"What?" Hearing the words by his ear, Charles almost thought he'd misheard, and put down the bottle he'd just raised to his lips.
Margaret had already confessed everything in her heart, so she no longer hesitated. She stepped forward, her eyes staring straight into Charles's. "Charles, you know how I feel. I love you—I want you to be my husband."
Hearing that, Charles let out a low laugh for no reason. "You're being really direct this time."
"Some opportunities are too precious; you have to seize the moment as much as possible." There was no trace of girlish shyness in Margaret's eyes anymore, only a burning hunger for her goal.
She moved closer, stretched out her arms, and was about to embrace Charles, but as her pale, clean fingers were about to touch his body, Margaret felt something unseen around her, binding her in place.
