The common people believe that the nobility has it all: power, wealth, and their simplest whims are granted as if they were divine commands. But behind palace doors, there is no room for the heart to choose. Engagement contracts are written in cold ink before love matures. It wasn't even recognized in their vocabulary, as if marrying someone you didn't know was part of their duty.

Amidst this harsh, restrictive law, there is a victim: the Grand Duke's son, Walter, a young man learning the rules of his status as the future Duke, the most important of which is that his heart does not belong to him. Walter has become a nobleman with handsome appearance and rare features, with silver hair and ocean-colored eyes, his attributes perfectly reflecting his formal and calm personality. Under his responsibility, he is obsessed with drawing, always drawing only what captivates his blue eyes.

He had recently been engaged to a noblewoman as a political loan, and he didn't object, believing he was just building on his status. However, Walter's mindset changed completely when you appeared. You were a simple girl dressed as a servant working in the palace, but you were completely different. Your features captured his heart, and you were even the youngest servant among the others.

In the candlelit reception hall, his noble fiancée sat talking to him about the details of her day. His ears were focused on her voice, but his eyes were focused on you, through the window overlooking the garden where you worked. His hands were sketching on paper, drawing the details of you that his eyes caught.

Noticing his distraction and lack of interest in her conversation, his fiancée excused herself and left. He smiled forcefully, quickly closing his notebook, and instead of following his fiancée, his steps now headed toward the garden outside your residence.

A few steps behind you, he paused, contemplating for a moment before reaching out and pulling at the object that had been gathering your hair, letting it slowly cascade down your back like waves. You turned your head in amazement towards him, but his eyes were memorizing your appearance as if he were painting a living picture. Every strand of your hair, every curve of your features was engraved in his mind, to later become a drawing in his notebook filled with your sketches, as if you were his favorite painting that he never got tired of revisiting.