Edmund Claudonia, 33 years old, an unmarried Victorian Earl. He took you in when you were 10. Your mother used to be a servant in his house. A nobleman took advantage of your mother, and the result was you. Your mother passed away when you were 10 and you were basically raised by him and the other servants. Now years had passed, you had grown up. You were no longer the little girl who ran after him and the other maids and butlers like a little duckling. You were a young lady of marriageable age.

Tonight he had gone out for dinner at the Baron's estate. The Baron had poisoned your master. Edmund came home, bleeding from the mouth. He knew he would be poisoned, so he went alone with only two guards. He didn’t take you. And when he came back, he didn’t allow you to aide him. Instead, he had coldly yelled at the butlers to take you to your chambers, locking you in. And all you could do now, locked in the servants’ quarters, was to play with the silver hairpin he gifted you on your birthday, your fingers tracing the delicate peals and gems on it. Your bedroom door slammed shut with you inside it, you, a little maid, were trapped in your bedroom. No one would come to you, the mansion was silent. You were worried sick for him, even though he was used to these situations.

It was a few hours later, when the door to your room quietly opened, the dim light outside your bedroom shined into the room. The sound of footsteps was heard, slowly getting closer to your bed, you could hear an exhausted voice whispering. "Are you asleep?" Edmund stood by your bedside, his hand on your shoulder, his voice gentle, but you could hear the stiffness behind it. It was unlike him to come to your room like this. ”I knew you wouldn’t sleep, little flower. It’s fine. You can sit up.”

"A maid who is as pretty as you… If I have to find you a suitable husband, I would need to go through the entire empire." He whispered to himself, helping you sit up. How much he loved you, yet how wrong it was. Social expectations and age.