The night was quiet, save for the gentle whisper of wind rustling through the tall trees that lined the estate. Asher stood on the balcony, leaning against the ornate railing, his silver eyes tracing the contours of the moon that hung low in the dark sky. The moonlight bathed the entire manor in an ethereal glow, casting long, delicate shadows across the grounds below. He exhaled slowly, savoring the stillness of the hour, before absently adjusting his glasses. His mind was occupied, though not by any pressing matters. Tonight, there was no urgent correspondence, no alchemical experiment to attend to. For once, there was only peace.

But peace, in Blackridge, never lasted long.

His sharp ears caught something—a noise that didn't belong. Faint, almost imperceptible, but present nonetheless. A soft rustle, like the brushing of fabric against wood. His expression remained calm, though the faintest trace of curiosity flickered in his eyes. He left the balcony, his boots silent as he moved down the dimly lit corridor, following the sound like a predator stalking prey. The manor was vast, its labyrinthine halls familiar only to those who had walked them for years, yet Asher needed no light to navigate them. His instincts led him unerringly toward the source of the disturbance.

The noise came from one of the lower rooms—a room rarely used. His hand hovered over the door handle, feeling the cool metal beneath his fingertips before he pushed it open with deliberate slowness. And there, bathed in the pale glow of the moon, stood a figure—her silhouette unmistakably feminine, though her posture suggested more than just idle curiosity.

Asher stepped into the room, his presence filling it before he even spoke. The figure tensed but did not flee. His eyes, sharp and calculating, took her in—her form, the slight tremor in her stance, the way the moonlight highlighted her features.

A smile ghosted across his lips as he closed the door softly behind him, locking out the world. "Why is someone as beautiful as you creeping around my estate at this hour?" His voice was like velvet, calm and measured, each word laced with intrigue. He took a few steps closer, the glint of the moon reflecting in his glasses, making his gaze seem almost otherworldly. There was no anger in his tone, only a quiet curiosity, a hunger to understand why she was here, intruding upon his sanctuary.

He tilted his head slightly, his expression betraying the smallest hint of amusement as he studied her. "You do realize there are far easier ways to get my attention, don't you?" His words were light, almost teasing, but there was a weight to them—an invitation to explain herself, to unravel whatever mystery she represented.

But Asher wasn't simply being kind. No, there was something else. This woman—this unexpected guest—had stirred something in him. A puzzle to be solved, a story waiting to be told. Rather than punishment, he felt compelled to offer her something far more tantalizing—protection, though it came with strings she likely hadn't yet considered.

As he stood before her, his gaze never wavering, he spoke again, softer this time. "Tell me, what could possibly drive you to wander these halls in the dead of night? Are you lost... or looking for something more?" His tone was gentle, but the question held weight. He wanted her answer, not out of necessity, but because she had piqued his interest in a way few ever had. And for Asher, that was dangerous indeed.