Kane sat stiffly, his fingers tapping against the polished table in a restless rhythm.
The romantic atmosphere—the lantern light swaying in the night air, the flowers brushing with fragrance, the soft hum of strings—only made his heart pound harder.
His mind was a storm of ridiculous possibilities.
What if she suddenly comes in and declares she wants to spar?
He could almost see her already, striding in with that stern look in her amber eyes, challenging him right here at the dinner table to tease him.
Or worse. What if she introduces someone her aunt has picked for her?
The very thought made his jaw tighten, anger flaring before he could smother it.
Then a softer, wilder thought.
What if… she's here to tell him that she loves him out loud?
His chest tightened so sharply he almost groaned aloud, but then the thought twisted into territory that made his ears burn and his stomach lurch.
He scrubbed a hand over his face.
"This is absurd," he muttered under his breath, shaking his head.
Then—footsteps. Distinct, measured, drawing closer.
Kane rose to his feet instinctively, pulse thrumming. He took a step forward, as though pulled by invisible strings.
And then he saw her.
Arasha stepped into the garden pavilion, the indigo starlight gown shimmering as if woven from twilight itself.
Her black hair, threaded with silver pins and crowned with a crescent comb, caught the lantern light with every subtle movement.
Her amber eyes gleamed softly, calm and resolute, and when she smiled—gods above, when she smiled—his mind emptied in a single shattering moment.
Kane froze where he stood, struck silent.
His lips parted, but words tumbled and caught, useless against the sheer enchantment of her presence.
His face flushed so deeply he felt it burn all the way to his ears.
Arasha, seeing him struggle like a boy lost for words, chuckled softly.
Without hesitation, she closed the distance, slipped her hand into his, and tilted her head.
"Shall we have dinner?"
Kane could only nod, still rooted to the spot, his eyes following her as though he couldn't blink.
Arasha gently tugged him toward the table, her composure carrying them both.
"Sit," she said, smiling as the maid brought forward the first course. Her tone was amused, teasing.
"You look handsome tonight, Kane. Too bad your puppy-like behavior makes you cute rather than cool."
That jab snapped him back to his senses. Kane coughed, straightened, and retorted with a grin that was more bashful than confident.
"Well, I am your loyal dog, aren't I? What else can I do but act like one?"
Arasha's smile softened.
As the maid set the dishes before them, she looked him directly in the eyes and said simply,
"No, Kane. You're not my puppy. You're my true love."
The words struck him so hard his throat tightened.
Heat rose again to his face, and he had to glance away, grabbing his wineglass just to keep his composure.
He took a long sip, but his hand trembled faintly against the stem.
Arasha laughed lightly, easing the sudden tension.
"Come now, let's not let the food get cold."
So they ate. Between bites, Arasha recounted her day with Valmira, weaving humor into her stories of shopping, trying on dresses and accessories, and even their little stop at the café.
She skillfully omitted any mention of her true preparations, but Kane didn't notice.
He was too caught by the cadence of her voice, the curve of her smile, the way their gazes kept meeting across the table.
Every time their eyes locked, something fluttered in his chest, and he found himself wishing he had put more effort into his hair, his attire, everything.
The meal wound down into a warm silence, not heavy but comfortable—like two heartbeats slowly finding the same rhythm.
At last, dessert arrived: a single plate carrying a light, golden piece of soufflé cheesecake.
Arasha pushed it gently toward Kane. "I couldn't resist bringing this back. I wanted you to try it."
Kane lifted his fork, cutting a small piece. He held it up, then looked across the table. "Open your mouth."
Arasha blinked, then complied, allowing him to feed her the bite.
Her lips curved as she chewed, then she promptly returned the gesture, spearing her own small piece and offering it to him. "Your turn."
The exchange left Kane with only half his portion, but Arasha, in her quiet way, nudged the rest toward him until he had a full share.
He chuckled at her sly generosity, then took a bite, savoring it.
Sweet, delicate, with a melt that was softer than air.
