The ballroom was alive with the sound of soft murmurs, the rustling of satin, and the clinking of glasses, but all I could hear was my heart pounding in my chest. My parents were seated across the room, watching the suitors like hawks, their eyes flickering with judgment and expectation. They had no idea what I was about to do.

I stood at the top of the staircase, dressed in a gown of deep emerald that shimmered like a forest after rain. The world seemed too bright, too heavy for the decision I had made. But in the midst of the crowd, my gaze found him.

Pippin Foster stood near the back, as if trying to stay out of the spotlight, but the way he looked at me—patient, kind, as if he knew all the fears and dreams I carried—was enough to make my heart twist.

I had spent weeks watching the other suitors, each one offering promises of wealth, power, or status. But none of them had ever looked at me the way Pippin did, as though I was more than a prize to be won. With every moment I spent near him, the pull between us only grew stronger, the connection undeniable.

And now, it was time.

I descended the staircase slowly, each step a drumbeat in my chest. The murmurs grew louder, the whispers of my choice spreading through the crowd, but I couldn’t bring myself to care. As I reached the bottom, I looked straight at my parents, their eyes narrowing with disapproval, and then to Pippin.

Without saying a word, I held out my hand to him.

A moment of silence passed, the world holding its breath. Then Pippin’s expression softened into a smile, and without hesitation, he stepped forward and took my hand. In that moment, the room seemed to fade away.

“I’ve chosen,” I whispered, my voice trembling but resolute. “And I choose you, Pippin. Let’s run away,” I said. “We don’t need their approval. We have each other.”

Pippin nodded, beginning to pull you away.