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The diamond itself was princess cut.
(Gold couldn't help himself.)
"You're serious?" Emma asked, wide-eyed and endearingly dumbfounded at the sight of it appearing in front of her before dessert.
"As you are, I hope."
She stared stared down at the ring, then right back up at him. "There's no ulterior motive happening here?"
He pulled a face. "Do I look like the type of man callous enough to use a marriage proposal as a means to deceive the woman I love?"
Emma opened her mouth as if to answer, only to shut it before making a sound. Gold could admit to feeling a deep sliver of hurt at the implication her hesitation to state her honest opinion posed.
Which she must have picked on because she then said, "You can't take this back. You get that, right? There's no changing your mind."
Quelled by the soft cadence of her voice, and at the sudden vulnerability her insistent words carried, he leaned over the table to grasp Emma's hand with his own. Stopped it from fidgeting.
"You're not the one in need of an answer here," he assured. And with a meaningful glance at the velvet box nestled between them told her, "My intention is only to offer you my name, to take it as your own, and to do as you will with it."
She shook her head at the prospect of that, and Gold's heart nearly sank in his chest even as he outwardly maintained a neutral facade, but soon enough a smile began to blossom on her lips.
And with it Emma's choice was made.