New World with Four Husbands-Chapter 583: A conversation over framed pictures

The next morning arrived quietly, pale sunlight filtering through the curtains as Cleora stirred awake.

Sleep still clung to her, making her movements slow and deliberate as she blinked away the remnants of dreams, then she turned her head slightly, her gaze softening instantly when she noticed Coco curled tightly against her.

Her daughter’s breathing was steady, her dark hair splayed messily across the pillow.

A fond smile tugged at Cleora’s lips.

Just like when she was little.

The memory flashed in her mind— Coco as a child, always clinging to her in sleep, as if even in dreams she feared separation.

Cleora hesitated, then carefully brushed a stray lock of hair from Coco’s face, her touch feather-light.

After a good second, Cleora finally found the will to slip quietly out of bed, careful not to disturb Coco’s sleep, the need for water growing apparent.

She stretched her limbs first before she padded silently toward the door, a faint headache already pulsing at her temples, a thought crossed her mind— coffee.

She could really go for a cup of coffee.

Stepping into the hallway, she paused, getting her bearings. Right. Downstairs. The kitchen. A part of her felt out of place here— a fish out of water in a strange house, but the lure of caffeine was strong.

Cleora padded quietly down the hall, her eyes darting around the place with curiosity.

It was small, yes, but it was cozy and warm— nothing like the grand halls and towering ceilings she was used to in her castle up north.

She ran a hand along the wall, her fingers tracing the smooth surface as she took in every detail.

She walked further close to the staircase and that’s when her eyes landed on framed pictures on top of a drawer— were they of Coco and her husbands? She felt a pang of curiosity at the thought.

Cleora slowed to a stop in front of a picture, fixated on the image of Coco captured there.

Her daughter was in the middle of laughing, hugging a large rabbit. The wind had caught her hair, whipping it across her face, and there was a carefree joy in her smile that made Cleora’s heart ache to see it.

This was her daughter— happy, carefree.

The scene was set in a meadow, wildflowers in full bloom as far as the eye could see, and the sun shone bright in the sky, capturing the joy on Coco’s face.

Tap, tap, tap.

Cleora’s head snapped up at the sound of a creaking floorboard, her heart suddenly pounding at the suddenness of it.

Turning, her gaze fell upon the brown-haired husband of her daughter standing there.

He was tall, slightly shorter than Coco’s other husbands, and it was clear that he had just woken up— still half-asleep, his hair messy, the lines of a pillow still creased in his cheek.

He froze when he saw Cleora, surprise and wariness flashing in his brown eyes.

Cleora cleared her throat, chuckling nervously as the mediator stared at her. "Good morning! I, uh, s-sorry, I was just.. Looking at Coco’s picture."

She gestured to the photo still in her hand. "I was on my way to the kitchen and saw this.."

Cleora gave him a sheepish smile, hoping she didn’t seem too intrusive, this is not her home, but her daughter’s after all.

Heiren rubbed his eyes, his expression softening slightly as he shook off the rest of sleep.

"It’s fine, mother." He assured Cleora, giving her a small smile. "I was the one who put up that picture.. But I don’t think Coco has noticed it yet. I’m very glad you like them."

Cleora returned his smile, feeling a little more at ease.

"Oh, they’re lovely." She mumbled, her gaze drifting back to the photo again. "She looks so happy in this one."

Heiren nodded, stepping closer to Cleora with a quiet ease, and he reached out, his fingers brushing against another framed photo— one slightly smaller, tucked beside the first.

"These were taken by Sinclair." He explained, voice warm with amusement. "He gave them to me when they got back home that day."

His thumb traced the edge of the frame as he smiled to himself. "She looked quite adorable in it so I figured, why not put them up around the house for our potential guests to see how beautiful she could be?"

Then, a playful glint flickered in his tired eyes as he glanced at Cleora. "..Even if she hasn’t noticed yet."

Cleora huffed a quiet laugh, shaking her head, but there was something undeniably fond in the gesture. ".. She was always terrible at noticing things right in front of him.

Heiren grinned, like he’d just been handed a secret, and agreed softly. "Yeah. She really is."

Cleora arched an eyebrow, a knowing smirk tugging at her lips, as she snapped her eyes at the grinning mediator.

"Oh, you agreed with me." She mused, voice lilting with amusement. "But you meant it for other things, didn’t you? I know my own daughter, and I could tell it took a while for her to notice."

The glint in her eyes was unmistakable. It was teasing, yes, but also sharp. She could read between the lines.

Heiren’s grin faltered for half a second before settling into something more sheepish— like a boy caught with his hand in the cookie jar, and now, feeling like he was on time out.

".. Maybe." He admitted, scratching the back of his neck.

Cleora snorted.

"Men." She muttered under her breath, but there was no real bite to it.

It was just the resigned amusement of a mother who knew exactly what her daughter had gotten herself into.

Heiren gave Cleora a glance, his cheeks puffed out into a pout. "You know your daughter well, so I’m sure that you already know that she can be very oblivious."

Cleora laughed. "That’s putting it mildly."

Heiren nodded, exhaling dramatically as he ran a hand through his hair.