Chapter 65. Whistle of the Winds

As the final preparations unfolded, we allocated everyone a precious ten minutes to primp themselves for the impending photograph. My father, embracing the role of an amateur chef, swapped his attire for something fresher. Mariana engaged in a swift touch-up of her makeup, joined by Morgan, who ensured that Gabriel radiated youthful charm.

My gaze shifted toward Silas. "You look good," I complimented.

A fleeting smile graced his lips, seemingly reserved, as if he wished to keep it from my scrutiny. As the smile dissolved, he met my eyes and offered a nod. "Thanks," he acknowledged. "You look beautiful," he added.

"Thank you," I responded, a subtle blush coloring my cheeks as I momentarily looked away, contemplating the significance of the moment.

After the brief interval, we arranged ourselves on the couch, a harmonious tableau taking shape. My father and Mariana settled on the left, with Morgan occupying the space besi