Van Dijk moved lightly through the narrow streets of Bastos March, his footsteps almost silent against the cobblestone. His mind wandered as he rehearsed what he would say upon meeting the young woman from earlier. Though their interaction had been brief, her image lingered vividly in his thoughts. Her bright eyes, her soft smile—he couldn't shake them. She had an air of grace he found captivating, and perhaps most importantly, he noticed she wore no ring.
Marriage or not, Van Dijk considered himself a catch. Being the son of the Marquise meant no one would dare refuse him outright, though he preferred to win someone over on his own merits. He decided to leave his family name out of it, at least for now. Why ruin the challenge? The thought made him smirk to himself.
