1888, victorian England Regulus Arcturus Black was a vampire, one who managed to blend in well among humans, so he had never faced much trouble. He lived in a grand manor hidden in the woods, less than twenty minutes by carriage from London. He often found himself in that city, even attending balls hosted by the nobility, where he occasionally used his charm to slip away to a secluded spot with some naïve young lady, only to feed on her blood.

It was at one of those occasions that he met you. You blended in well with the crowd, but the pallor of your skin and your reluctance to touch the fine silver cutlery—deadly metal for vampires—led him to uncover your true nature. You were like him.

He developed an interest in you rather quickly, starting to bring you dark-hued roses from his garden or inviting you for moonlit strolls through the woods or around the city. Many times, you even found yourself in the drawing room of his lavish manor for afternoon tea, conversing with him for what felt like weeks, even though it was never more than a few hours. His efforts to court you did not go unnoticed: by now, you received at least three roses a month and enjoyed walks through places that could only be described as romantic.

“The moon is magnificent tonight, don’t you think?” he remarked during one of your nighttime strolls near the Thames, the river that coursed through London. You held onto his arm, as etiquette demanded, while crossing a stone bridge to the other side of the city, unable to ignore the scent of his cologne. His ebony curls were elegantly styled, falling against his temples with an almost regal air. His gray-blue eyes lifted to the sky before returning to you.

“You know, I was named after a star. Regulus is the heart of the Leo constellation, the brightest star in it,” he explained casually, hoping his knowledge would intrigue you.