Eleanor combed her hair, letting it down her shoulders. With a small sigh of satisfaction at her reflection, she adjusted the sleeve of her dress. It was a simple evening dress, one that flowed to her feet, her hair contrasting with the pure white as it flowed down her back.

She could see her bed, one that she had not used for so long. Conaan's bed was now hers, and she had never felt so in place.

It all felt stable now. Her resolve to be with the man she now knew she wanted. It made it all somehow fall into place, her heart coming to rest.

She slowly made...