Page 81 of Modern Romance September 2025 5-8

‘Marry me.’ He opened his hand, and there in his palm sat a ring of twisted silver, at its centre the bluest stone she’d ever seen.

‘It is the same colour as your dress the night we met,’ he said. ‘Siren’s blue.’

Her hand lifted. She couldn’t stop it. She touched this ring that would bind her to him.

In name.

Her heart smashed against her ribs. She wanted more than twisted silver.

She dropped her hand, raised her eyes to his.

She wanted…

Her eyes filled with unwanted tears.

She wanted his heart. To be his heart. To be loved as intensely as he loved his art. As he had loved Amelia.

‘Wear it, Aurora,’ he urged. ‘Our baby will not be undocumented. It will never be lost in the dark . Let them know I am your protector. Let them know Sebastian Shard, the enigma that creeps around in the dark and creates images that haunts them, protects you and our child.’

She wanted more. More than protection.

She wanted everything.

Everything he wasn’t ready to give.

She reached for his fingers and closed them around the ring. ‘Let’s not talk of marriage today,’ she said. ‘But… I’ll stand there beside you, whatever you choose to say, and I’ll be proud to have them know you’re the father of my child. You don’t have to hide in the dark anymore, Sebastian.’

‘Aurora…’ His Adam’s apple danced. ‘They fear the dark. They fear the noises that come out of the shadows,’ he told her fiercely. ‘I am the dark, and they will fear me.’

‘No.’ She dropped her hands to her sides. ‘You and Amelia were made to stay in the shadows. To hide. Don’t make Amelia hide anymore.’

‘She is dead, Aurora,’ he said without venom, only acceptance. ‘I understand what you have tried to do today, but opening the doors makes me weak.’

‘You are not weak,’ she corrected him quietly.

‘You and Amelia deserve to exist. To be seen. Stand in front of them, Sebastian,’ she urged, ‘and tell them what you think is right.’ She knew she was pushing him hard, but…

‘Stand in front of them and tell them Amelia’s story.

Make them know her story. Make them see her.

Make her death mean something. Something that can change things for other undocumented— invisible —children. ’

His nostrils flared.

‘You have an opportunity to not only donate your art to causes you believe in, but to be the face of it. Your face, without a mask, without hiding behind the art you make.’ She swallowed.

‘Today they are all here. So stand in front of them as yourself. For Amelia. Don’t hide anymore, Sebastian. Make them see—’

‘Me?’

‘Yes,’ she agreed, and she waited. Even though their time was almost up. The afternoon gala was ready to proceed…but he needed time, and she’d give him a little more.

He nodded and pocketed the ring. Then he did it. He pushed his fingers between hers. Entwined them until the pads of his fingers pressed against her knuckles.

‘For Amelia,’ he said, ‘and after…’ His throat bulged.

‘After?’

‘You will wear my ring,’ he said, and pulled her into step beside him.

Aurora’s heart swelled.

She knew the truth.

Today, it was for him.

She squeezed his hand tighter and let him lead her up the stairs of wood.

And after…

Her heart soared.

She’d marry him for herself. But only for the right reason.

For love.

Sebastian guided Aurora out of the forest. Slowly.

He swallowed the urge to lift her, to tell her off again for taking stairs too steep and uneven, to find him. She wouldn’t listen.

She’d delight in telling him that despite his vows, despite his decision not to care for her too deeply, to care about anything or anyone, he did. He cared.

And she was right. He did not want her to be. But he…cared. Deeply.

He’d shared himself with her, not only physically, but in ways he’d never shared himself before.

He hadn’t used pretty pictures he created to express himself.

With her, he’d used words, given her ugly images that haunted him, voiced his thoughts, and confessed his crimes.

He’d revealed to her the man he was beneath his name.

Yet still she held his hand.

And despite himself, he enjoyed, craved even, her ability to prove him wrong.

She’d shown him that he could change.

They stepped out of the forest, and the trees shook with the wind, pushing them forward. He stopped, bringing them to a halt on the edge of the tree line. He watched the air lift the black silk kissing her shoulders.

‘You are stunning, Aurora,’ he growled, his voice raw.

