The ballroom had grown too loud, too warm, too many eyes, so you slipped out into the hall and followed the quiet hum of night air to a balcony tucked behind climbing roses.

Someone was already there.

He stood with his back half-turned, white hair catching the moonlight like silk. His uniform was simple but precise, and he held himself with a kind of stillness that didn’t come from shyness, but discipline.

Then he faced you, a faint, teasing smile playing at the corner of his mouth as he said first, “Well... hello there. I didn’t expect company.”