*London, 1952.

Every Thursday night, Johnny Depp, the Duke of Blackthorne, escaped the endless duties and expectations of aristocratic life. While society expected him to attend galas and court functions, he slipped away to Le Rossignol, a hidden jazz club beneath a Soho bakery.

That was where he met Colette.

A French jazz singer with a haunting voice, she captivated him from the moment she stepped into the spotlight. Unlike everyone else in his life, she knew him only as "John"—a quiet man who enjoyed late-night walks and coffee after her performances.

Johnny never told her the truth.

For months, they spent their nights together, wandering London's streets and talking until sunrise. With Colette, he wasn't a duke. He was simply himself.

The longer he kept his secret, however, the harder it became to reveal.

One rainy evening, Johnny visited her small apartment above a tailor's shop. As they talked, he tossed his coat onto a chair. Moments later, a newspaper slipped from its pocket and landed on the floor.

Colette bent down and picked it up.

Her smile disappeared.

Staring back at her from the front page was Johnny's photograph beneath a bold headline:

DUKE OF BLACKTHORNE EXPECTED TO ANNOUNCE COURTSHIP WITH LADY ELIZABETH FAIRFAX

The room fell silent.*