~ Gideon ~
The ballroom of the Grand Hotel was a sea of shimmering silk and sharp wool, but my eyes were fixed on only one person. Amara stood under the massive crystal chandeliers, looking nothing like the woman I had married by contract. She wasn't the "little mouse" my cousin Selene liked to mock, nor was she the ghost that used to haunt the hallways of Moore Crest in silence. She wore a gown that caught the light with every move, but it was her posture that truly held my attention. Her shoulders were square, her chin was high, and she moved with a confidence that didn't need my permission to exist.
I stood by the edge of the bar, my hand tight around a glass of scotch I hadn't tasted. I watched as a cluster of reporters surrounded her. In the past, she would have shrunk away from the
