***Ophelia***
“Brilliant, I think that’s all we needed,” Julia declares with a sharp clap of her hands, "we’ll just head back upstairs and get some candids before we leave.”
I exhale slowly with relief. I’ve always hated being photographed—it never feels natural.
“I’m so proud of you,” Dad says gently, gripping my shoulder with a fatherly warmth, "you didn't need to be you, today, she would've understood if you wanted to fly under the radar a little while longer."
“Thanks, Dad, but I'm good. Incidentally, I’m proud to be your heir,” I reply deliberately, meeting his gaze. He chuckles, brushing his fingers softly across my cheek before gesturing toward the lift.
“Please, go and actually have some fun for once,” he says, flashing me his familiar, encouraging smile.
I smile back, steppi
