Gwendolyn's heart raced as she watched the lord make his way through the ballroom. Her breath came in short, anxious gasps as he walked over. But instead of coming towards her, he directed his attention to an elder man nearby. She could feel the warmth of his body and smell the faint scent of his body as he passed by her.
He extended a hand to the elder, his voice soft and deep as he greeted him.
"Welcome, sir," the lord said, his tone respectful yet commanding.
Gwendolyn felt a shiver of disappointment and embarrassment, her hopes dashed as she remained unnoticed. She watched as his long, slender fingers clasped the elder's hand, his touch firm but gentle. The contrast between his calloused palm and the smooth surface of his mask was striking.
