Page 92 of Wisteria and Cloves
"Of course," Christopher said, already heading toward the kitchen. "I'll make tea, or coffee, or maybe something stronger, if you prefer."
"Tea sounds perfect," I replied, grateful for his understanding.
Miles disappeared briefly and returned with a soft throw blanket, draping it around my shoulders as I settled onto the couch. The simple gesture of care made my throat tighten with emotion.
"I'll be right back," Julian said, stepping into the hallway with his phone already pressed to his ear. I could hear the low murmur of his voice as he spoke to his publicist, his tone controlled but urgent.
Nicolaus sat across from me, his tablet in hand but his attention focused on my face. "How are you really feeling, Lilianna?" he asked, his perceptive gaze missing nothing.
I pulled the blanket tighter around my shoulders, considering his question. "Overwhelmed," I admitted. "But not in the way you might think. It's not just the paparazzi—it's everything. Shopping for clothes I actually like, eating food I chose myself, being out with all of you openly..." I paused, searching for the right words. "It's like I've been holding my breath for years, and suddenly I'm allowed to breathe," I continued, my voice barely above a whisper. "The paparazzi scared me, but they also madeeverything feel... real. Like this isn't just a dream I'm going to wake up from."
Miles settled beside me on the couch, close enough that I could feel his warmth through the blanket. "It's not a dream," he said softly, his green eyes holding mine with quiet intensity. "You're here, with us, and that's not changing."
Christopher returned with a tea service, the familiar ritual of preparing chamomile with honey giving my hands something to do while my mind processed the day's events. "You know," he said, settling into his usual chair, "I've been thinking about what you said at the café. About being ours."
My heart fluttered at the reminder of my bold question. "I meant it," I said softly, looking down at my tea. "I know it's fast, and maybe I shouldn't feel this certain yet, but I do."
Julian returned from his call, slipping his phone into his pocket as he joined us. His expression was carefully neutral, but I could see the tension in his shoulders. "It's handled," he said, accepting the cup Christopher offered him. "The statement will go out this evening, acknowledging that we're courting someone but requesting privacy."
"Will that be enough?" I asked, my fingers tracing the rim of my teacup.
Julian's eyes met mine, warm despite his professional demeanor. "For now. It gives us control of the narrative without exposing you to unnecessary scrutiny."
"I don't want to hide," I said, surprising myself with the firmness in my voice.
Julian smiled at my words, “We don’t want you to hide either. I do know I’ll be getting a call from our social media experts…they apparently want to make sure things are taken care of on their end too.”
As if on cue, Julian's phone buzzed with an incoming call. He glanced at the screen and sighed. "Speak of the devil. It's Mara from our social media team."
He stepped away to take the call, his voice a low murmur in the background. I sipped my tea, finding comfort in its familiar warmth while Miles's presence beside me steadied my nerves.
"What does a social media team actually do?" I asked, realizing how little I knew about their public lives.
"They manage our public image," Nicolaus explained, setting his tablet aside. "Monitor mentions, handle interview requests, and coordinate with charities we support."
Christopher added, "They also run interference when things get... intense. Like today."
Julian returned, glancing at us as he came and sat down, “She says she wants to have a talk tomorrow on how to handle some new social posts. She thinks adding posts about the courting and some shots of Lilianna without showing her face would help a lot.”
I blinked, surprised. "Shots of me? But not my face?"
"It's a common approach," Julian explained, settling back beside me. "Partial images—your hand in mine, the back of your head as we walk through the garden, a silhouette by the window. It creates a narrative we control while protecting your privacy."
"The public loves a romance," Christopher added, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. "If we give them just enough to satisfy their curiosity, they're less likely to hunt for more invasive content."
I considered this, turning my teacup slowly between my palms. The idea of being photographed, even partially, still made my stomach flutter with nerves. But there was something appealing about sharing this part of my life on my own terms.
"Would I... get to see the photos before they're posted?" I asked, apprehensive of what kind of posts would need to be made.
"Of course," Julian said immediately. "Nothing would be shared without your approval."
Miles nodded, adding, "You'd have complete veto power. This isn't about exposing you—it's about creating a buffer of controlled information to protect you from speculation."
I took another sip of tea, considering. "I think I could handle that. As long as I get to see everything first."
"Absolutely," Julian confirmed. "Mara suggested starting with something simple—perhaps a photo of our hands intertwined, or you in the garden from behind. Nothing that would identify you to strangers. She also said if you wanted you could make an account yourself and post quotes and little things as well, especially on Instagram where we post about our day or training.”
"My own account?" I asked, the idea both thrilling and terrifying. "I've never had social media before. My parents said it was frivolous and dangerous."
