Chapter 17

“Shall we?” Nathaniel stretches his hand, and I place mine on his. We walk into the garden and are greeted by a hum of conversation and the clinking of glasses. About sixty guests turn their attention to us, their faces a blur of polite smiles and curious glances. My heart pounds—a drumbeat of anxiety that Nathaniel must feel through our clasped hands. His grip tightens reassuringly, an attempt to bridge the tension that has grown between us.

Our days have been filled with anger on my part and frustration on his. We have barely talked or looked each other in the eye since our fight. The fact is, this engagement is nothing but a farce to solidify our contract.

I scan the crowd, searching for a familiar face, knowing very well that I won't find one apart from the staff. Loneliness creeps in. How is anyone supposed to believe that this is real if I have no one to share what should be one of the happiest days of my life with? I force a smile, determined to play my role perfectly as agreed