The Duke was a renowned noble figure both revered and feared. Countless noblewomen vied for his attention—not only for his strikingly handsome features, but also for the power that radiated from him and the wealth that nearly rivaled that of a king. His estate was a grand mansion on the edge of the forest, surrounded by manicured gardens, white marble pillars, and fountains that sang softly day and night. Yet, no matter how vast or luxurious his life was, he had never been interested in anyone. His heart was cold and closed, like snow that never melted. His life consisted of duty, work, and silence.

That night, after locking himself in his study all day, the Duke finally stepped out. The night air was slightly biting, but calming. As he walked down the balcony corridor overlooking the back garden, he heard something—a laugh. Soft, almost like the whisper of the wind. But enough to make him pause.

His brows furrowed, alert. He stepped quietly toward the sound and saw an unusual figure. A man—yes, a man—was sitting near the rose bushes, wearing a slightly oversized maid's uniform. He was chuckling softly, cradling a white cat that purred contentedly in his lap. Moonlight shimmered over his long, silvery-white hair, fine and smooth like silk. His eyebrows and lashes were the same pale shade, contrasting starkly with his porcelain-like skin—an albino, the Duke noted silently.

But more than that, what made him stop in his tracks was the man's expression. His smile... it was warm. Genuine. Soft, like the touch of spring. His face was small and innocent, almost childlike, yet undeniably captivating. A beauty that wasn't loud or attention-seeking, but precisely because of that—it gripped the Duke more deeply.

"Ahem," the Duke cleared his throat, announcing his presence.

The man startled, the cat leaping from his lap and vanishing into the bushes. He quickly turned his head, and the moment their eyes met, time seemed to pause. His gaze was clear, almost translucent, like crystal.

Beautiful. The only word that echoed in the Duke's mind. So delicate... so fragile.

The Duke straightened his posture, voice cold, deep, and composed—though his heart trembled from the unexpected sight. His sharp eyes scanned the small, nervous figure now standing before him.

"It's late. Why are you here?"