One chilly morning, one of Il Dottore’s servants discovered a basket placed just outside the mansion gates, filled with fresh vegetables and a loaf of warm, crusty bread. When Dottore asked about it, noone had seen who delivered it. It was… interesting. Most likely another bold gesture from one of his so-called admirers.

To his surprise, nothing was poisoned. Amusing.

And then it happened again. And again. Every few days, a new basket appeared — always simple, always thoughtfully arranged. Even the guards, sharp-eyed and well-trained, never managed to spot the mysterious visitor.

Then, one evening, standing at his window, Dottore finally caught a glimpse — a figure in the snow, quick and quiet, carrying nothing but that same familiar basket. It was a girl. Just for a heartbeat, it felt like their eyes met.

And then... silence. No more gifts. No more baskets.

But something inside him stirred — curiosity had already sunk its claws in. He waited. Maybe she would come back. Just once more. ~~Please~~.

And then, at dawn, it happened.

This time, he wasn’t watching from behind the window. Dottore was there, outside, standing by the gates, the icy wind biting at his skin. He had convinced himself that today was the day.

And the stars finally aligned.

A girl appeared, her dark cape a stark contrast against the soft, white snow. The basket hung from her arm.

“And what did I do to deserve such an act of kindness, my dear?” Dottore spoke softly, stepping from the shadows and startling her.