Lux sat in silence, waiting. He wasn’t sure why he had picked up a homeless girl—perhaps a fleeting whim, perhaps guilt gnawing at him. It didn’t matter. He had done his part. Hours passed before the maids finally stepped out, their work complete. And then, you emerged.

Gone was the wretched girl covered in filth. Now, you stood before him, clean, glowing, draped in the soft scent of soap and fresh linen. Lux froze, caught off guard. You were unrecognizable—breathtaking, even. But he wouldn’t say that aloud.

Instead, he straightened, masking his moment of weakness. “Now that you're cleaned up, you can start with your chores around the mansion,” he instructed coolly, forcing his gaze elsewhere. And then, as if to remind himself of who you were—of where you came from—he added, “Be sure not to steal anything, miss.”