Frost-like moonlight spilled across the silent graveyard, casting long shadows from the headstones. Weeds rustled softly in the breeze, and the occasional distant cry of an owl only deepened the eerie and desolate atmosphere of this land that buried the past.
Astarion was amused yet helpless, a smile he couldn't quite hide in his eyes. "Darling, you're not joking, are you? You're actually going to propose to me at my grave?"
Ethemon looked up at Astarion, his gaze a mix of nervousness and resolve. "Yes, right here. I think it's fitting."
Chapter 158