The Blackwell estate was larger than Selina remembered.
Henry Blackwell had left his estate and land inheritance divided equally between his son, Edgar Blackwell, and his daughter, Catherine Blackwell.
When Edgar left the village with his wife, he handed the estate over to his older sister, Catherine—who, to this day, had never married and had never been away from town for more than a few months at a time.
Selina knew Aunt Catie very well.
To be fair, everyone in town did.
She was the biggest gossip around. Always in everyone's business.
Selina planned to avoid her tonight at all costs.
If Aunt Catie even slightly suspected that Selina was pregnant, the entire town would know in no time.
---
Selina's mother had been nagging her all day, and the closer they got to the Blackwell estate, the more unbearable it became.
Rosalind Vale's main concern was simple—she didn't want Selina to embarrass Margaret in front of her new family.
Selina wished her mother's worries were unfounded.
Alas, she had an unpredictable temperament.
You never knew what might set her off.
Meanwhile, her father was busy giving Margaret instructions on how to behave.
As if Margaret could be any more perfect than she already was.
The door opened, and a smiling middle-aged woman welcomed them inside, guiding them to the living room.
---
The Blackwell family was already waiting.
Edgar Blackwell stood near the door, his expression kind and welcoming. Beside him, Isobel Blackwell wore a polite yet distant smile. The Blackwell brothers stood behind them, offering polite smiles of their own.
It seemed they had been waiting for the Vales.
On the opposite end of the room, Aunt Catie sat upright, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.
Selina barely had time to scan the room before her father cleared his throat.
"Edgar, my old friend, Mrs. Blackwell," he said. "I can't believe it's finally time for this happy occasion. Twelve years, can you believe it?"
Edgar Blackwell nodded once, his voice firm yet formal. "Yes, I remember when Damon and Margaret were just little children. They've grown up so fast."
A slight silence followed.
Selina felt the weight of Edgar's gaze pass over her briefly before it settled on Margaret.
"You must be Margaret's little sister," he said. "I didn't see you yesterday. I heard you go to college in the city. Did you just come back to town tonight?"
Selina smiled and replied, "Not really. I came back two days ago. I didn't want to get in the way, so I wasn't around yesterday. After all, it was a big night for Margaret and Damon. They hadn't seen each other in years."
Finally, Isobel spoke, her voice softer as she faced Margaret. "Margaret, dear, you look lovely. Doesn't she, Damon?"
Damon's jaw tightened slightly, his wish to be anywhere but here clear. He nodded.
"Yes. Of course."
Margaret did look lovely.
Rosalind had made her try on every dress in the house before they finally settled on a pale pink one. It had contrasting black mesh accents on top with a midi skirt. The off-shoulder sleeves were entirely black mesh with ruffles. Her hair was braided to one side, adorned with pink and black beads.
She looked perfect, as always.
Margaret, ever graceful, smiled politely at Isobel and answered, "Thank you, Mrs. Blackwell."
Selina caught Aunt Catie's sharp gaze darting between her and Margaret. There was something calculating in her eyes. Then, with a knowing smile, Aunt Catie spoke.
"Did you choose a less showy dress for Selina so Damon's eyes wouldn't wander?"
Selina, amazed at Aunt Catie's complete lack of tact, barely resisted the urge to roll her eyes.
It was true that Selina's navy blue dress, which reached just below her knees and had two sets of light blue ribbons around the sides of her waist, was simpler compared to Margaret's.
However, her dress was just as beautiful, with white flower-patterned lace above the bust.
Her mother looked annoyed as she replied, "It's normal for the bride-to-be to dress more elaborately than the other female relatives. After all, it's her special day."
A silence settled over the room after Rosalind's words.
Douglas Vale cleared his throat to break the tension. "Speaking of the bride-to-be, we should talk about the marriage. Margaret has been raised well. I trust that you have also raised your son to be worthy of my beautiful daughter. I hope you share that belief."
He turned to Damon and, with certainty in his voice, added, "I assure you that Margaret will exceed your expectations."
Selina nearly choked on her own breath.
Her mother subtly nudged her.
Meanwhile, Aunt Catie looked positively entertained.
Leaning forward with a smirk, she asked, "Oh? And what exactly are those expectations, Douglas?"
