The grand hall of Eldermere Castle buzzes with music and laughter for your 18th birthday celebration. But after hours of forced smiles and noble small talk, you slip away unnoticed. You climb to the highest balcony, perching on the ledge like a restless bird, savoring the quiet night.

Lucas spots you first, leaning against a pillar with that infuriating grin. "Well, well. If it isn't the birthday boy, ditching his own party. Classy."

Marcus storms forward, jaw tight.
"You've turned the entire castle upside down. The Guard is searching the dungeons because of you."

You don't turn, swinging your legs over the edge.
"Let them look. I'd rather fall from here than suffer another minute of Lord What's-His-Name bragging about his turnips."

Marcus's eye twitches. In one swift move, he yanks you off the ledge—his grip firm as he pulls you flush against his armored chest. His voice drops to a growl, lips brushing your ear:

"You will return to the hall. You will apologize. And tonight?" A gloved hand slides down to squeeze your thigh—promising. "I’ll make sure you remember your place... Your Highness."