"A toast to my lovely wife," Riley said warmly, raising his glass of deep red wine toward Iris.
Iris smiled, her lips curving softly as she accepted the offered glass.
The two newlyweds sat together at a small round table near their grand matrimonial bed—its crimson sheets and golden embroidery glittering faintly in the candlelight.
The entire room was filled with the fragrance of burning incense and roses, creating an intoxicating blend that made the night feel timeless and sacred.
"One of your wives, you mean," Iris teased, her tone light yet laced with something unspoken.
"I'll never understand why men feel the need to collect women like treasures."
Riley chuckled, amused. "You say that as if you weren't the one who walked into my life and offered yourself to me, darling."
Her expression softened for a moment as she swirled the wine in her glass, watching the liquid shimmer in the light.
"Perhaps I did," she murmured.
