Confirmed

Stefan

I slip away through the solid oak door, which provides a welcome barrier between myself and the clamour of the wedding festivities. Despite having fulfilled my familial obligations, mingled with guests, and congratulated my sister and Samuel, I am expected to stay longer, but I mentally can’t cope with staying longer.

The noise of over three hundred voices compacted in the grand halls assaults my senses. I find myself trapped by a single thought: Jacub’s intentions. What is his plan? Perhaps my Father’s idea was correct, and there was no plan, or it faltered before it could happen. The absence of repercussions in the eight years leaves me with more questions than answers.

Yet, one name persists in occupying my thoughts like an uninvited guest: Harlyn. She lingers in my consciousness despite my attempts to divert my attention elsewhere.

She annoyed me during the ceremony, and although she did nothing herself, I blamed her; it was entirely my fault.

Asshole.

Ghost is correct. I a