Chapter 36: Love’s Reckoning

The firelight cast a golden glow across the private dining hall, flickering against the walls lined with books and framed memories of a past I wished to leave behind. Tonight was not about the past.

Tonight was about her.

I had spent the entire day ensuring everything was perfect. The scent of lavender and jasmine—her favorites—hung in the air. A table set for two, adorned with soft candlelight and the finest crystal. A bottle of wine from the Cavendish cellars, aged to perfection.

It was a feeble attempt, I knew. One night could not erase the ghosts of my family, nor could it undo the weight of the diary she had read.

But I needed her to see—to understand—that I was not my father. That this was different.

That I loved her.