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"Sweetness, I think you're missing the larger picture," he said, sounding amused.
She clasped the ring in both hands, held in front of her lips like a prayer. "The picture?"
"I know convention has moved on, but I feel certain that this has not changed." Ethan reached for her hands. Reluctantly she allowed him to take the ring back. "Charlotte—"
"Yes," she said, the word escaping out of her.
"I appreciate the enthusiasm, sweetness, but indulge me. I spent far too long trying to compose the perfect proposal."
"Yes," she repeated.
"Screw it." He ran a hand through his short hair. "Would you marry me, again, in a church in front of your family and friends, for all to witness? Or a courthouse if you'd prefer. Or we could elope. Or we can carry on as we are now. I don't particularly care so long as you say you'll be mine."
"How is that even a question? Yes, of course, yes."
A smile of unadulterated joy spread across his face. He was always preternaturally beautiful, but this elevated him. Made him warm. Made him human. Heavens, she’d never tire of his smile.
"It's rather fast. Tongues will wag,” he warned. “We haven't courted for long but I'm tired of waiting for what's mine."
She thrilled to hear the possessive edge in his voice and thrust out her hand. "Let them talk. Show me my ring."
"It's nothing extravagant," he apologized as he slipped on a plain silver band. "I had Miles melt down your old dagger. That seemed fitting."
She agreed.
"It's lovely." She held the band up to the light. The polish metal gleamed. "Is this really from my dagger? You still had that?"
"I swore to bring it back to you."
Charlotte flung herself at him. They toppled onto the floor, laughing and kissing.
"It'll be such a scandal," she said, pausing the kisses long enough to speak.
“I'm always in the mood for a little scandal, sweetness."
Hal
He woke up in a snowbank. He should have stolen a pair of pants before he left the castle.
