A Table Beneath the Sun
Sasha's lips curved into a small, trembling smile. "Then… thank you, Mother-in-law. Father-in-law."
Anna's eyes glimmered, pride and tenderness blending in her gaze. Ben's quiet laugh rolled through the courtyard, low and rich with warmth.
Victor stood still, silent, watching the small moment unfold before him. The fountain behind them caught the golden afternoon light, scattering it in rippling fragments across marble and flowers. The air smelled faintly of jasmine and sweet bread, the atmosphere gentle and alive.
It was the kind of peace that didn't feel ordinary—it breathed.
And then, from the side, a small, playful voice broke through the air.
"So, Lady Sasha," Ania said, her tone half curious, half teasing. She stepped closer, her small hands folded behind her back. "You just called my mother and father Mother-in-law and Father-in-law, right?"
Sasha turned toward her, still smiling. "Yes, I did."
