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AUTHOR’S POV
The sun was setting, casting a golden glow over the sprawling garden as Sloane sat on the marble bench, absently twirling a loose thread on her dress.
The sweet scent of blooming roses filled the air, but she barely noticed.
The maid beside her, an older woman with kind eyes, was speaking excitedly about the wedding preparations. Her voice was filled with warmth and joy, but Sloane only caught bits and pieces of her words.
“The dress is nearly finished, my lady. The finest silk, embroidered with pearls and delicate lace. You will look stunning, absolutely divine.”
Sloane gave a small, polite smile, nodding absentmindedly.
The truth was, she wasn’t really listening. Her mind was elsewhere.
She was thinking about Vincien, Damon, Vivian, Darlene, and Davian.
