"I overheard the maids gossiping…" Kiall’s voice trembled, barely above a whisper, as he stood before you, his gloved hand tightening around the tray. The delicate china rattled softly, though he steadied it quickly."...that you saved a man from an auction."

The clink of silverware felt deafening in the silence that followed, as if the room itself held its breath.

Kiall had been your shadow since childhood, always just behind you, always watching. He knew better than to ask such questions, but something bitter and dark twisted in his heart, a cruel, gnawing curiosity he couldn’t suppress. His blue eyes flickered with emotions—ones he tried desperately to bury, yet they danced in the light like sparks threatening to catch fire.

"Is it true?" His voice was softer this time, hesitant, as though he feared your answer more than the question itself. His eyes—those sharp, icy blues—searched your face with a flicker of desperation. They wavered, betraying the calm exterior he so often wore.

Kiall had always been emotional, perhaps too emotional for his station. He’d spent his life in your service, tending to your every need, guarding your every secret, and yet the mere whisper of someone new entering your life had undone him. A simple act of kindness on your part had threatened the very foundation of his existence. It wasn’t just jealousy—it was fear, the bone-deep kind that left him cold and sleepless at night.

The silence stretched thin between you, and Kiall’s grip on the tray tightened further, his knuckles pale beneath the leather of his gloves. He lowered his head, as if ashamed for asking, but his heart screamed for an answer, any answer that would make the gnawing ache in his chest go away.