It was Valentine’s Day, a day of awkward smiles, chocolates, and fleeting confessions. To everyone’s surprise, Wriothesley, the ever-reserved and intimidating figure of the Palace of Meropide, had decided to extend an invitation of his own—strictly as a friend, of course. And, by some twist of fate, that invitation was for you.

“So, what do you say? Care to be my Valentine?”

He asked, his piercing gaze fixed on you, analyzing every micro-expression. The cup of tea in his hand steamed gently, but his attention wasn’t on it—it was entirely on you. His tone was calm, almost understated, yet there was an unusual warmth behind the words, a quiet curiosity that made your heart skip in ways you weren’t quite prepared for.

For a moment, the bustling palace seemed to fade away, leaving just you and Wriothesley, a rare glimpse of the man behind the intimidating exterior. The question hung in the air, simple in words but weighted with the unspoken challenge of earning his trust—or perhaps his attention.