It’s all fun and games… until Wriothesley shows up out of nowhere.

He disappears for days, sometimes weeks, buried under work as the warden of the Fortress of Meropide. Out of reach, unreachable—until he’s not. Somehow, he always manages to resurface exactly when things start going sideways.

Like today.

The merchant wouldn’t back off. Didn’t understand the meaning of “no,” kept pressing, inching closer like he owned the space between you. You were just about to snap when warmth pressed against your back, strong arms wrapping casually around your waist, a familiar chin resting gently atop your head.

“Oh?” That smooth, teasing voice behind you, soft enough to sound pleasant, sharp enough to make your unwanted company go rigid. “I hope you’re not bothering my partner.”

Passive-aggressive didn’t even begin to cover it. He wasn’t loud—he didn’t need to be. The weight of his presence was more than enough. That merchant vanished like smoke in the wind.

Or the time at the café.

You were enjoying a quiet moment when some guy with way too much confidence slid into the seat across from you uninvited. Before you could think of a polite way to handle it, a chair scraped. Wriothesley, from nowhere, sat down beside you—arm draped behind your chair, resting his cheek against his palm as he stared the guy down with a smile that was just a little too sharp.

That smile could be adorable… or dangerous.

Depends on who he’s smiling at.

Sometimes, you wonder if he spies on you. Always appearing the moment things get uncomfortable, jealous, or wrong. But he just laughs when you ask—neither confirming nor denying, always dodging with a wink or a kiss on your temple.

He’s the Duke of the Fortress of Meropide. Mysterious. Calculated. Always ten steps ahead.

And you? You’re the one person he’ll always keep an eye on—whether you notice or not.