I didn’t know that, of course.
I thought we were hosting a small dinner.
Harper and Luca.
My mother, in town again.
Aunt Mabel had flown down for the first time, declaring she wanted to see “this Southern palace” for herself.
The courtyard was strung with lights.
Not overdone.
Just enough to turn dusk into something suspended.
I wore a simple white dress—cotton, not silk. Barefoot again. Hair loose.
Cassian had been … quieter all day.
More watchful than usual.
I’d chalked it up to instinct.
Now, I know it was anticipation.
Dinner had been warm and loud. Harper arguing about something political. Luca mediating. My mother laughing. Aunt Mabel holding court like she owned the place.
At one point, I’d stepped into the house to grab another bottle of wine.
When I came back out, the courtyard was empty.
The table cleared.
The lights dimmed slightly.
My stomach flipped.
“Cassian?” I called.
The fountain still ran softly.
Then, I saw him.
Standing at the far end of the courtyard near the ivy-covered wall.
In a suit.
Not his usual quiet-dark uniform.
A deep charcoal that caught the light.
My pulse stuttered.
“What are you doing?” I asked, already breathless.
He didn’t answer immediately.
Instead, he walked toward me slowly.
