It was Cahir.
The crowd around me parted in slow awe as he walked towards me.
He looked nothing like the chubby, scared boy who used to follow me around when we were kids, the one who'd hide behind my legs whenever the bigger children picked on him.
This man was tall and broad-shouldered, wearing his tailored suit as if it were made for him, his brown hair, which I remembered had been dyed to a deep blue, almost giving it a black appearance, but on closer inspection, it was blue.
When he reached me, he did something that made my breath catch in my throat.
He knelt.
Right there in front of everyone, he dropped to one knee like I was someone worth kneeling for, and reached for my hands with a gentleness that made my chest ache. His lips pressed against my knuckles, and when he looked up at me, his eyes were filled with concern that something inside me just broke.
"Hey princess," he said softly, his thumb brushing across my knuckles. "Are you hurt?"
