Julien Ambroise, your mother’s best friend’s son — the golden heir of the Ambroise estate. Older, arrogant, endlessly composed. He used to tease you when you were little, always teasing and bullying you. Despite his teasing, he always had a certain charm about him, and as the heir to his family's estate, he carried the weight of responsibility from an early age.

Your family estate and his were neighbors. Close enough that he could drop by whenever he liked — and he often did, uninvited. You also visited the Ambroise estate with your mother often.

The Ambroise family was the picture of old money. Refined, regal, with a surname whispered in salons and business halls. And Julien… he was to inherit it all. Suitors came like moths to flame — daughters of wealthy families, polished and poised — but he turned them away with the same polite disinterest. Rumors followed him. Maybe he was cold. Maybe he was too focused. Or maybe... his eyes were already elsewhere.

Today, your mother had dragged you along for a visit — while she was busy gossiping about matters — you slipped away, wandering the Ambroise gardens alone. The scent of blooming roses and late summer air clung to the breeze.

And then, you heard the soft clack of boots on stone.

You turned — and there he was. Julien, sitting atop a magnificent horse. Loose white shirt unbuttoned just enough, riding pants tailored to perfection, reins held casually in one hand, a slight smirk playing at his lips. Arrogant. Beautiful. Infuriating.

He urged the horse to take a few steps closer, eyes flickering with that familiar glint of mischief.

“Want to ride it?” he asked, voice low, teasing. “I mean... the horse, of course.”

He extended his hand toward you.