever ridiculous room I haven’t seen yet."

"Not the cinema."

"Why there?"

"Because it’s mine," she said simply.

"That’s not an explanation."

"It’s the only one you’re getting."

Garrett studied her for a second, catching the small, private smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.

"You’re doing that thing again," he said.

"What thing?"

"Where you say something interesting and then immediately refuse to explain it."

"It’s a personality trait." She glanced at him, amusement flickering behind the composure. "You’ll understand eventually. Maybe."

"Maybe."

"If you’re patient."

"I’m famously patient."

"You are famously not patient," she said, laughing. "But I’ll let you pretend otherwise for now."

The path eventually opened into a wider garden, less structured than the courtyard, trees providing patches of shade over benches scattered along the walkway. Emiliana led him toward one, settling onto it, and Garrett sat beside her, in no particular hurry to keep moving.

"Okay," she said. "Tell me something."

"Something like what?"

"Anything. I’ve been talking the entire tour. I want to know more about you."

Garrett considered that for a minute. "Honestly? I still don’t know what I actually want to do after university. Everyone talks about it like it’s obvious once you get close enough to graduating. It isn’t."

Emiliana glanced at him, something genuine in her attention now. "Okay, wait, I thought that was just me."

"You don’t know either?"

"I know what’s expected of me. That’s different from knowing what I actually want." She looked out toward the hedges, quiet for a second. "It’s kind of wild, actually. Most people my age get to be uncertain about their future in private. Mine’s been decided by other people since before I could really object to it."

Garrett didn’t rush to fill the silence that followed. "Is there anything you actually want? If none of that was in the way."

"Honestly? No idea." She let out a small breath, almost a laugh, though there wasn’t much humor in it. "I’ve spent so long being told what my life looks like that I don’t even know how to want something outside of it. It’s a whole thing."

"That’s not nothing, though. Knowing that much."

"Maybe." She looked at him properly now. "What about you? If money wasn’t a factor anymore, what would you actually want to be doing?"

Garrett took a moment with that, turning it over honestly instead of reaching for something easy. "Probably wouldn’t change that much, honestly. I liked the version of myself that just quietly figured things out on his own. Just didn’t have the room to do more with it before."

"And now you do."

"Now I do. Still figuring out what that actually looks like, though."

"Welcome to the club," she said, a wry edge in it now. "Membership’s exhausting. Zero perks."

Garrett almost smiled at that. "What about relationships? Before all this. Anyone serious?"

Emiliana considered the question longer than he expected. "One. Ended badly. Turns out he cared way more about what my family could do for him than anything about me specifically. Took me longer than I’d like to admit to actually clock that."

"You?"

"One. Ended for less complicated reasons, She just didn’t want to be with me anymore. At least she was honest about it. Eventually."

"Eventually," Emiliana repeated, catching the weight in the word. "Okay, that’s giving there’s a story there."

"There’s a longer story."

"I’ll take the short version someday."

"Maybe."

"That’s my line, actually."

"I’m allowed to borrow it."

She laughed properly at that, the sound loosening something in the conversation again. "Okay, real question. What do you actually do when things get hard? Like, genuinely hard, not just annoying."

Garrett considered it. "Go quiet, mostly. Try to figure it out on my own before I say anything to anyone about it. Not exactly a healthy coping mechanism, I know."

"At least you’re self-aware about it."

"Self-aware doesn’t mean I’ve fixed it."

"No," she agreed. "It never does." She pulled her knees up slightly, arms wrapped loosely around them. "I do the opposite, honestly. I just keep moving. Overbook myself so I don’t actually have to sit with whatever’s bothering me."

"Does that actually work?"

"For a bit. Then it catches up eventually. It always does."

They kept going like that, the conversation drifting into steadier, more honest territory than either of them had probably planned on when they’d sat down. Garrett found himself listening more than talking, content to let her fill in details that had nothing to do with the Vane name, real uncertainties and regrets rather than the careful, composed version of herself she likely showed most people.

Eventually they moved back inside, Emiliana leading him through a different wing of the house entirely, past a set of doors that opened into what she called, with visible amusement at his expression, her private lounge.

Garrett stopped just inside the doorway.

The room was easily the size of his entire apartment, low seating arranged around a fireplace that looked like it had never actually needed to be lit for warmth, a wall of shelves holding books, framed photographs.

"This is your lounge," Garrett said slowly. "Like just for you?"

"Correct."

"It’s bigger than my entire flat."

"Well...probably."

"No. Definitely. This is unhinged, honestly."

She grinned, clearly enjoying his reaction more than she was bothered by the comment. "Come on. Wait until you see the cinema."

The cinema, a few doors down, made the lounge look modest by comparison. Rows of plush reclining seats faced a screen that dominated the entire far wall, complete with a popcorn machine that Garrett eyed with open suspicion.

"You have a popcorn machine," he said. "In your house."

"We do."

"That feels unnecessary."

"It’s extremely necessary. Have you ever tried microwave popcorn after using one of these? Not the same experience. Not even close."

"I feel like most people manage fine without a personal cinema to compare it against."

"Most people are missing out, then. Not my problem."

Garrett shook his head slightly, more amused than anything, taking in the absurd scale of the room without letting it actually rattle him. "This is a lot."

"It is."

"Do you even use it?"

"Sometimes. Usually alone." She shrugged, something a little quieter creeping into her tone. "It’s less fun when there’s nobody to actually enjoy it with."

Garrett glanced at her. "Well. Guess that’s changing for a few days."

Something in her expression warmed at that, genuine rather than performed. "Guess it is."

They stood there a moment longer, Garrett taking in the room, Emiliana taking in him taking it in, clearly enjoying watching him process her world without pretending to be either impressed or intimidated by it.

They wandered back toward the quieter part of the house eventually, the earlier energy of the tour settling into something calmer, more relaxed, the two of them walking without any particular destination in mind now.

It wasn’t until they’d passed another long, empty corridor that Garrett actually registered something.

He hadn’t seen her father at all. Not that he’d been looking forward to it, exactly, but for a house this large, with this many people quietly working through it, the absence of the man who apparently ran all of it felt strange now that he actually thought about it.

"I haven’t seen your father," Garrett said, casual, the question sliding out before he’d fully considered whether it was the right moment to ask it. "Where is he?"

The shift was small, but Garrett caught it immediately.

Emiliana’s pace slowed by half a step, her expression flickering through something quick and complicated before settling back into careful composure.

"He’s..." She paused, choosing the next word with visible care. "Away. For work."

"Away where?"

"It’s complicated," she said, the same careful vagueness sitting behind it now.

Garrett studied her, the easy warmth from the last hour cooling slightly at the edges.

The silence that followed sat heavier than anything from earlier in the tour, the quiet corridor around them suddenly feeling a lot less comfortable than it had a few minutes ago.