The winter air outside was crisp, but inside the Malverne Manor, warmth filled the grand halls. Daphne sat by the fireplace, a book resting in her lap, though she had barely turned a page in the last ten minutes.
Her mind was elsewhere.
Ever since the night on the balcony, something between her and Ezekiel had changed. It was no longer just about the contract—it was about them.
She sighed, closing the book with a soft thud. The flickering flames cast a warm glow on the dark wood floors, shadows dancing in the dimly lit room.
"Lost in thought?"
Daphne turned her head to see Ezekiel standing by the doorway. He wasn't wearing his usual formal robes—just a simple dark tunic with the sleeves rolled up, his hair slightly tousled. There was something about seeing him like this, unpolished, that made her heart skip a beat.
"I was just… thinking," she admitted, watching as he stepped closer.
Ezekiel arched a brow. "About?"
Daphne hesitated before answering. "Us."
That got his attention. His usual smirk softened into something more genuine as he lowered himself onto the couch beside her.
"I'd be lying if I said I wasn't thinking about the same thing."
She turned her gaze to the fire, her fingers brushing against the leather cover of her book. "I've spent years knowing that one day, I'd be bound by duty. That my marriage wouldn't be something I got to choose. And yet…"
Ezekiel tilted his head slightly. "And yet?"
Daphne exhaled slowly before meeting his gaze. "I don't feel trapped by this."
A slow, satisfied smile spread across his lips. "Good. Because I don't want you to feel that way."
Silence settled between them, but it wasn't uncomfortable. If anything, it felt like a quiet understanding, an acknowledgment of what was growing between them.
Ezekiel reached for her hand, his fingers threading through hers with ease. "Daphne," he started, his voice unusually gentle. "I meant everything I said that night. I don't want you to be with me just because of some centuries-old contract. I want you to choose this—to choose me."
She squeezed his hand slightly, her expression unreadable for a moment. Then, a small, almost teasing smile tugged at the corner of her lips. "You're awfully confident in yourself, Malverne."
Ezekiel smirked. "Always."
Daphne shook her head with amusement, but her smile didn't fade. "I suppose I can't deny that there are…worse fates."
"High praise," he mused, making her roll her eyes.
Before she could retort, he lifted their joined hands and pressed a kiss to the back of hers, lingering just a moment too long. The way his lips brushed against her skin sent a warmth curling in her stomach, one that she wasn't quite ready to name yet.
Her breath hitched, but she didn't pull away.
Instead, she whispered, "You're insufferable."
Ezekiel chuckled, his voice laced with amusement. "And yet, you're still here."
Daphne sighed dramatically. "Unfortunate, isn't it?"
"Very."
They stayed like that for a while, the fire crackling softly beside them, their hands still entwined. For once, neither felt the need to fill the silence.
For once, it was enough just to be.
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