“Is the world coming back into focus, sweetie? Can those beautiful eyes open for me now?” he asked, brushing a strand of hair from her forehead.

Joy nodded, her small fingers touching her lips. “But my mouth feels all fuzzy and strange.”

“Oh?” Eric bit back a smile, recognizing the universal complaint of children everywhere. “Perhaps some cake might help? That blueberry one you adore?”

“Yes, please!” Her eyes brightened instantly, sleep forgotten.

“Your wish is my command, princess,” he declared with playful formality.

With Joy secured in his arms, Eric strode from the sitting room toward the promise of sweet remedies in the dining room.

Joy’s giggles bubbled up like spring water, her earlier distress evaporating completely.

Hadley observed the tableau silently—her attentive husband and cherubic daughter framed against the rain-streaked window—a living portrait of everything she’d once feared lost forever.

In that crystalline moment, perfection settled around her like a comfortable shawl.

If life could sustain this harmony, this delicate balance of joy and tranquility, perhaps all her earlier struggles had been worthwhile. No mortal’s journey unfolds precisely according to design.

Yet time marched relentlessly forward. She’d learned to face the horizon, knowing each sunrise arrived, whether welcomed with laughter or tears. Allowing herself to wallow in past disappointments would only carve deeper grooves of unhappiness in her soul.

Perhaps she possessed an optimist’s heart or simply mastered the art of necessary self-deception. Either way, this resolute perspective had sustained her through the bleakest years in Blathe, when surrender seemed the easiest path. Without it, she might have vanished beneath the weight of her circumstances.

The following evening found the three of them navigating puddles en route to the main house of the Scott estate, where Ferris and Milly awaited with dinner and, undoubtedly, opinions.

While dinner preparations continued inside, Hadley supervised Joy’s exploration of rain-washed flowers in the garden. Meanwhile, beneath the stoic portraits of the Scott ancestors, Ferris cornered Eric for a private conversation.

Your story source g?lnσνs?com

“So, you’ve truly decided?” Ferris scrutinized his son’s face before releasing a weighted sigh. “You’re certain she’s the one?”

Ferris frowned, calculations of dynasty and power plainly visible in his expression. “Our circumstances differ fundamentally. A strategic marriage to someone from an influential family could have armored you against your siblings’ machinations. Shouldering this burden alone invites unnecessary struggle.”

“What’s this?” Eric’s brow lifted as he shot Ferris a look sharp enough to cut glass. “You expect me to throw away my entire future just to fix your problem?” He had already pieced together what Ferris was implying. With the Scott family’s empire looming large, Eric’s older siblings would stir chaos constantly in the years to come, all of it landing squarely on his shoulders.

It really was a one-man war, and a wife with an influential background could really help.

.

.

.