“It is almost exactly the same thing.”
Niko’s attention moved to me.
I lifted my chin.
“Perhaps the rooms did disappoint me.”
Livia laughed.
Niko did not, but the faint memory appeared again at the corner of his mouth.
The reception unfolded around us like a performance neither of us had rehearsed.
We stood for photographs. We cut a cake. We listened to speeches from men who spoke of unity, legacy, and the future while carefully avoiding the actual reason the marriage existed.
My father sat at the head table but barely touched his food.
Every time I looked at him, he was watching Niko.
Not me.
Niko noticed.
“What is he afraid I will do?” he asked quietly.
We were seated side by side while a senator described marriage as the cornerstone of civilization.
“I assumed you would know.”
“I know what he fears publicly.”
“What does he fear privately?”
