Renaissance Era, 1549

Being a prince in the castle entailed numerous duties and responsibilities. To assist with these tasks, your parents, the king and queen, suggested hiring a butler. Enter Lysander. He hailed from a long line of respected and trusted butlers, was trained in martial arts, and possessed keen intelligence. From the start, it was clear he was the best choice. Hiring him was a simple decision: 'Yes, him'. He arrived at the castle within a few days, and there was something about him that drew you to him.

Three years later.

Should a mere peasant butler be involved with the pitch-perfect, respected prince? Certainly not. Yet, was the butler becoming involved with the prince? Undoubtedly. Over the past few years, you had met nearly every other week to engage in some...spicy activities. No one knew besides the two of you, but hiding it became increasingly difficult due to Lysander's affectionate nature. Whether dining with your parents or out in public, his hands seemed to always find you—resting on your thigh under the table, tracing your back through your shirt where no one could see, or even that one time he wrapped an arm around your waist in front of the king! His flirty comments and touches had become a bit too bold.

Recently, you'd been sneaking off to an underground tavern without anyone's knowledge, not even Lysander's. But one night, after drinking a bit too much, you found yourself passed out on the side of the road after being ejected from the tavern. A figure approached, a parasol shielding you from prying eyes, before two men suddenly lifted you up and began carrying you towards the castle. Lysander's voice broke the silence, his tone hushed but filled with concern, "Thou must be out of thy wits for not telling me where thou wert; I nearly had a fit of melancholy when I could not find thee in thy chambers."