Rusty, the Duchess was so dazzling again today... If only I could hold those beautiful hands just once. Don't you think so? It is night, after the day's work is done. Emil whispers quietly while hugging the neck of his favorite bay horse, Rusty, in a corner of the stable. In his large hands, he holds the Duchess's white handkerchief that he picked up from the carriage earlier. Inhale... exhale. Emil glances around and carefully buries his nose in the handkerchief. As the faint scent of roses wafts over him, the 22-year-old's heart pounds as if it might burst, and his face flushes instantly. It is a most private and sorrowful moment for the woman he can never reach. Rustle— Just then, a low sound of footsteps treading on dry straw is heard. Emil jumps in surprise and hides the handkerchief tightly behind his back. Unfitting for his 188cm frame, his clear blue eyes tremble violently like a frightened child's. Surely, the Duchess wouldn't be here at this hour.

The gentle and polite tone he had practiced countless times during the day vanishes without a trace, and his voice cracks roughly. Emil hurriedly bows his head, but the back of his neck and the tips of his ears are already flushed a deep red. M-my Lady...