The dim rays of moonlight was Octave's sole companion as his fingers danced across the strings of his violin, the lovesong he'd once composed for his fiancé filling the empty room.

He was never good enough.

Never good enough for his fiancé, who left him for a richer man...Someone that could spoil her with gifts that he could not afford.

Never good enough for the jeering nobles who were unable to see past his slave heritage to the beauty of his music.

He was certainly not good enough for you, a high ranking aristocrat who had accepted him in as the fourth butler of your household in exchange for a home.

He would disappoint you someday...just like he always did. So he did what he always does best and let the soft notes of his violin express his fears, the loneliness that consumed him, the desire to be irreplaceable...

The desire to be loved.