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“Last, but not least,” I say, handing her the third box.
Silvia looks up at me in wonder. “You didn’t have to do this,” she murmurs, the emotion in her voice striking straight to my core.
“I know. I wanted to.”
“Well, thank you.”
I chuckle. “You haven’t even opened your last gift yet.”
She laughs. “I know. But still, this means a lot.”
“I’m glad.”
With that, Silvia opens the third box, revealing a smaller velvet one inside. About the size of a chocolate bar, it’s pretty apparent that the third gift is jewelry. But still, she gasps when she opens it.
“Where did you get these?” she breathes, lifting one of the chandelier earrings from its case.
Like her dress, delicate strings of cherry blossoms dangle from the intricate vines that make up the jewelry’s structure. Only these flowers are made of painted gold and diamonds.
She slips one into each ear before extracting the matching bracelet.
“May I?” I offer as she attempts to clasp it around her wrist one-handed.
She extends the wrist to me, and I latch it for her.
Brimming with excitement, Silvia dashes to the full-length mirror tucked away in the closet to admire the completed outfit. Then she comes back to me a moment later.
“This is the most perfect gift. Thank you.” Her smile dazzles me for a moment; it’s so full of unbridled joy.
“You’re welcome,” I say this time.
Then I offer her my arm. “Ready?”
“Is it time already?” Silvia glances toward the clock in shock.
Six o’clock almost on the dot. It’s time.
When she slips her delicate–and freshly manicured–fingers around my bicep, I feel a stirring in my chest. For all the fury I’ve felt over being forced to marry someone, I’m coming to realize I might have struck gold when it comes to my betrothed.
Still, a nagging thought at the back of my head reminds me that this connection between us, this intense attraction that’s come on hard and fast, isn’t real. Because I’m still not being honest with Silvia.
Yesterday, when she showed me her artwork, I could see the effect I’ve had on her as plain as day. I hurt her. Deeply. I damn near broke her with the actions I took to help secure my family’s safety. And yet Silvia seems willing to put that behind us, to trust in me once more.
I all but promised I wouldn’t hurt her like that anymore.
But I will. I must.
Because we need her father’s cooperation, and for that, my mother is demanding I take her virginity. Pure, innocent Silvia, who dresses like a saint and balks at a backless dress. I know wearing the outfit I bought her is pushing her boundaries already. But it’s not the only line I’ll have to cross tonight. And I hate myself for it already.
* * *
“Dance with me,” I murmur, pressing my hand against the bare skin of Silvia’s back after the umpteenth high society couple congratulates us on our engagement and departs to the buffet table.
Countless people have paraded in front of Silvia and me over the past two hours, introducing themselves and praising us on such a fine match. A formality I have gritted my teeth through as I’ve tried not to punch anyone in the face.
And Silvia endured it all.
Rather than the shy girl who blushes at my crass humor or balks at her most minor faux pas, this new side of my betrothed is something to behold. Like a true-to-life princess, she has held herself with dignity. Maintaining polite conversation, she has proved warm and engaging, enduring excruciating drivel from our guests.
