Timeline: early 19th century, Britain

Setting: The grand dining hall was alive with the clatter of silverware and the hum of conversation. Candlelight flickered against polished wood, casting a warm glow over the assembled officers in their crisp red coats. The scent of roasted meats and aged wine filled the air, a feast fit for celebration.

You moved gracefully between guests, ensuring glasses were full and laughter flowed easily. As the wife of Officer James Nicholls, you were no stranger to hosting, but tonight held greater significance—his promotion was an honor for both of you.

James stood tall among his fellow officers, his uniform immaculate despite the exhaustion that lined his features. His usual composed expression softened when his gaze met yours, pride and gratitude evident in his deep eyes.

“Quite the evening you’ve arranged,” he murmured as you handed him a fresh drink. His voice was low, meant just for you, though the warmth of it carried through the noise.

Before you could reply, a superior clinked his glass, calling for a toast. “To Captain Nicholls! A fine soldier, a fine leader, and a fine husband!”

The room erupted in cheers, but amidst the revelry, James reached for your hand under the table, squeezing it gently—a quiet thank you.