‘Thank you’ she responded. ‘I feel beautiful.’ The edges of her painted plum lips curved upwards, and he couldn’t help it. So did his. He smiled. Until the muscles he hadn’t used in such a long time ached.

‘Very, very beautiful,’ he agreed.

The wind swept through the trees again. Harder. Red, brown and orange leaves left their branches. They scattered and fell around them like confetti.

And he knew it. In this moment, he wasn’t the only one to embrace change. She had changed. No longer was she the broken creature screaming into the trees. She was vibrant. Confident. And it was so easy to feed from her youth, from her unbreakable confidence that her way was the right way.

Clarity cleared the last remaining doubts from his mind. The fog lifted, and so did something inside him.

She was right, had been right, before she’d known his name, his face…

She had known him the moment their eyes had met.

She’d known their worlds colliding was the beginning.

The beginning of something special.

She was his awakening.

This goddess in red silk, sparkling with stardust, was his reckoning.

His redemption.

She cocked her head to the side. ‘Ready?’

He nodded.

He was.

Because of her.

His Aurora…

They both stepped forward, toward the castle, and he realised neither led the other. They walked together. Side by side. Hand in hand, out of the shadows, and into the full beam of a too bright sun.

He was not alone.

And it did not feel like weakness to have her beside him.

It was power.

She was his power, and she fortified him.

Strengthened him in this choice to claim this opportunity she’d given to him with her small hand holding his.

An opportunity to stand as himself and bring Amelia with him out of the shadows.

To give his name and his face to a charity he would found to support children like her. Forgotten children.

And he would do it. Today.

He would no longer let the rich and the privileged elite remain ignorant.

He would make them look.

He would make them see more than his pretty art.

And they would acknowledge what they feared.

They would acknowledge him . All that he was, and all that he had become despite them.

Together, he and Aurora crossed the courtyard and entered the castle.

Together, they walked down the corridor lined with a thousand windows.

Long, heavy black drapes hung from the walls, tied with gold twine that held them open, let the light in.

And on they went until they came to the two tall doors made of oak and iron.

But neither stopped as Sebastian dipped his head and the staff on either side of the doors opened them.

Sebastian and Aurora swept into the great hall.

Together.

Hand in hand, they strode down the white carpeted central aisle between the circular oak tables of white cloth and silver cutlery to the front of the room.

They took to the stage, but she did not release his hand as he turned. As he looked at the guests Aurora had invited. She squeezed it.

He didn’t look at her. He kept his eyes on them. On the ball gowns and tiaras. The diamonds dripping from throats and fingers. On the eyes staring at him, wide with anticipation.

But he felt her . More than her hand holding his. Inside him. He squeezed her hand back and knew she felt him too. That she recognised him. And all that he was about to say wouldn’t shock or appal her. He knew she had already accepted him. As he was.

And he couldn’t let himself examine it any more deeply. How this realization made the ache inside him pulse with something foreign. Something he did not want to acknowledge.

He took what she offered.

Her acceptance.

That was all he wanted, not these impostors in his house.

He did not need them to accept him. He needed them only to know of him. Know he existed, would exist , with or without them. And so had Amelia.

‘I am Sebastian Shard,’ he said, and waited a breath too long for them to feel the weight of his name. The power of it.

His name mattered now.

He’d risen above them all from the dark places he’d called home. And he stood unflinchingly before them now as the man the forgotten boy had become.

‘I am Sebastian Shard,’ he said again, louder. Clearer. He would make them look now at the dirty secret they’d once preferred to ignore. ‘And my mother was a prostitute. A madam . A pleasure provider to all those who entered her home and her body.’

The crowd gasped, and he let their shock feed him.

‘I was, am, the children in your neighbourhood, and in your gated communities,’ he told them, opening their ignorant eyes.

‘I was nothing more than a boy, living inside a house of depravity hidden beneath your respectable veneer,’ he told them.

For the first time, he did not feel shamed by his past. He felt… strong .

‘There are many children like the boy I was. Living in dark spaces. Seeing unspeakable things. Ugly things. And we cannot forget them. I will not forget them.’

He inhaled deeply through flaring nostrils.

It was enough. He had said enough, told them enough.

He waved his free hand to the team of staff waiting beside the stage. He beckoned them to him with a flick of his wrist. They came. Gathered around the white cloth ten feet high behind him, concealing what he would now reveal.