But even as the flavor lingered, it was nothing compared to the sight of Arasha watching him, her smile gentle, her eyes warm.
Kane felt laughter bubble up in his chest, quiet but full.
He ate the rest of the cake happily, unable to look away from her glowing expression.
At that moment, he didn't care what had led them here—the battles, the pain, the tragedies behind them.
For Kane, it was enough that she was here, smiling, with him.
The last of the dishes had been cleared away, the candles burned low but steady, and the faint notes of music drifted across the garden.
Arasha heard it first, her sharp ears catching the melody that her aunt must have arranged for this night.
A grin spread across her face.
She pushed back her chair and rose with sudden energy.
Kane immediately mirrored her, standing as though ready for battle, though he had no idea why.
Then, before he could ask, Arasha stepped close, swept the skirt of her indigo gown lightly with one hand, and dipped in a graceful curtsy.
"Sir Kane," she said, voice warm with mirth, "will you grant me this dance?"
Kane blinked, caught off guard. For a beat, he only stared, before his lips tugged into an incredulous smile.
"A dance…?"
"Yes," Arasha replied firmly, extending her hand.
"It would be a waste not to, when my aunt prepared such lovely music for us."
A soft laugh escaped him, shaking his head.
Still, he took her hand, his fingers closing around hers as though it were the most natural thing in the world.
He leaned down, voice low. "What are you planning now?"
Arasha's grin deepened, her amber eyes glinting with mischief and something softer beneath.
"To surprise you."
And so, in the middle of the glowing garden pavilion, beneath the sweep of stars, they began to dance.
The rhythm was slow, intimate, their steps weaving together like threads pulled taut and true.
At first, it was just movement. But then Arasha's voice, quiet and steady, broke the silence.
"Do you know," she said, her gaze lifting to his, "how grateful I am that you were there every time I needed someone to lean on?"
Kane's chest tightened, his hand on her back holding her a fraction closer.
He didn't answer, letting her words flow.
She continued, voice trembling with both strength and vulnerability.
"Through every battle… through every moment when I nearly broke apart… you were there. Fighting beside me. Seeking me out. Holding on when I was fraying."
Her eyes glistened as she searched his face. "And yet… I broke so many promises to you. Do you remember them?"
Kane's throat felt too tight to speak. He only nodded faintly.
Arasha whispered them aloud, her voice catching.
"I said I should protect that spark in you. Not fan it into flame until you burned out. And yet, I failed.
I promised never to go alone. But I did.
When you said, 'You don't always have to walk toward the fire alone,' I still went."
Kane closed his eyes.
The weight of her words was too close to the wound still inside him.
Silent tears slipped free, hot against his cheeks.
"And then I left you," Arasha breathed, her own tears welling. "I died. And it was you who carried that pain."
She stopped moving, cupping his face gently between her palms.
His tears met hers, salt and grief and love tangled together.
"I'm sorry," she whispered. "And thank you… for never letting go."
Kane leaned into her touch, trembling.
His hand came up to cover hers, strong and tender, as if anchoring himself to the warmth of her presence.
Arasha brushed away his tears with her thumb, her lips curving into a fragile smile.
"Kane… I love you."
For a heartbeat, the world seemed to still.
Then his voice, rough and raw, answered her.
"I love you too."
Her smile brightened through the shimmer of tears.
She drew a breath, steadying herself, and asked, clear and true,
"Then… will you marry me?"
Kane's eyes widened, shock breaking through the haze of emotion.
He blinked, as though to make sure he'd heard right.
Then, overwhelmed, laughter burst from him—helpless, joyous, unguarded.
"Yes," he said, laughing even as tears still streaked his cheeks.
"Yes, Arasha."
And before she could speak another word, he pulled her in, lips meeting hers in a kiss that sealed every promise unspoken and spoken, every vow broken and mended anew.
Under the stars, with the music wrapping around them like a blessing, they held each other close.
For the first time, neither of them looked toward the fire nor the storm—only toward the life that awaited them, side by side.