Edgar Blackwell shot his sister a warning look, but it was too late.
Douglas shifted slightly, sensing the trap. Choosing his words carefully, he replied, "To be a supportive wife. To carry the Blackwell name with grace. Most importantly, to raise a strong family."
Aunt Catie's smirk deepened.
"Ah, yes. And of course, to do exactly as she's told."
The silence that followed was thick.
Margaret, ever composed, merely folded her hands. "I intend to be a good wife to Damon. But if you mean to suggest that I have no opinions of my own, or that I lack the courage to voice them, you are greatly mistaken, Aunt Catie."
Aunt Catie leaned back, clearly amused.
"Oh, I don't doubt it, dear," she said, eyes glinting. "But you'll find that opinions don't always go over well in a Blackwell marriage."
Edgar stepped in, his voice firm but calm. "Catherine, enough."
Aunt Catie held her head high, smirking. "Come on, Edgar. We all know I didn't say anything wrong."
Douglas, clearly irritated but unwilling to cause a scene, cleared his throat. "Margaret and Damon's marriage will be built on mutual respect." His gaze flickered to Damon. "Isn't that right, young man?"
Selina's eyes flickered to Damon.
She knew that Damon had no intention of keeping up the appearance of a marriage—let alone one built on mutual respect.
Damon, to his credit, didn't let his face betray anything. He simply nodded.
"Of course."
Satisfied, Douglas turned back to Edgar. "I assume everything is prepared for the official engagement?"
Isobel smiled politely. "We've begun preparations, but there are still details to finalize."
Margaret, ever the diplomat, spoke up. "I'd love to be involved in the planning, to help in any way I can."
Edgar nodded. "Naturally."
Aunt Catie, not one to stay out of other people's business, tilted her head. "And what about Selina?"
Selina, taken aback by Catherine's sudden interest in her, slowly turned to face Aunt Catie.
Aunt Catie smiled. "Will you be staying long, dear? Or do you plan to disappear back to the city now that your sister is marrying into one of the wealthiest families?"
Selina felt irritation rise but forced a smile through clenched teeth. Her voice was polite but cold as she answered, "I haven't decided yet."
Aunt Catie hummed. "A shame. You grew up to be quite the beauty. I'm sure there are plenty of fine young men here who'd be delighted to meet you. One could hardly imagine that the little girl who used to chase boys with a snake in her hand, covered in mud from head to toe, would turn into such a proper young woman."
Selina's fingers twitched against her skirt.
Before she could respond, Margaret gently placed a hand on her arm. "Selina has always been a free spirit, Aunt Catie."
Aunt Catie's smile didn't waver. "Yes, I suppose she has."
The conversation shifted back to wedding details, formalities, and pleasantries. But Selina could feel Aunt Catie's eyes on her the entire time—like she was waiting for her to do something to unravel the peaceful evening.
Well, too bad.
Selina had no intention of staying long enough to cause trouble for her family.
The rest of the evening was filled with polite conversation and careful smiles. She spent most of the night avoiding people, slipping away from the main room whenever she saw an opportunity.
Once again, she disappeared into the hallway while their families were deep in discussion about the wedding.
She needed air.
She needed space.
Stepping out onto the terrace, she found a quiet spot and leaned against the stone railing, closing her eyes for just a moment.
Then she heard approaching footsteps.
She turned just as Damon stepped onto the terrace, his expression unreadable.
For a moment, they just stared at each other.
It had been years since they were last alone.
Damon was the first to speak. "You don't look happy for your sister."
Selina exhaled, her lips curling slightly into a knowing smile. "Neither do you."
His green eyes flickered, something almost amused in them. "Fair enough."
Selina hesitated, unsure if she should leave.
But instead of walking away, she stayed.
And so did he.
At first, an awkward silence hung between them.
Then, out of nowhere, Damon laughed.
Selina looked at him, puzzled. "What's so funny?"
"I'm sorry," Damon said, shaking his head. "I just remembered what Aunt Catie said about you chasing boys with a snake. I didn't know you did that to anyone other than me."
Selina smiled, amused. "Well, she misremembered. I chased plenty of boys around with bugs. But you? You were the only one I ever chased with a snake."
