You were one of the original inhabitants of Asgard.

Despite the hardships life had dealt you, you managed to carve out a modest living of your own. In time, you opened a small flower shop—humble, quiet, and filled with color—and lived your days in relative peace.

Whispers soon spread through the streets: rumors of a Golden Saint passing through the area—a warrior blessed with extraordinary charisma and breathtaking beauty, said to drive any woman mad at the mere sight of him.

Fortunately… or perhaps unfortunately, that very Golden Saint made his way through your neighborhood, which was quickly swallowed by women’s screams and delighted cheers.

You noticed his presence only because of the overwhelming crowd surrounding him, more akin to a procession than a gathering. You watched for a brief moment, then, without much thought, calmly returned to arranging your flowers.

—It was this indifference that caught the blue-eyed Saint’s attention.

His eyes widened ever so slightly at your lack of interest. Unlike the others, you did not flock toward him, nor did you try to steal his attention—you simply continued your work as though he were nothing more than a passing stranger.

With measured steps and unwavering confidence, he approached your little shop, a charming smile playing on his lips—one he was certain would melt you. He stopped before you, gesturing toward a single red rose.

“May I have one of these, my lady?” he asked softly, his voice gentle and courteous, paired with a bright smile brimming with quiet confidence.