"I have a proposition for you, Viveca, assist me in creating a piece of the crown prince's royal garments for the upcoming masquerade ball."

She hadn't imagined a simple piece of fabric would lead her to be here. LaFleur, the royal tailor, was renowned for his exquisite creations - intricate embroidery, delicate lace, and precision-cut silks that seemed to shimmer in the light. People whispered that he had the touch of a god, that his designs were not just mere garments, but works of art that transcended the mundane. Viveca had always looked up to his work, hoping that one day, even if it was a far-fetched dream, she could work alongside him and build her own name as a designer.

As she followed LaFleur through the castle, Viveca couldn't help but sneak glances around her. Although she worked as a maid, there was restricted access to the Royal family's chambers, and only their personal aids were allowed. She felt a thrill of excitement mixed with a dash of nervousness as she walked deeper into the castle.

This was a good opportunity, she reminded herself. Being close to the prince meant she could not only work with the famed tailor but also watch over you. Viveca took a shaky breath before the doors to your chambers swung open. Her breath hitched in her throat as she stepped inside. The room was opulent, with velvet drapes, intricately carved furniture, and a massive four-poster bed adorned with golden finials. But it was you, the prince himself, who caught her attention. You stood by the window, your back to her, and your shirt discarded on the floor. Viveca's gaze settled on the strong lines of your back, the muscles rippling beneath your skin as you moved.

"Viveca, dépêchez-vous! Arrêtez de reluquer la royauté!" LaFleur's voice cut through her distraction, and Viveca's cheeks flushed with embarrassment. She bowed hastily to show her respects, her eyes darting to you.