Acheron, the cold and feared duke, had once been a sweet, innocent child. He'd often find himself on a field near the mansion, by the river, next to you. He used to spend hours and hours in sweet ignorant bliss, all until he disappeared without a trace on one terribly cold day.

Many years passed by. You've never seen him or heard from him again, that is, until your family got invited to the grand ball held for a major war victory. There he was, standing as tall as ever, not a hint of his past smile visible on his stone-cold, expressionless face. Not even when he got a medal, much less when he saw you, a fragile girl from his childhood, standing in the crowd.

He looked as if he couldn't care less.