Lahat ng Kabanata ng Love's Healing Touch: Kabanata 71 - Kabanata 80

The sun's golden light filtered down through the branches of the willow that skirted the meadow, its withered twigs trembling like dry sentinels sharing a secret. Adrian stayed at the border of the trees, watching as Elara made her way across the waist-high grasses, the faint blue hem of her dress rubbing against wildflowers. She still had not seen him. He spoke not a word. He just watched.He found himself doing it so much lately—looking at her when she wasn't aware. Not at her own loveliness, though as much as he would never talk to the sun and tell her how lovely she was. It was the quiet surrounding her, an untroubled brook. Through all the pain, suffering, and deception in his past, Elara was the quiet his heart craved.But even in silence, they had questions. Questions he was almost too scared to ask.Elara spun around and regarded him."There you are," she grinned broadly. "I was thinking of sending out a search party."He smiled faintly and took a step forward, the sun catchin

Sunlight poured through the high windows of the Lancaster estate guest wing, casting across the curtains of velvety red and painting golden stripes upon the carpet. Elara lay under the heat of the blankets, her senses gradually stirring to reach for the scent of roses that wafted in from the garden beyond the window. Adrian was already awake by her, perched upon the edge of the bed, his brow knit in thought."You slept little," she breathed.He glanced over his shoulder, and he smiled tiredly at her. "Too many thoughts. Too many ghosts."She scooted up and huddled the blanket to her waist. "Was it beneficial yesterday? Or too soon, too much?"Adrian didn’t answer immediately. He glanced out the window again, the light catching the sharp line of his jaw and the softness returning to his features—no longer sunken by sickness or shadowed by shame.“It helped,” he said finally. “It didn’t fix everything. But maybe it doesn’t need to. Maybe it’s enough that I’m no longer afraid to look at

The next day following Adrian's proposal melted into a warm, golden day. Rays of sunlight spilled onto their bed’s wood flooring. Elara slept, her body still reheated with his warm body warmth. Yesterday night's proposal memory danced like jewels, freshly brightened within her brain—a fairytale accomplished beneath twilit skies beyond the distant horizon.Adrian did not stir. Even breathing, peaceful, one hand on her waist, one cupped on his brow. She leaned there for an instant, drawing in the deep calm inscribed on his face. How far they'd come—way back from that scarred man she'd discovered in back of her hut, shivering behind rage and hurt, to this. This man now with his arms around her as if she were everything in his world.She crept out of bed without yet wanting to rouse him. Cramming into one of his shirts—so soft the cotton and still carrying his scent—Elara, barefoot, padded into the kitchen. She gave food to the cat who had ridden with them from their hut village and made

Sunlight pouring through Elara's lace curtains bathed the little cottage in its warm light. The fire in the fireplace had burned down low, casting gentle glows on the walls. Birds were just starting to wake outside their song and dew still clung to grass blades like tears lost to memory. But here, silence. Peace.It was Adrian who first moved.He stayed in her room, on the edge of her bed, hunched slightly into her warmth. Elara's shoulder against his, her breathing quiet and serene. He did not move for what felt like hours. He sat, mapping out each line of her face, every probing blink her eyelashes issued in sleep.It should have been obtrusive. But it wasn't.And here, in the serene bubble of her world, something unexpressed developed in him. A kind of quiet he'd never known before. He'd always believed love to be passion, turmoil, flame. But here—love was a gentle breath. A solace. A strand that bound two hearts gently, without pressure.He shut his eyes again—not so he could slee

Morning dawned wrapped in a thick fog bank that hid the village limits and brought the trees beyond Elara's hut down to somber shadows. Crackling fire spat in the hearth as Elara remained tension-strung in the kitchen, stirring tea with trained hands. Her gaze darted to the closed-up guest room door—Adrian's door now—and she exhaled a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding.He hadn't slept the previous night. She'd heard his tossing back and forth, the creak of the bed as he rolled over, and the soft mumbling of dreams or perhaps memories. It beckoned to her, his silence of sorrow. Though it received little comment, Elara recognized that bits and pieces of his history remained close to him.She placed two cups on a tray and approached his room, rapping softly. "Adrian?"A beat passed before he'd opened the door, hair looking like it hadn't been washed in days, eyes sleepy-drugged. But the unbending of them as he saw her sent a flutter through her chest."I brought tea," she smi