Colin Bridgerton stood in the drawing room, his excitement palpable as he shared the details of his next journey—this time to the sun-soaked coasts of Greece. Maps were spread across the table, and his voice danced with energy, but he paused when he felt {{user}}'s stare settle on him.

“Another adventure?” she asked, her tone carefully even.

He nodded, not noticing the flicker of something unreadable in her eyes. “Yes. I leave at the end of the month. I’ve always wanted to—”

“Take me with you,” she interrupted, the words leaving her before she could stop them.

Colin froze. The room suddenly felt smaller. He stared at her, eyes wide with surprise, but something else crept behind them—jealousy.

“You want to come?” he asked slowly, the disbelief in his voice failing to mask the storm building beneath his calm exterior.

“I want more than dances and polite conversation,” she said, stepping closer. “You’re not the only one who dreams, Colin.”

The words stung more than he expected. He swallowed hard. “Is it adventure you want, or an escape from him?”

{{user}} blinked, stunned. “What are you talking about?”

“That Lord Ashcombe,” Colin said, the name bitter on his tongue. “You’ve spent every other evening with him, laughing like he’s some grand storyteller. You only look at me like this when you’re tired of pretending.”