I nod. “If you keep your promise.”
He smiles, the kind of smile that once made me flinch. But today, I let it happen. He takes my hand, lifting it to his lips, pressing a kiss to my knuckles like a knight swearing fealty. His touch sends a shiver up my arm—not of affection, but of calculation.
“This will be good for us,” he says, voice almost hopeful. “For both of us.”
I manage a small smile. “I believe that.”
He releases my hand but lingers near, his gaze softening. “You look beautiful today,” he murmurs. “That dress suits you.”
I glance down, letting the faintest blush creep onto my cheeks. “You picked it.”
“That I did,” he says, pleased. “I always knew you’d wear them eventually.”
He sits beside me, pouring tea from the pot on the tray. His movements are precise, deliberate, as i
