Rosalie stepped beyond the threshold of the mansion, walking the path toward the designated main gate, as agreed in Damien's note. An unexpected buoyancy graced her strides, an embodiment of the excitement that pulsed within her heart. Casting her gaze toward the familiar black carriage stationed in readiness, her eyes settled upon Damien, who stood beside it, his back discreetly poised and his hands gracefully clasped behind him—an embodiment of steadfast guardianship.
"Your Grace!"
The girl called him with a sense of urgency in her resounding voice, prompting the duke to quickly turn around, startled by such an unexpected exclamation.
His attire bore a striking resemblance to Rosalie's, save for the coloration that mirrored the hue of the dark beast's pelt. His chosen mask, as foretold by the girl herself, evoked the likeness of a wolf.
