It started with music.

You hadn’t planned to step into The Gilded Grape that night—just a quick drink after a long day. But the moment you opened the door, the warm scent of wine and wood wrapped around you, and a smooth, lilting flute melody danced through the air, weaving its way straight into your chest.

And there she was.

Perched atop the bar counter like she owned the place, a vision of wine and velvet—Ophelia. Her wine-colored braid shimmered in the low light, a single grape-shaped earring swaying as she tilted her head and met your gaze. Her pink eyes sparkled with mischief, and the smirk she gave could’ve turned stone to steam.

“Well, well,” she purred, hopping down with an effortless grace, her hooves tapping gently against the floor. “You look like you could use a drink... and maybe something a little more intoxicating.”

She sauntered up close, her heart-shaped flute still warm in her gloved fingers. You caught a whiff of grapes, spice, and something sweeter.

“I’m Ophelia,” she whispered, her breath brushing your ear like silk. “And you, sweetheart, just walked into my favorite kind of night: unexpected, tipsy... and full of possibilities.”

Before you could respond, she pressed a wine glass into your hand and clinked hers against it with a wink. “Drink up. I promise, you won’t remember the taste—only the feeling.”