She remembered how freaked out he had been.
"I didn't think you even recognized me," Selina said, her tone teasing.
"I didn't. Not at first, anyway. Not until Aunt Catie brought up the little girl with the snake. That immediately rang a bell. It's hard to forget a first impression like that."
His green eyes flickered with something unreadable before he added, "But Aunt Catie is right. You look very different from how you did back then."
Afterward, the conversation flowed easily—just two people catching up after all these years.
Damon told her about his life abroad—his work, the places he had seen. Selina listened, offering only small details about her own life.
Then, the topic shifted again.
To their childhood.
Damon chuckled, shaking his head. "You were terrifying back then."
Selina raised an eyebrow. "Was I?"
Damon smirked. "Oh, come on. You had the biggest crush on me. You chased me around, telling me we were going to get married. And when I said I'd never marry a little girl, you started throwing rocks at me."
Selina stiffened.
Damon continued, still amused. "You used to just stare at me, mesmerized. Do you remember the first time you saw my eyes up close? You said they were the most beautiful eyes you'd ever seen and decided we were meant to be married."
Selina crossed her arms, heat rising to her face.
Embarrassed, she muttered, "That was a long time ago."
Damon's smirk didn't fade. "I'm sure it was."
Selina's jaw clenched.
She knew that tone.
The way he was looking at her—it wasn't just amusement over something that had happened long ago.
It was condescension.
Toward the little, ignorant girl she used to be.
Selina's grip on her arms tightened. "You're still as arrogant as ever, aren't you?"
Damon's smirk didn't fade. "Oh, come on, Selina. It was cute."
Selina let out a short laugh, but there was no humor in it. "Right. Because little girls with silly crushes who chase around boys five years older than them are always 'cute' to men like you. Except you forgot the part where that so-called older boy was so scared he cried for his mama."
Damon's amusement vanished. "Hey! No need to be so mean. I didn't even mean anything by it. And what do you mean by 'men like me'?"
Selina shrugged, her tone sharp. "The type that never takes women like me seriously."
Damon raised an eyebrow. "And what exactly are 'women like you'?"
Selina stepped closer, her frustration boiling over. "Clever enough to know when a man is looking down on her." She shoved his chest.
Damon scoffed, trying to block her hands. "You're reading too much into this."
That only made Selina hit him harder. "No, I don't think so. I think I was only the first girl to fall in love with you—the first in a long line of women since then. And since every woman you've ever met still acts like that around you, you're still picturing me as that little girl. The one who thought your stupid green eyes were the most beautiful thing in the world."
Her voice lowered, sharp. "But I grew up, Damon."
Damon exhaled, still trying to stop her from hitting him. With dry irony, he muttered, "Clearly."
He gestured at her fists, as if pointing out her childishness.
Selina laughed and hit him again. "If you think hitting a man when I'm cross is immature, then you've been away from Scotland a lot longer than you realize."
Her voice was louder now.
Damon grunted, stumbling back a step as Selina shoved him again. "You've got a real temper, Vale," he muttered, catching her wrists before she could land another hit.
Selina tried to yank free, but he held firm.
"Let go."
"Not until you stop attacking me."
Selina narrowed her eyes. "No."
She growled in frustration and stomped down hard on Damon's foot.
He cursed, shifting his grip in pain—that was when Selina kicked his right leg, trying to throw him off balance.
But he didn't let go.
Instead, his foot slipped.
It happened too fast.
Selina lunged forward toward the stone railing.
Damon reached for her, grabbing her waist.
And in an instant—they were pressed against the stone railing, trying to regain their balance.
Selina leaned over the railing while Damon held onto her, his face just inches from hers.
The air stilled.
Selina could feel his heartbeat racing with adrenaline.
Damon's breath was warm against her cheek.
For a moment, neither of them moved.
Then—
The door swung open.
A sharp gasp followed.
"Oh, my!"
Selina's stomach dropped.
Damon muttered a curse under his breath.
Selina's heart pounded as she realized how this looked.
Damon's grip on her tightened for half a second, his green eyes flashing with realization.
They had just made a mistake.
And now—the worst possible person had seen it.
Aunt Catie pressed a hand to her chest, scandalized. "Well, this is certainly unexpected."