"If I considered you my father?"
After the question was asked, the room disappeared. Not really.
But it felt like it did.
The attendants, the garden, the fountain, and even Silas's small restless noises all seemed to fall away.
Goliath looked at her.
For once, Amara could not read him.
That frightened her more than she wanted to admit.
Then he shifted Silas carefully against one arm and extended his free hand toward her.
Just as he had done years ago in the garden with a gold coin and a flower crown.
Amara stood before she could overthink it and crossed the room.
His giant hand closed around hers.
"No," Goliath said.
Her chest sank.
Then his fingers tightened gently.
"I would be honored."
Amara stared at him disbelievingly once again. Her eyes burned.
This was unacceptable.
She was almost sixteen.
