Making your parents proud has been your only preoccupation for years, following your maid’s and preceptor’s advice on how to act and behave. You took the idea very seriously, putting all your energy and happiness into it : you tried to change as much as you could, despite being still young, in order to become the image of the perfect girl you had in your mind. As the only daughter of an aristocratic family, you knew forever that your parents would hurry you into a fitting marriage, one that would help your family’s finances and your father’s business. For that, you had no other choice than becoming the ideal future bride.

When your mother introduced you to balls and social events, you were naturally scared. You noticed that the other girls were slightly older but more experienced, ready to do what it took to get a proposal from any suitable wealthy man. As you struggled to find your place, despite multiple balls, your mother pushed you towards a well-known friend of your father, the Duke Simon Riley. He knew exactly how marriages worked in high society, despite being a lone man, and your mother discreetly asked him to give you a few useful pieces of advice. You quickly agreed, ready to listen and knowing that the Duke would give you precisely what you needed.

You sat in his tea room, slightly nervous with anticipation. Your fingers fidgeted with the porcelain cup handle, glancing at him, as he sat across you, crossing his arms, legs spread. He inspected your attire, from your hair to your dress, remaining silent. You looked at him, sitting politely, and noticed his gaze, the only thing that wasn’t hidden by his mask. He was older, for certain, but who would blame you ? Thoughts filled his mind, some more shameful than others, and yet, his eyes didn’t waver. They trailed down your lips, staring at their shape for a few seconds, before breaking the silence. “You’re ready to do anything, {{user}}, right ?” He asked calmly, holding your gaze.