Chapter Ten
The Trio
After their visit to England, Daniel and Elza returned to Europe.
Something in Daniel had steadied.
He began attending his royal classes properly again.
Sword practice.
History lessons.
Political studies.
He still passed by the vanilla plant sometimes.
But he no longer stood there for long.
Time, as it always does, moved quietly.
A year passed.
In France, things had changed too.
Noah often visited England to see her grandfather — the retired chief soldier. During those visits, she spent time with someone very familiar.
Jack.
Prince Jackson Henry.
They had known each other since they were small — running through English gardens, arguing over who could climb trees faster, competing over the smallest things.
When the new school year began in France, something unexpected happened.
A new student joined Noah's higher grade class.
Prince Jackson Henry.
Jack.
Whispers filled the corridors.
"A prince?" "From England?" "Why is he here?"
But Jack walked through the halls like it was normal.
Because for him, it was.
He had decided — or perhaps insisted — on studying in France for a while. His mother had agreed.
The first day, Noah spotted him immediately.
"You followed me," she accused.
Jack smirked. "You wish."
Their bickering began instantly, like it had never stopped.
That afternoon, Noah dragged Jack toward Clare.
"This is Clare," she said proudly. "She came from Wilson."
Jack studied Clare carefully.
"You're the quiet one," he said.
Clare blinked. "I am not quiet."
Jack raised an eyebrow.
Noah crossed her arms. "She isn't. You're just loud."
Clare tried not to laugh.
From that day on, the three of them began walking to school together.
At first, it was awkward.
Jack teased too much.
Noah argued too fast.
Clare observed too quietly.
But slowly, the balance formed.
Jack would compete with Noah over everything — running races, grades, who answered first in class.
Noah would challenge him back without fear.
And Clare?
She became the middle ground.
The one who laughed first.
The one who explained misunderstandings.
The one who listened.
If Jack was fire and Noah was spark, Clare was calm water between them.
Weeks turned into months.
They studied together.
Shared snacks.
Walked home after school.
Sometimes they sat under a large tree near the park, talking about random things — teachers they disliked, future dreams, strange ideas.
Jack once declared, "One day I'll change something big."
Noah replied, "You can't even change your handwriting."
Clare laughed so hard she nearly dropped her book.
As the months passed, something else happened quietly.
Clare stopped thinking about her old academy every day.
Stopped looking at the sky and wondering what Daniel was doing.
Stopped counting church masses.
France no longer felt temporary.
It felt real.
Her French improved.
Her laughter became easier.
Her steps more confident.
One evening, as the trio walked home, Jack suddenly said, "We're the best group in this school."
Noah rolled her eyes. "You mean I am."
Clare smiled.
Jack pointed at both of them. "No. The three of us."
Clare looked at them.
And for the first time since leaving Europe, she didn't feel like she was between two worlds.
She felt like she was exactly where she was supposed to be.
And somewhere far away—
The vanilla plant in Europe continued to grow.
Unwatched.
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