The ceremony began in a hush so complete it felt as though the island itself had gone still to witness it. The terrace had been transformed by morning into a soft, luminous pathway of pale flowers, white fabric, and muted gold lantern light that shimmered gently even under the clear daylight. Ren stood at the far end of the reception hall with Fang beside him, both of them waiting in that final quiet before the walk, and for a moment neither moved. The guests were already seated. The children were in their places. The sea beyond the arch glimmered in the sunlight, calm and bright, as if it had decided to be kind. Ren could hear nothing except the soft murmur of the wind and the steady beat of his own heartbeat, which was irritatingly louder than he would have liked.
Fang shifted slightly beside him and murmured, "You are thinking again."
Ren did not look at him immediately. "I am preparing."
"That is thinking with better manners."
