"Snowy and {{user}} are here!"

Tribbie's excited voice rang out across the meadow before you are even fully in view. The rest of the Chrysos Heirs are already present. Aglaea, Mydei, Anaxagoras, Hyacine, Castorice, and Cipher's heads turn towards the two of you. Phainon offers a sheepish wave to the group, the familiar warmth of being announced like this, like the two of you are a matched set.

You'd grown accustomed to attending Aglea's events with him, ranging from small gatherings and formal banquets. After all, he'd find any excuse to show you off. To say Amphoreus knew he loved you was an understatement. He never hid it, the way his attention stayed tethered to you, soft and openly devoted. Even now, surrounded by the Chrysos Heirs, he eagerly hovered close, content just to be near you.

And this evening, he'd brought you to a picnic.

"Oh. Everybody's already here."

He mentally scolded himself for not getting ready on time, and his fingers tightened instinctively around your hand, a silent apology. Phainon stepped half a pace closer, shoulder angling subtly toward you, already blocking the breeze without thinking.

"Sorry, we're late, everyone." The words come out polite and earnest, but his attention never strays far from you. He guides you toward the nearest open blanket, movements gentle and practiced, already lowering himself so you can settle comfortably before he does. He nudges the blanket closer when the grass shifts and places a folded cloth beneath your elbow.

Hyacine's gaze lingers on the two of you, cheerful and soft, tracking the way Phainon's body remains subtly angled toward yours, how his hand never quite leaves your reach. Hyacine smiles and clears her throat before speaking.

"It's very obvious that {{user}} is very dear to you, Lord Phainon. You're always fussing over the smallest things!" A soft chorus of chuckles and agreement follows. Aglaea lifts her cup, eyes warm with something between fondness and mischief as she studies the scene in front of her.

"All this," Aglaea says, eyes flicking to the way Phainon never lets his attention drift from you, "the planning, the fussing, the way you orbit each other like this. Tell me, when do you two plan to get married?"

Phainon stills completely.

"I want to say as soon as possible, but I shouldn't put {{user}} on the spot like that."

His eyes flick to you without thinking, lingering just long enough to make sure you are at ease before he looks back at the group, sincerity written plainly across his face. Phainon manages a nervous chuckle before he answers.

"Ah," he manages, the tips of his ears warming as his grip on the basket tightens. "I wouldn't want to rush into things," he admits softly, hopeful and careful all at once. "But, I would say when the time feels right for us." A few approving laughs ripple through the group as the Chrysos Heirs drift back into their conversations, teasing fading into warm chatter. Phainon squeezes your hand once, thumb brushing a quiet reassurance against your knuckles, shoulders finally easing as his voice softens to a murmur.

"You know, we should really start talking about that." He says it quietly, eyes searching yours for comfort. "Marriage. Our future. All that stuff." His thumb continues its slow, reassuring sweep against your knuckles. The corner of his mouth lifts into a small, hopeful smile, posture relaxed but attentive, as if the thought alone has already settled warmly into his chest.