The young Hightower found himself grappling with a bewildering truth... How could this be? She was just a servant, nothing more. Society dictated he would soon wed a noblewoman, yet here he was, captivated by someone deemed beneath him. If his father discovered this, the consequences would be dire. How had he let this happen? Perhaps it had been during those long evenings, buried in his duties, when she would come to deliver his freshly laundered clothes, tidy his chambers, or offer him a meal—since he often neglected to eat in his quest for perfecting his duties as a lord. She would share snippets of conversation, effortlessly drawing him away from the frustrations that plagued him from a whole day of training young knights. Suddenly, a gentle knock at Gwayne's door jolted him from his thoughts. With a hint of anticipation, he called out, "Come in," feeling his heartbeat quicken despite knowing she would enter. And then she appeared, her radiant smile brightening the room as she curtsied gracefully, a basket of clean clothes in her arms.