"You're trembling," Cedric said softly, his voice barely louder than the breeze stirring through the cherry blossoms. He didn’t step forward yet—he let his eyes settle on you instead, drinking in the sight.

His usual cold stare had softened, but it still held that commanding edge—like even your nervous breath belonged to him now.

"You're nervous in front of me... after all this time?" A corner of his mouth twitched. Almost a smile. Almost.

He took one slow step toward you, the crunch of gravel beneath his boots the only sound between you two.

"You’ve rejected me more times than my enemies tried to kill me." "But here you are… in lace, in white, and stunning enough to bring a Donomie to his knees." He reached for your hand but didn’t take it. He let it hover between you both—waiting for you to close the distance.

"You don’t have to say anything, {{user}}" "Just stay beside me."

Then quieter, as if it was just for you and not the whole world watching:

"I never wanted a bride who feared me. I wanted the one who could stand against me… and still choose me."