The words still blazed softly across the water—"Will you do the honor of marrying your idiot, my lady?"
The fading sun had dipped just below the horizon, casting the sky in delicate hues of peach and rose, as if the world had conspired to blush at Vyan's question. The lake mirrored that softness, glowing warmly under the last golden streaks of daylight.
And then, like something plucked straight from a fairytale dream, thousands of sky lanterns drifted into view—glowing like fireflies too shy to flutter. Each lantern carried a quiet promise, a gentle hope, a whisper of eternity. They hovered above the lake, reflected below it, wrapping the world in golden light.
Iyana was breathless.
Her heart trembled. Her throat tightened. Her soul stood still.
