It started with the smallest things.
A glance.
A step.
A smile so fleeting, it could be mistaken for a trick of the light.
I had tried many ways to make Rael notice me. None of them obvious. None of them forced. To anyone watching, everything would seem like coincidence. Chance.
But I had planned them all.
Every time he appeared, I was already in place. Every brush of fabric, each laugh with a friend, every pause by the window—it was all deliberate. I knew when he would pass.
And before I left my room, I always made sure I looked my best.
Of course, beauty alone wouldn't win him. But I had that advantage. Ethereal beauty, they said—something delicate, untouchable. I could be innocent when needed. Alluring when it mattered. A little of both when it counted most.
Today wasn't a day to impress him.
It was a day to be remembered.
---
The sun had begun its descent, casting long golden rays across the palace corridors. Amber bled into violet where the light touched stone. A young maid whispered that Lord Rael was in the gardens again—his sanctuary when duty became too heavy.
So I chose my route accordingly.
The hallway overlooking the garden had always been one of my favorites. Today, it became a stage. My pace slowed as I neared the open arches. The scent of lilies drifted in the warm air, soft and full.
From the corner of my eye, I saw him.
Rael stood by the marble fountain. Sunlight wove through his blond hair like threads of gold. His back was straight, hands clasped behind him, as he stared into the gentle bloom of flowers. His face—carved in light and shadow—betrayed nothing. But he looked... thoughtful.
This was my moment.
I let my steps echo—just slightly louder on the polished stone. Just enough for him to notice. I didn't look at him right away. I let my eyes wander the garden. I paused on the blossoms, as though they'd pulled me in.
And then, just for a heartbeat, I turned.
Our eyes met.
Quietly. Wordlessly.
His expression didn't shift, but something stirred. A flicker—so small, anyone else might have missed it. Curiosity. Recognition. Or perhaps nothing at all.
Still, I smiled. Softly. Gracefully.
A whisper of a smile, the kind that vanished almost as quickly as it appeared. I dipped into a shallow curtsy—just respectful enough to linger in the mind.
Then I turned away.
With purpose. As if the moment had meant nothing at all.
I never looked back.
But in my mind...
I celebrated.
---
The dress I wore was one I had bought in Mondego City. Pale blue, draping gently off my shoulders. The curve of my collarbone caught the late light. Every gown in my collection was a variation of the same design—elegant, slightly revealing. Never too much.
Innocent. Distant. Irresistible.
My lipstick was a new shade—a soft red, chosen to complement my skin tone. I had tested it under different lights to ensure it caught the eye without being loud. And my perfume... white peony and vanilla. Subtle. Feminine. Lingering.
I didn't need all of his attention at once.
I only needed to stay on his mind.
---
Every time I entered his office, I walked with confidence. My steps were quiet but sure. My head held high. My greetings were practiced to sound natural, respectful—but never plain.
"Good afternoon, my lord," I would say, my voice calm, light as breath.
He would usually nod, barely looking up from his papers.
But I could tell.
He noticed. Even when he didn't show it.
Whenever I stepped near his desk to collect ledgers or correspondence, I moved slowly. Carefully. Just close enough for the scent of my perfume to reach him.
Not too close. Never obvious.
But I saw the signs. The way his pen sometimes paused when I passed behind him. The slight lift of his chin, as if catching something in the air.
Small victories.
---
One morning, I turned a corner with a stack of parchments—and nearly collided with someone.
Him.
Rael stepped from his chambers just as I rounded the corridor. I gasped, my heart lurching as I stumbled. Instinctively, my hand reached out—fingers brushing his arm to steady myself.
His body tensed beneath my touch.
"I didn't mean to crash into you," I said, letting just enough nervousness slip into my voice. My eyes widened. I stepped back quickly and lowered my gaze.
"I'm sorry again, my lord," I murmured, bowing slightly.
He looked at me for a moment, unreadable. Then, with a faint frown, he said simply,
"Next time, be careful."
And walked past.
But as I turned to watch him disappear down the corridor, a slow smile crept onto my lips.
He hadn't pulled away. He hadn't scolded me. And for that brief second—I had touched him.
Small steps.
Measured progress.
---
Later that day, I returned to his office to file documents on the shelves at the far end of the room. He was there, seated at his desk, scribbling in his usual clean, efficient strokes. I worked in silence, careful not to disturb him. But I was aware of every sound—the rustle of paper, the click of a drawer, the soft movement of my skirt.
Then, unexpectedly, his voice broke the quiet.
"You've been... thorough with these."
I looked up, startled.
He didn't glance at me, but his tone held something I hadn't heard before. Not quite praise. Not quite indifference.
Something in between.
"Thank you, my lord," I replied gently.
He said nothing more. But his pen paused a moment longer before continuing.
And that was enough.
I couldn't be obvious. I couldn't act boldly.
I didn't need to chase.
I only needed to linger in his thoughts.
Like perfume on the cuff of a sleeve.
Like a glance in the golden hour's light.
Like a name he hadn't yet spoken—but couldn't forget.
Let him stay distant. Let him pretend not to care.
That was fine.
Because I had time.
And I had patience.
And soon...
He would notice me—
Not by accident.
But by desire.
And when he finally looked again...
He wouldn't see a girl in the shadows.
But the woman he could never forget.