Never Not Yours

Chapter 7

As the wheels of the coach turned, my beating heart drummed in my ears. All the while, I had been so concentrated on leaving that I forgot to think of what I should say to Miku. How could I let that slip through the cracks? It was bad enough that I had waited until now. I did not dare mangle the moment more with a haphazard proposal--God forbid!

Twilight shimmered like stars through the leaves rustled by night's lulling breath. All the world outside the coach grew silent and still. I rummaged in my portmanteau and produced a polvoron, which I nervously munched for comfort. What to say? Nothing seemed sufficient for a proposal. My mind was a stampede of untamed thoughts that refused to be bound by the confines of coherence.

When the coach came to a halt near the west gate of Maghton Grange, I stepped out feeling completely unarmed. Within moments, I found myself beneath the shade of tall trees, making my way down the winding path. On all my other trips into those gardens, my heart raced as I thought of being with Miku. But those occasions were ones marked by the calm of recounting our days and expressing how much we missed one another.

Words of love passed between us, sweetening the air more than the blossoming flowers, yes. However, they were freely spoken as lovers are wont to do. There was no expectation of a fixed declaration looming overhead like a dark cloud. I crossed the stone bridge over the lake where swans swam in pairs, leaving ripples on the sunset-gilded waters in their wake. My breathing grew more shallow with each step, forcing me to pause and gather myself. I exhaled and resumed my course.

Upon rounding the corner towards the pergola covered in creeping ivy, I found the bouquet on the bench Imran had left it on and retrieved it. I waited under the lush canopy upheld by Grecian columns carved from bleached stone, pacing back and forth, desperately searching for the right words.

"Gustavo?" she said, soft as a whisper.

I turned my head towards the far end of the pergola, scarcely believing my eyes. My feet froze in place. Miku was a vision in an elaborate, pale blue gown that any queen would envy. I was breathless.

"What on earth are you doing?" Miku approached, crossing her arms. "Is this part of some game you and Mr. Abud have conjured up?"

"You look stunning." The words dribbled out of my mouth.

"Well, one of us had to, it appears. What are you supposed to be dressed as?"

The moment had arrived. I resolved to speak from my heart, casting caution to the wind.

"Please accept my sincerest apologies," I said, stepping closer. "I have replayed this scene a thousand times in my dreams and in my waking hours. And I dearly hoped I'd be able to reproduce one of those fancies, for you deserve that and more."

"My love, I am afraid you are not making much sense. Are those flowers a part of your costume? Ah! That's it! You are a flower vendor. Is that right?"

"They're yours." I held them out to her.

"Mine?" her gloved hands trembled as she took the bouquet.

"I adore you, Miku." My right knee met the ground. "Keeper of my heart, would you honour me by being my wife?"

Her face glowed with a blushing smile. "You wish to marry me?"

"Nothing would make me a happier man."

"Then I feel compelled to say... yes!"

I leapt to my feet and threw my arms around her.

"This night cannot possibly get better," Miku whispered in my ear.

"I suppose not." I beamed. "Now, tell me of your costume."

"Do you not want to guess?"

"I feel as though I won't get it right."