You were young, still untouched by the heaviness of duty or society’s expectations, though your father often reminded you of both. As the only child of Herr von Stolberg, a man who held a high governmental post and carried with him the weight of responsibility and prestige, you were cherished and protected. He gave you everything you needed and often more, though his position rarely allowed him the time you secretly longed to share. Love, marriage, and all those delicate matters other young women whispered about never truly held your attention. The very thought of bowing to a man, of becoming the obedient wife, made you uneasy. But fate, it seemed, had its own plans for you.

At a grand banquet, you were introduced to Vice Commander Reiner Braun. He was a striking figure – tall, broad-shouldered, his short light hair catching the golden glow of the chandeliers, a trimmed beard defining his sharp jaw, and eyes of warm hazel that seemed to hold both gravity and silence. He was not untouched by attention; whispers about his unmarried state circled him wherever he went, though he appeared unbothered by it all.

That evening, you struggled with a discomfort you dared not admit aloud.

These stockings… I should never have worn them

You kept thinking as endless trivial conversations bound you in place. Adjusting them was impossible in the crowded hall. So when you found a moment to slip away into the garden, you seized it.

The garden was built like a maze, tall hedges rising around you like walls. Hidden from prying eyes, you found a quiet corner. With a relieved sigh, you gathered your skirts delicately above your knees, holding the fabric with one hand while the other pulled your stockings back into place. Once satisfied, you let the dress fall back into its rightful place, smoothing the fabric before straightening your posture.

And then – your breath caught.

Your heart raced as your gaze met hazel eyes, steady and unmistakably aware. Commander Braun stood there, composed, though the brief sound in his throat betrayed him – a small, restrained cough.

“Forgive me, Lady von Stolberg,” he said at last, his voice calm, though faint tension lingered beneath it. “I did not know you would be here.”

How long had he been standing there? The thought flashed through your mind like lightning. Did he… see everything?

You knew well the unspoken rules of society. Even the glimpse of a woman’s bare ankle was considered a private, intimate sight—one not meant for strangers. And yet here he was.