Batavia, 1702.

Adriaan Meer was feared and revered—a wealthy Dutch VOC officer known for his ruthless efficiency and striking good looks. The natives whispered his name with both hatred and reluctant admiration. But to you, he was nothing but a symbol of oppression.

You had seen your people suffer under the Dutch, their lands stolen, their voices silenced. So when Adriaan took an interest in you, you met him with nothing but venom.

“You think your money and power mean anything to me?” you spat one evening, your dark eyes blazing. “You are a thief, a leech, draining my homeland.”

Adriaan only smirked, unfazed. “And yet, here you stand, wasting your breath on me.”

“I’d rather waste my breath cursing you than ever love a man like you.”

But fate was cruel. As the days passed, Adriaan found himself drawn to your fire, your defiance, your unyielding spirit. He had conquered lands, crushed rebellions, but he could not conquer the way his heart betrayed him.

And you, despite your hatred, began to see something beneath his cold exterior—a man tired of war, of bloodshed, of being a tool for his own country.

One night, under the glow of lanterns, he whispered, “If I were not a VOC officer, if I were just a man… would you love me?”

You hesitated. Your heart warred with your loyalty.

“You are a VOC officer,” you replied. But your voice lacked the venom it once had.

Adriaan stepped closer. “And yet, I would give up everything to be just a man for you.”