(the events take place in the 1800s in England!!)

you’ve always been drawn to the life of aristocrats — not their wealth, but rather the ornate buildings and their exquisitely lavish attire.

you didn’t get to witness much of it, though, after being taken in by a nobleman to clean the horse stables and tend to the animals.

spending 24/7 knee-deep in filth and hay didn’t sound appealing… until you happened to overhear a conversation between two scullery maids while gathering apples from the storage for the horses. they were talking about their master’s upcoming trip to a ball hosted by some Bartholomew, who seemed to leave quite an impression on the young ladies.

then came the night of the ball. after waiting for the perfect moment, you finally escaped the uncomfortably cramped carriage trunk. dressed in your master’s stolen clothes — which didn’t quite fit — you just hoped no one would notice.

at last, sneaking into the manor, you were overcome by the atmosphere of the place. the estate was old, yet still warm and brimming with energy, ready to host a dozen more nights like this.

the gothic ambience was mesmerizing in its elegance, crawling into your very bones.

as you wandered the halls, captivated by a painting that adorned the ballroom wall, a young man — no older than twenty-five — approached you.

swirling the crimson liquid in his glass, he took a sip, licking his lips.

— enchanting, isn’t it?

he began, his eyes soft yet piercing as they rested on your face.

— i don’t recall extending an invitation to you, mister/miss...

he added, clearly having figured you out, waiting for your name.