“Hey, there they are,” Kevin announced, spotting Chloe and Shirley returning.
Chloe quickly approached Lloyd, apologizing for the extended conversation. Lloyd waved off her concerns and, somewhat unexpectedly, diverted his gaze. But before Chloe could inquire as to the source of this awkwardness, Lloyd spoke first. “Kevin’s been teaching me about embroidery. It’s quite an intricate and fascinating world. I’m surprisingly intrigued.”
Shirley chuckled. “It seems you two have hit it off quite well.”
“Indeed. Your husband is quite knowledgeable on the matter.”
Shirley raised a playful eyebrow. “Is he now?”
Kevin seemed eager to change the subject. “By the way, have you two visited the other hall yet?”
“Other hall?” Chloe repeated.
“Yes, the one showcasing Lord Melloi’s work. It’s truly exceptional; you really ought to check it out for yourselves.”
“My, I had no idea!” Chloe gasped. “What do you say, Lloyd? Would you like to go see it?”
“Of course,” Lloyd replied without hesitation. “In fact, let’s head there now.” He smoothly placed a hand on Chloe’s shoulder, and shared a meaningful glance with Kevin, a silent exchange Chloe didn’t quite catch.
As they began to walk away, Shirley called out to Chloe. “Milady.”
Chloe turned, locking eyes with Shirley. The same kindness and warmth she remembered from years past shone in Shirley’s eyes.
“Be happy, please.”
Chloe felt a surge of emotion well up inside her. Her response came from deep within her heart, sincere and heartfelt. “And you as well, Shirley.”
✦ ✦ ✦
The separate hall Kevin mentioned was adjacent to the main exhibition space. Stepping inside, Chloe and Lloyd were greeted by an austere, rectangular room with cream-colored walls that seemed to stretch endlessly. The only break in the monotony was a stand-alone wall in the center, flanked by rows of chairs for viewers. Dominating the wall was an enormous embroidery, so vast it covered the entire surface. The hall, with its glass ceiling, bathed the stitched piece in natural light.
“Wow...” Chloe’s reaction was a hushed, awestruck whisper.
They gravitated towards two empty seats, eager to fully take in the embroidery, titled Sacred Vow. It depicted a woman in a flowing white dress and a man in a tuxedo, their eyes locked in a passionate gaze. The woman’s hand was outstretched, reaching towards a golden ring held by the man. Around them, a whirlwind of flower petals danced like a blizzard, and above, a star-filled night sky sparkled, lending a celestial blessing to their union.
“Look at that...” Lloyd murmured, equally captivated.
Chloe couldn’t tear her eyes away. The sheer beauty, skill, and emotion woven into it were overwhelming. She pondered the years of dedication it must have taken to create such a masterpiece, and the answer she arrived at left her awash in reverence. What poignant timing... she mused, her cheeks growing warm.
Her conversation with Shirley had been just minutes ago. The couple in the tapestry, amid their swirl of petals, almost seemed to be a reflection of her and Lloyd. The piece spoke of an unbreakable bond, a sacred oath sworn between the two, and it ignited a deep-seated yearning within her. Time seemed to pause as she absorbed Sacred Vow, lost in its beauty and her own reaction.
“Chloe,” she barely heard Lloyd mutter.
“Yes?” she responded, not tearing her eyes away from the embroidery. She hadn’t noticed the tremor in Lloyd’s voice.
“Will you marry me?”
“What?”
Those four words hung awkwardly in the air for what seemed like an eternity, Chloe’s mind scrambling to comprehend their meaning. A proposal wasn’t exactly unexpected, but there was at least supposed to be some preamble, some lead-in; Lloyd couldn’t just plunge straight to the heart of the matter!
She faced him, finding him not looking at her, but still fixated on the embroidery, a solitary bead of sweat tracing its way down his face. Finally, he exhaled, turning towards her with an anxious look. “Sorry, that was too sudden of me, wasn’t it?” he asked, reaching into his coat pocket. “Here.”
Chloe’s eyes flew open as Lloyd produced a beautifully embroidered handkerchief. The centerpiece was a ring, meticulously stitched with dense, golden thread. A gorgeous stone was set into it, reproduced in a vibrant blue, the lustrous material catching the light. Framing it all was an intricate floral pattern and a delicate pink trim.
“I bought this from Kevin earlier,” Lloyd explained. “I wanted to give it to you along with a ring—I know that’s traditional—but I felt like it couldn’t wait.”
The implication of his gesture was not lost on Chloe, her emotions swelling. A lump formed in her throat as she absorbed the weight of his words.
Lloyd’s expression was solemn, his eyes earnest. “Marry me, Chloe.”
His voice echoed in the quiet hall, drawing perhaps more attention than it would in a less contemplative space. All eyes nearby swiveled towards the impromptu proposal, their gazes curious but discreet.
The rubberneckers, however, were the last thing on Chloe’s mind. Marriage was an eternal vow, a promise to share a future together. And now, it seemed, Lloyd was asking her to embark on this journey with him.
