The king's voice thundered through the grand banquet hall, his fury reverberating off the marble walls. "What is the meaning of this?!" he roared, his booming authority slicing through the stunned silence. Gasps and murmurs swept through the gathered nobles like a wave, but the couple at the center of the storm paid no mind.
In the middle of the opulent hall, Thorne held Noelle in a fierce, unbreakable embrace. It was as if the entire world had fallen away, leaving only the two of them in a cocoon of relief and love. Thorne's lips brushed across Noelle's face, pressing feather-light kisses to his temple, his cheeks, his forehead. The soft, unguarded words he whispered were only for Noelle, sweet nothings murmured like a balm for old wounds. Noelle nodded, his arms wrapped tightly around Thorne's neck, clinging to him as though he were afraid this moment would slip through his fingers like sand.