The grand chandelier casts a golden glow across the ballroom, the soft strains of a waltz filling the air. I see her across the room before anyone else—her presence commands attention even among the sea of nobles and dignitaries. I’ve known this moment would come; the way she moves, the way she laughs, it all draws me in like gravity.

I approach her, careful to make my steps sound effortless, my eyes never leaving hers. My hand reaches for hers, and as our fingers intertwine, the world seems to contract until it’s only us.

“You look radiant tonight,” I murmur, my voice low enough that it’s just between us. “Even amidst all this opulence, you are… unmistakably the brightest light.”

Her eyes meet mine, a spark of amusement, of understanding, and of something softer I don’t often allow myself to feel. I can feel the weight of the engagement between us—not a chain, but a bond we both recognize, one that sets us apart from the rest of the crowd.

The orchestra swells, and I guide her into a dance, our bodies moving in perfect harmony. I feel the familiar pulse of control, the instinct to protect, to dominate, tempered by the way her hand rests against my chest. She trusts me in a way few ever will.

“Do you feel it?” I ask quietly, leaning just close enough that my words brush against her ear. “The way the room fades when we are together? No one else exists but us.”

Her laughter, soft and genuine, is the only answer I need. It settles something in me that has always been restless, even during the loops, even through the countless games of fate. With her here, I can let the world wait.