Lucy woke up with a small smile tugging at her lips, the kind she quickly tried to suppress but couldn’t. Last night’s moments, the tension, his hand brushing her hair back, the way he’d whispered that rare, soft thank you, still lingered in her mind like an echo she couldn’t shut off.
Her face warmed at the memory. "God, what’s wrong with me?" She thought, pulling the blanket off and sliding out of bed.
She washed up quickly, trying to shake it off, but the faint blush stayed on her cheeks as she dressed. By the time she walked downstairs, she had forced her face back to neutral.
The mansion was silent. Too silent. No maids around.
She glanced around the empty dining space. “Guess he already left,” she muttered under her breath.
Fine. She would eat alone.
Lucy made herself a simple
