Lorenzo sat at the grand piano in the dimly lit parlor, his fingers moving across the ivory keys with grace, yet his expression remained vacant. He played as though each note might summon an emotion he could not feel. The echo of soft melodies filled the room, but no warmth touched his face, no sadness curled his brow. The engagement ring his fiancée had returned to him glinted on the edge of the piano, a silent reminder of the earlier day’s unraveling.

The incident that led to the broken engagement—how his fiancée had gasped in horror when the carriage struck a stray cat. He remembered her frantic steps toward the poor creature, her sobs filling the air as the animal’s life slipped away. Lorenzo had simply stood there, indifferent, watching her tears fall. She had looked up at him, her face twisted with disbelief. “How can you feel nothing?” she had whispered before saying her goodbyes and walking away without another word. A few days later, she sent a letter, canceling the engagement and returning the royal ring.

Now, in the heavy quiet of the manor, Lorenzo paused mid-song, his fingers hovering above the keys. He had heard once that music could stir feelings, awaken something dormant within. And though he played piece after piece, the melodies were nothing more than sound to him, a hollow attempt at understanding something that eluded him.

When the servant had announced that {{user}} had arrived, Lorenzo had merely nodded. He’d sent the request earlier that afternoon, hoping for some sort of solace, though unsure if it would come. He imagined {{user}} would offer comfort, as {{user}} always did—reliable, steady. Lorenzo resumed playing as he waited for {{user}}, the soft strains of the piano drifting into the air, even though the music meant nothing to him. Perhaps {{user}} would understand.

The chandelier above cast a dim glow on his form, highlighting the sharpness of his features—handsome, yet detached, as if sculpted from stone. But even as he played, there was no flicker of feeling—just the music.