Wisteria Rosier
Elias Rosier pov:
As the first light of dawn filtered through the birthing room, a soft cry pierced the air, announcing the arrival of a new life. The tiny babe, swaddled in a delicate blanket, was cradled in her mother’s arms, her features still glistening with the remnants of birth.
Elias stared into his little daughter's eyes. They were a deep, jewel-like blue, reminiscent of the clearest summer sky or the tranquil depths of a sapphire sea. The irises were framed by long, dark lashes accentuating their brilliance, creating a striking contrast that draws attention to their vivid hue.
He remembered these eyes—the ones in the paintings. Alethia's eyes.
Lord Felix Rosier inspected the newborn child, his expression very serious.
"Aletheia's eyes," he whispered.
It was indeed not usual. Alethia I Pharos was the one to be blessed with these eyes, centuries before. They hadn't been common even in the Pharos family, only appearing six times before. Alethiea III Rosier née Pharos was the last one to possess them.
These eyes could not only distinguish truth from lies but also show someone's reality, the truth that they hid.
"This must remain a secret," his father said. "Or the child would be in danger."
"Yes father," he replied. While Tom was his friend and he had supported his cause, he could not put his daughter in any danger.
The child stared at him, her eyes softening as if she understood his reasoning and was pleased. He chuckled and gently pressed his lips to her forehead.