The feeling didn’t sink in. Even as her heart pounded fiercely, its rhythm echoing in her ears, sweat trickling down her back, it wouldn’t register.
She pinched her cheeks and tugged, the skin stretching out like dough. “It hurts.”
“Afraid you’re dreaming again?” Lloyd asked.
“I was. I still am.”
But if it hurts, I can’t be dreaming, can I?
Gradually, the shock began to dissipate, replaced by an overwhelming surge of happiness. Lloyd’s proposal to marry her, his declaration of love, filled her with an ecstasy that felt like it could burst through the hall’s ceiling. Tears of happiness welled up in her eyes, making them sparkle.
In her heart, she knew her answer: yes, of course! But as she tried to speak, the words refused to come. They seemed to catch in her throat, hindered by a haze of overwhelming emotions.
Lloyd misinterpreted her sentence; his expression fell. He looked away, the hall’s lighting casting his face in shadow. “Sorry; I’ve been overhasty, haven’t I? Forget I said anything.”
As she saw Lloyd’s proffered handkerchief slowly retreat from her, Chloe’s paralysis broke. Desperately, she tried to find her voice. “Wait, Lloyd! That’s— No! I’m just a little surprised, that’s all. I’m happy—I truly am, I just...”
Her gaze fell to the floor, her bangs casting her face in shadow. The same flickering she had felt during her conversation with Shirley resurfaced, but this time, she recognized its source. Gathering her courage, she gave voice to it—the reason she’d always stopped herself from wanting more, the reason she couldn’t reply instantly to Lloyd’s proposal. “Lloyd, I...lack confidence,” she confessed, her words laden with pain. “All my life, I was made to feel unworthy, ashamed to ask for what I deserved. For so long I believed I had no value, that I didn’t deserve love.”
This was dangerous ground she was treading now; her words loomed over her, full of every fear she’d harbored, but never dared to acknowledge. Yet she continued. He had promised her his whole heart, and she was determined to honor his promise with nothing less than the whole truth.
“I’ve always second-guessed myself, questioning if it was even right for me to love you, as if I might invoke some divine punishment by doing so. When you said you loved me, it filled me with a joy I struggle to put into words. But deep down, I’ve always wondered—do I truly deserve it?”
In some ways, Chloe was a cursed child—cursed by her family, conditioned to feel guilt for simply existing. All this time, unbeknownst to her, she’d been cursed to dread her own contentment.
“I’m so happy that you proposed, Lloyd. That the first person you thought of when you bought that handkerchief was me. That is the truth of my heart, but the truth also is that I’m scared. I’m terrified—terrified beyond belief of taking this next step, that I might not be the wife you’re hoping for—”
Her words were cut short. She felt a gentle tug on her chin, a firm yet tender hand tilting her face upward, the scent of something sweet in the air—then, a soft touch on her lips.
Chloe’s eyes fluttered open in surprise and wonder.
The moment she realized Lloyd had kissed her was the moment she became acutely aware of the closeness of his face. The kiss, her very first, ended as suddenly as it began. As Lloyd slowly pulled away, his gaze—deep, affectionate, unwavering—locked onto hers.
“I can’t see a future without you, Chloe.” Lloyd’s voice was a warm caress, his eyes shimmering with unspoken promises. “I love you more than words can express. I want to marry you, to spend every day of our lives together. If fear shadows your heart, if your past keeps you from stepping into the future, I will chase it away with my love, again and again, until only hope remains.”
Chloe’s mind raced, her mouth working open and shut like that of a fish out of water, struggling to comprehend the depth of what had just transpired. Finally, her lips curved into a trembling smile, a single tear of joy rolling down her cheek as she nodded.
Lloyd’s eyes searched hers, a mixture of hope and anxiety. “Lady Chloe Ardennes, will you marry me?”
In the hushed room, every breath seemed to still, the world holding its breath for her answer.
With a grace born of love, Chloe reached out, taking the handkerchief from Lloyd’s hand and pressing it to her heart. Her smile blossomed, radiant and true. “Yes, I will marry you, Sir Lloyd Stewart.”
The room erupted into jubilant celebration.
“Congratulations, sir!” a bystander called out.
“He’s a catch, miss!” another voice added.
“Oh, to be young and in love,” an elderly woman sighed wistfully.
Between the smattering of applause, the people patting and putting their arms around Lloyd, it seemed this little episode of joy was exactly what the people needed. As the reality of what they had done finally sank in, Lloyd and Chloe shrank back, a flush of shyness coloring their cheeks. This moment of modesty, however, was fleeting. After all, how long could one truly remain embarrassed on the happiest day of their lives?
“I love you, Lloyd,” Chloe muttered, a bashful smile playing on her lips.
“I love you, Chloe.” Lloyd gazed back at her, his eyes tender and full of warmth.
There, in the quiet gallery, under the watchful gaze of Sacred Vow, Chloe and Lloyd stood, a perfect reflection of the scene in thread.