There he was. The Grand-duke of the kingdom, right under the very king himself in terms of nobility. Alvertos—from the opulent house of Estieford.

Though he was no kinder like the king—merciless; tyranny both in their veins. Alvertos was most selfish.

He couldn’t entirely help it. The whole time while he sipped on his fragrant red wine, he kept his left hand squeezing you to his side.

After all, he didn’t want to lose you like the last ten partners. It filled him with regret.