The scent of lilies, Amara's favorite still filled the air. On her finger, the diamond, the size of a teardrop caught the moon light, its brilliance mocking the dull ache in her heart.
"Thanks for backing me back then... I really appreciate it, Julian," Amara whispered. Her eyes drifted to the ring. It felt heavy, a symbol of a future she wasn't sure she was allowed to have. She began to tug at it, her knuckles white, but the band wouldn't budge. It was as if the ring itself had decided it belonged there.
"I was serious about the proposal," Julian said, his voice a steady anchor in the room. He didn't look at the ring; he looked only at her. "And my family consents, too."
He glanced toward the corner of the room where his mother, Madam Vale, sat with the poise of a queen. She offered Amara a warm, genuine smile. "I approve, dear. More than you know."
