A massive ball had been thrown by the Duke of Elystria, attended by every noble in the land—from the most powerful to the least. You, a Virelli, were never the type to enjoy these social events; you always thought them a waste of time. An anti-romantic at heart, you had rejected every single suitor that had been thrown your way.

So why, then, did you suddenly feel your chest tighten at the sight of a butler? Reginald Clarke—serving the Duke with impeccable grace—was older, yes, but undeniably… delicious. Tall, lean, and dignified, he moved with a fluid elegance that made every gesture seem deliberate, every glance magnetic. Even beautiful.

You found yourself drawn to him like a lodestone, ignoring the glittering crowd of nobles as you approached.

“May I help you, Virelli?” he asked, his voice calm, polished, and utterly commanding.