"Ouch." But Daisy was smiling. "Fair, but ouch."
"Now help me find my shoes before I completely fall apart."
Twenty minutes later, she stood in front of her bedroom mirror, hardly recognizing herself. The burgundy dress fit like it had been made for her, skimming her curves without clinging, the color bringing out the green of her eyes and the warm undertones of her skin. Daisy had talked her into leaving her hair down—"just this once, darling, you have such lovely waves"—and the effect was softer than her usual practical braid.
She looked like someone who belonged at a festival. Not hiding in the corner managing spreadsheets, but actually present. Visible.
Chosen,a small voice whispered.
"Stop fussing," Daisy commanded, appearing behind her with a pair of elegant flats that had materialized from somewhere—probably the mysterious depths of her own luggage. "You look beautiful. That satyr is going to lose his mind."
"That's not—I'm not trying to?—"
"Of course you're not. You never try to do anything for yourself." Daisy's reflection smiled at her in the mirror. "Which is why it's so delightful when good things happen to you anyway. Now go. You're going to be late."
The vineyard had been transformed.
She paused at the entrance to the main festival grounds, drinking in the sight. Strings of paper lanterns crisscrossed overhead, dormant now but ready to glow once twilight fell. Vendor booths lined the main pathway, already bustling with merchants arranging their wares—handmade jewelry, local honey, pottery from the studio on Oak Street, and what appeared to be an entire tent dedicated to cheese.
Beyond the booths, the central clearing had been set up for dancing. A raised platform at one end held instruments and chairs for the various musicians scheduled throughout the day. The stage where she and Thallos would perform the opening dance occupied the center, its polished wooden surface gleaming in the morning sun.
Everywhere she looked, she saw the evidence of their planning. The color-coded notebook had come to life—each zone exactly where it should be, each vendor in their assigned spot, the flow of foot traffic considered and optimized.
And threading through it all, like blood through veins, were her flowers. Wildflower arrangements on every table. Garlands draped from booth to booth. A magnificent arch of roses and wisteria framing the entrance to the dance floor.
I did this,she thought, wonder and terror mingling in equal measure.We did this.
"There you are!"
Thallos emerged from the crowd, and her heart did something complicated in her chest.
He looked… gods, he looked incredible. He'd traded his usual casual attire for something more formal—a deep burgundy shirt that matched her dress and made his golden-browneyes practically glow and soft black trousers that somehow accommodated his satyr legs without looking ridiculous. His horns had been oiled until they gleamed, curling elegantly above his pointed ears.
But it was his expression that made her breath catch. The way he looked at her—like she was the only person in a crowd of hundreds, like the rest of the world had simply ceased to exist.
"You're so beautiful." His voice came out rough, almost reverent. "Marigold, you're?—"
"Don't." She could feel herself blushing, the heat climbing up her neck. "You'll make me nervous."
"You're already nervous." He closed the distance between them, his hands finding her waist with familiar ease. "I can tell by the way you're holding your breath."
"I'm not—" She realized she was, in fact, holding her breath, and let it out in a rush. "Fine. I'm terrified. There are so many people, and the dance is in an hour, and what if I trip, or forget the steps, or?—"
"You won't."
"You don't know that."
"I do." His thumb traced circles against her hip, grounding her. "I've watched you practice. I've held you while you danced. You know these steps better than you know your own name."
"That's not?—"
"And even if you did trip." He leaned closer, his breath warm against her ear. "Even if you forgot every step we've ever practiced. I would catch you. I would guide you. And no onewatching would know anything had gone wrong, because all they'd see is two people who fit together perfectly."
She wanted to argue. She wanted to point out all the ways things could go wrong, all the potential disasters lurking in the shadows of the beautiful setup surrounding them.
But he was looking at her with such certainty. Such faith.
I choose you.