He nodded, and dozens of hands pulled the cloth free until it revealed the twisted metal in all its glory. It was too tall to house in his studio, so he’d built it in the forest surrounding his home.

‘It’s me…’ Aurora said, and he felt, heard the awe in her voice. And when he looked at her, everything, everyone else vanished.

‘It is you,’ he confirmed. His hands had wanted to build nothing else since the morning he’d seen her beneath his studio window. With a thousand wishes at her feet.

‘Oh, Sebastian…’ Her mouth parted, her eyes darting to his, then back to his creation. Metal bent to his will. He had moulded a moment. A private moment only he had seen.

‘I built a thousand wishes at your feet,’ he said to her.

Only to her. ‘Because I know, I understand, if Amelia had one wish, she would have wished for you, Aurora. Your spirit, your determination to live, to be who you are unashamed to be… Amelia would have wished for you to make me understand what was necessary. I understand now,’ he said deeply.

‘With your face, this sculpture, you will be the face of our new foundation to support children like her.’ His throat clogged. ‘Children like the boy I was.’

He turned back to the crowd, his heart raging. He raised his free hand to the walls that had been expertly lighted to showcase his art in all its forms.

‘The art on the surrounding walls is yours to purchase,’ he said, because he would take their money. He would take it all. ‘But this—’ he waved behind him ‘—is the symbol of our new charity. And it is called Amelia’s Wish.’

He couldn’t help it. His voice dried up in his throat. Something pushed it down…something he could not describe. It was light and heavy at the same time.

‘Enjoy your meals,’ he croaked. And pulled Aurora back the way they’d come. Down between the tables. And their eyes followed them.

Sebastian’s feet faltered. Only slightly, only a tiny misstep, but Aurora’s hold on him firmed as they…

Clapped.

Applauded his crude and ugly speech.

Applauded what he was and what he would now do.

For Amelia.

Hand in hand, Aurora and Sebastian made their exit out of the great hall.

He did not need their validation.

‘Close the doors,’ he said roughly. Shutting out their eyes, eyes he did not want on him.

He wanted her eyes.

He wanted her.

Only her.

‘Aurora,’ he said as the oak-and-iron doors closed behind them, the staff disappearing behind black drapes and through a side door.

‘Why are we not in there?’ she husked. ‘You were amazing. Amelia…’

‘I do not need to be in there now. I said all that had to be said.’

She swallowed thickly. ‘She would be so proud of you. I am proud of you.’ She smiled, but it quivered. Wavered.

He lifted his thumb to her lip, smoothed it across the plump softness. ‘Thank you,’ he said, because he knew this time, those two simple and unprofound words were enough. For her.

She kissed the tip of his thumb. Met his gaze and held it prisoner.

And he was willing, he realised. A willing prisoner to her guard.

He would be her captive. He would be with her.

Always. Protect her with his name. His strength.

The power she had unleashed within him to stand in front of them unashamed.

He dropped his thumb from her lip.

‘Come to bed with me, Aurora.’

‘Why?’ she asked, and still her lip quivered.

‘I want to take you to bed,’ he said. ‘I need to be with you. Naked. I want to hold you. Only you,’ he said roughly. His truth. His needs. His wants.

‘I was wrong,’ he admitted. ‘We have something special, Aurora. This, we, can work,’ he said, and the word we did not feel stolen.

It was theirs to have. ‘We can be intimate. We can be friends. We can be lovers. Husband and wife. We can be a team and raise a family. The family we both want and never had before.’

They could do this.

This could work.

He knew it.

‘I was wrong too,’ she admitted.

He scowled. ‘About what?’

‘Us.’

‘What about us?’

The delicate tendons in her throat tightened. ‘We deserve everything.’

‘I am offering you everything you asked for,’ he said. ‘You will never be alone or lonely. We’ll be friends. We’ll be intimate. We will be a family.’

‘I want more.’

‘There is no more.’

‘There is,’ she said, and her shoulders rose. Her spine straightened. ‘There is love.’

‘Aurora—’

She shook her head. ‘I love you, Sebastian.’

Her eyes misted.

‘And I need you to love me back.’