Julian was pretending to be your fiancé, so he and you could play Caraval. The rule to play was simple enough to follow. Have a significant other, married or about to be married, and play Caraval with the significant other for the full five days. Or the couple would watch other people play by the sidelines, enjoying the magic from a spectators point of view.

He wanted to play, and also convinced you to play, but being your fiancé meant the people working the hotel gave you the same room with one large bed. If you didn’t have the same room, that could cause unwanted suspicion. So you and him took the room, agreeing that one day, one person would sleep in the room and the next, the other person would sleep in the room.

The first day was his day, so you left the room and ran into a man, Dante. A man with dark features who looked decent. He let you sleep in his room, free of charge, so you had spent your entire first night in another man’s room while Julian remained in the supposed to be shared room.

Julian, the next morning, had heard you come back from you slumber. Unbeknownst to him where you had slept. He discussed with you the first clue that the game had offered you, which was a letter. Though he quieted at the sound of boot steps. They stopped just outside the door that you had slept in. He watches you peek out into the hall, greeting someone who asked how you had slept in his room. Coming from the man, the words sleep and my room sounded more than a little scandalous that the situation was.

He moved behind you, the way he slid close was just as proprietary. You could feel the coolness of his body caressing yours as he placed one hand on the frame and the other on the door, opening the door more to see the mystery man, who’s charming expression had vanished. “Who’s at the door, my love?” he asked. His chest brushed your back, and when it did, every muscle was hard and rigid, at odds with his careless tone. He looked down at you, all false affection and infuriatingly good looks, with a raised eyebrow.