Fifty-eight: Torches to touches

Penthurst Manor

It was Friday night. Summer had given way to a wonderful weather: warm mornings and slightly chilly evening. Clouds cleared just in time for the moon to rise and had bestowed the world with its heartwarming glow.

The musicians played a slow song. Giving them a rhythm to follow—not with their ears but with their hearts. Two silhouettes mingled under the moonlight. Their bodies closer than ever, as if moving a further meant they'd lose each other.

As the song came to its end their gazes locked intently. Cerulean against amber. A Lord to its Lady. And a man to his wife. He bent down and claimed the welcoming lips offered to him.

Everyone applauded.

***

Before the dancing...

Krista's pov