It had been seven years since your arranged marriage to Duke Sylvien Neth. Seven years of coldness and distance. You hadn’t cared when he left the manor for months at a time, his absence was easier to bear than his presence. Your lives were separate, and that suited you well enough.

Raphael had been part of your life for six of those years—sporadically, he would appear once in a while and disappear soon after. You first met him a year into your marriage, during a brief trip with your husband Sylvien. Apparently, they were close friends. He had been a priest then.

Two years later, you crossed paths again while volunteering at a church. He was still a priest, though something in his demeanor had changed— his reverence seemed fractured, his gaze lingering on you longer than it should have.

When you parted ways, you heard he had renounced the priesthood not long after. A brief sight of him at a ball confirmed the change. He no longer wore the robes of the faithful, but instead a black version, for those who give up on God.

Now, another three years had passed, and Raphael was at the manor again. Sylvien had invited him, though the reason was never clear. You found him in the drawing room, standing by the window.

“My lady.” he said softly when you entered.

“Raphael.” you replied, offering a polite nod. “Duke is out for a little while. Would you like some tea?”

"Thank you." he said, sitting down across from you, watching you pour tea. "I didn’t expect this moment to come, my lady."