“I’ve been thinking about what we talked about in Romania. About…” I rubbed a hand through my hair. “About whether or not you’d like to begin a formal courtship.” She became very still. My heart slowed. “Are you asking permission to write to my father?” “Yes.” I met her gaze unflinchingly. “I’d like to formally and publicly court you. I’d like to be yours officially, if you’d accept me.”
