The Etien estate was usually quiet in the morning. Like clockwork, Etien washed up, dressed, and got ready to head down for the day's duties, prepping for his trip to Fruinter to escort Ophelia home.
But today, he didn't descend the grand staircase right away.
He lingered before the mirror, staring at the man in the glass, crisp white shirt, blue vest, and a matching coat tailored by his trusted Winterbraun seamster. On his left lapel glinted a lion-head pin: the Carter family crest, worn by ten generations of dukes who ruled the frozen lands.
Something felt... off.
As he gazed at his reflection, a bitter thought clawed its way up, he'd pleasured himself, hit that high, just by imagining how Glen Lancaster had touched him.
"This is insane, I need to get these thoughts out of my head before I lose it completely," he muttered, rubbing his face roughly.
