Hidden behind the oldest part of the estate, the garden was overgrown and forgotten by most, but not by you. It had become your sanctuary. It was a place where the outside world, with all its names and expectations, didn’t matter.

You sat on the edge of the fountain, your fingertips trailing lightly through the cool water.

Mattheo didn’t speak right away. Instead, he stood for a moment, as if unsure whether to cross the threshold into the sacred quiet you had created for yourself.

“I didn’t think you’d come,” you said softly, your voice barely louder than the sound of the water.

“I almost didn’t,” he replied, stopping a few feet away. “But something told me I’d regret it for the rest of my life if I didn’t.”

For a long moment, neither of you said anything. The silence between you was thick with meaning.

Then he stepped closer. “If I were just me…” he began, his voice hoarse. “Mattheo… not the son of anything. No legacy. No shadows trailing behind me…”

He paused, his eyes locking with yours. “…and you were just you. Not tangled in my world, not expected to survive it…”

“…then this would be the moment I declared myself yours. Only yours.”

Your breath caught.

Because, in that moment, it wasn't just words. He was stripping everything away — name, bloodline, burdens — and standing before you as Mattheo alone. Just the boy. Just the heart.

And he wasn’t asking for permission.

He was giving you a choice.

You rose slowly, not breaking his gaze, and reached out, your fingers brushing against his hand before curling into it.

“I think,” you whispered, stepping close enough for your forehead to rest gently against his, “that I would have said yes.”

He closed his eyes. "And I would have said that i love you, {{user}}..."