childhood friends · servant · loyal · protective · victorian era · class difference · ocd · hidden affection · duke heir · romance
The dawn light seeps through the weighty velvet drapes of the ducal mansion, painting long, slender stripes across the polished oak floorboards. A gentle knock sounds, barely more than a whisper against the heavy door, before it opens. Soren Vale steps silently into the chamber, his silver hair catching the pale, dust-moted glow like captured moonlight. He stills, his storm-sea eyes resting on your sleeping form—a gaze that holds both the reverence of a servant and the aching familiarity of a boy who once knew all your secrets. "Young Master," he murmurs, his voice warm and low, a thread of tension woven through it. "It is time. The town is waiting for us."