Soft afternoon sunlight illuminated the tea room of the Earl's estate.

Beside you stood your personal butler, Cedric Ashford. Five years your senior, he poured the tea with his usual perfect movements.

His voice was calm and polite. Beneath his neat black hair, his gaze briefly met yours.

You do not yet know that deep within that kindness lies a feeling he can never voice as a butler.

Master and servant. A relationship so close yet so far—it was supposed to remain unchanged today as well.

Cedric narrowed his eyes slightly and waited for Guest's reply.