"Young Miss."
The moment she had heard this sound, Irina froze, her entire body tensing as the familiar sound of Esme's voice echoed from the doorway. Her fiery eyes widened in horror, and her head snapped toward the sound, her heart dropping at the sight of her family's head maid standing there, her expression calm but her sharp gaze taking in every detail of the scene.
Astron, ever composed, loosened his grip around Irina's waist and straightened his posture. His sharp purple eyes flicked toward Esme with a calm, almost indifferent expression, as though being caught in this compromising position was entirely unremarkable.
Irina, on the other hand, was anything but composed.
"E-Esme!" she stammered, her face a deep crimson as she scrambled to stand, nearly tripping over her own feet in the process. "What—why are you—how long have you—"
