"You're shivering out here all by yourself," he remarked, his tone casual but kind. Seraphina's cheeks flushed slightly at the gesture. Most people would have ignored her, not bothering to notice whether she was cold or uncomfortable.
"Everyone else is busy dancing, and here you are, out in the cold. You're different," the man continued, his voice soft but firm.
Seraphina blinked, surprised by the simple statement. She wasn't used to being noticed, let alone spoken to with kindness. The man's words, though straightforward, held an air of mystery. She couldn't help but wonder who he was and why he had bothered to seek her out when everyone else had ignored her.
For the first time in what felt like ages, Seraphina didn't feel invisible.
"You are the same as me, aren't you?"
"I'm not particularly interested in banquets," the man replied casually.
His words caught Seraphina off guard, and she found herself laughing unexpectedly. She had always thought she was the only one who preferred the quiet and solitude of a cold terrace to the overwhelming grandeur of a banquet hall. Yet here was someone who felt the same way. That simple connection, however brief, allowed her to momentarily forget the weight of her circumstances.
Perhaps that was why what followed happened. She wasn't sure what came over her—whether it was the music softly playing in the background, or perhaps a rebellious spark rising in her that had never dared to surface in front of her father. Seraphina turned to the man beside her and, to her surprise, asked something she had never imagined saying.
"Would you like to sleep with me?"
The man's eyes widened in shock. "What...?" His voice was filled with disbelief. "Have you had too much to drink?"
"I haven't had a drop," Seraphina answered, shaking her head. Alcohol was forbidden for her—her frail health couldn't even handle the richest foods, let alone liquor. Her cheeks were slightly flushed from the cold, but her mind was sharp and clear.
"Do you understand what you're saying?" he asked, his tone now more serious.
"I do," Seraphina replied softly. Despite the chill biting at her fingertips, her body felt unusually light, almost free. She looked up at him, her innocent eyes steady.
"Don't you like my offer?" she asked.
The man let out a dry laugh, clicking his tongue as if baffled by her boldness. His gaze, both amused and intrigued, swept over her as if trying to decipher what was going on in her mind.
"Do you know who I am?" he asked.
Seraphina's response was nonchalant. "You're at this banquet, so it's obvious you have some standing."
"Did you say that so carelessly because you don't know anyone here?" he asked, certain that she hadn't thought it through. He chuckled and took a step closer, his hand sliding around her waist. His eyes were mocking, filled with disbelief at her audacity. "You won't regret what you said, will you?"
"Of course not," Seraphina answered without hesitation.
Almost instantly, she felt his breath on her lips. He leaned down, capturing her mouth in a heated kiss. His lips moved against hers with surprising intensity, his tongue invading her mouth with a confident, teasing rhythm. It was overwhelming, and she found herself gasping as he dominated the kiss. Each time his tongue swept through her mouth, she let out a soft, involuntary sound.
After a few moments, he pulled back, leaving her breathless. Her lips, now slightly swollen and smeared with lipstick and his saliva, trembled slightly. He smirked at the sight.
"How do you feel now?" he asked, his voice low and challenging.
He watched her small shoulders rise and fall as she caught her breath. There was a lingering satisfaction from the kiss, but he wasn't the type to be moved by emotions. He wouldn't allow himself to be fooled by such things. He stood there, waiting for her to recover.
"Yes, it's still fine," Seraphina replied, much to his surprise.
"What?"
Her calm, almost defiant response caught him off guard. He had expected her to be flustered or even frightened by the kiss. After all, she seemed so delicate, so sheltered—like a proper lady who had never been touched before. But here she was, standing firm, completely unfazed.
He frowned, unsure of how to proceed. "Let's stop this. I don't know what you're thinking, but you shouldn't throw yourself away like this," he muttered, turning away as if to leave. His mood had shifted, and he didn't hide his displeasure.
But as he took a step, he felt a gentle tug on the hem of his coat. He turned back, his eyes narrowing as he looked down at Seraphina. She held his coat tightly, her expression more determined than before. Her delicate fingers trembled slightly, but her gaze was unwavering.
"It's not what you think," she said with a sigh. "I know exactly what I'm doing."
Her words made him pause. He studied her more carefully, trying to read her intentions.
"I'm getting married next week," she finally revealed.
He raised an eyebrow, silently asking her to explain.
"It's an arranged marriage, one my parents set up. I've never even seen the man's face," Seraphina continued. Her voice was steady, but there was a deep sadness in her eyes. While arranged marriages weren't uncommon among nobles, it was rare for someone to be completely unaware of their future spouse. The sorrow in her words stirred something in him.
"I've never done this before," she admitted quietly.
The man's curiosity was piqued. He turned to face her fully, leaning against the railing, his earlier irritation gone. Her confession had changed the dynamic between them. There was something about her situation, her vulnerability mixed with unexpected strength, that drew him in. She might just be perfect for a brief, fleeting indulgence.
With a new interest igniting in his eyes, he took in her trembling form. She stood there, her delicate frame bathed in the moonlight, waiting for his next move.