s for a wedding that felt more like a war council than a celebration. Servants rushed to and fro, arranging the feasts, sewing t

e like a prisoner in her own home. Her thoughts constantly drifted to Sir Gareth. The knight of Blackmoor had made no effort to speak with her beyond the formalities required for the betrot

Her every action was driven by duty, and the future she had once dreamed of was slipping further and further from he

ng breeze carrying the scent of lavender and fresh earth. The courtyard was quiet, save for the occasional rustle of leaves.

half-expecting to see Gwen or one of the servants, but instead, her gaze fell upon Sir Gareth. He stood at the edge of the garden, his tal

ce gentle but guarded. The words felt awkward on her tongu

ugh measuring her every word. "The garden is quiet," he replied, his

m like this, without the formalities and expectations that usually acco

ly with the movement. "I wanted to speak with you," he said,

ly, curiosity piqued. "S

ze drifting toward the distant hills. "We both understand the importance of this

eeze lifting her hair from her

ve been. And yet, duty alone will not bind us in the way we must be bound. If we are to move forward, to

ght's formality. "Trust?" she repeated, her voice barely a whisper. "How do you expect me to trust you, Sir Gareth? You are a stranger to me, a man bound by his o

ok a step closer, and for a moment, Eveline felt a shift in the air-a palpable tension

e not sought to hide it. But the vows I make now are not just to Blackmoor or to Ashford-th

meanor, stirred something within her-something she had tried to suppress. She had not expected this from him. She

voice barely above a whisper. "How can I? We a

her face. She had hoped to appear composed, to conceal the turmoil inside her, but perhaps

e low. "But I do ask for your patience. I will prove to you that I

that she could not allow herself to be drawn in, not now, not when her heart was so entangled in the fate of Ashf

swirling within her. "I do not know what the future holds, Sir Gareth. But I

at is all I ask. We will face what comes together, L

ing alone in the garden once more. She watched him disappear into the shadow

ossible that, despite his past and the coldness he wore like armor, there could be a part of him that was capable of warmth? Eveline could no

could not allow herself to fall for a man whose loyalty was first and foremost to his own cause. No matte

-

rs in the manor's great hall, overseeing the last-minute arrangements. Her father was a constant presen

herself outside, walking the garden paths where she had spoken with Gareth. There, in the solitude, she allowed

ney they were about to begin would not be without its trials. And