A Reign of Roses

An Invitation Under the Moon

Anastasia stepped out of the boutique, the soft swish of her gown brushing the cobblestones as she took a deep breath, trying to settle the rush of emotions swirling inside her. The seamstress had finished taking her measurements, and though she had been content to leave the shop with the promise of a beautiful new gown, something about the encounter—about Lukas—lingered in her mind like the soft, irresistible scent of roses.

She had come to the boutique expecting nothing more than a quick fitting, but then he'd appeared in her path, as if fate herself had orchestrated the meeting. Her thoughts drifted back to him. She couldn't help it. Where had he gone after their brief but intense encounter? Why had he slipped away so quietly, leaving her with nothing but a feeling she couldn't quite name?

Her breath caught in her throat as she walked, and as though summoned by her thoughts, she caught sight of him again. Lukas stood by the fountain in the center of the square, his posture relaxed, but there was an undeniable intensity about him, even from a distance. His dark hair, windswept and tousled by the breeze, framed a face that still held her gaze with a magnetic pull. He hadn't noticed her yet.

Anastasia's pulse quickened at the sight of him. She hadn't expected to see him again today, certainly not here. Something about his presence felt... inevitable. She was drawn to him, even if she wasn't quite ready to admit it to herself.

She hesitated for a heartbeat, but before she could second-guess herself, her feet moved of their own accord. The cobblestones beneath her feet seemed to hum in rhythm with her heartbeat as she drew closer to him.

Lukas turned just as she neared, his eyes locking with hers. There was a brief flicker of recognition in his gaze, followed by a smile—casual, knowing, almost as if he had been waiting for her.

"Lady Anastasia," he greeted her, his voice smooth, carrying an edge of amusement. "I didn't expect to see you here once more."

Anastasia allowed herself a small, playful smile, her lips curling up at the corners. "And I thought I might escape the usual crowds," she replied lightly, her eyes never leaving his. "But I suppose that was too much to hope for."

Lukas chuckled, the sound rich and warm, and her heart skipped in response. "It seems we're both victims of fate, then," he said, his tone teasing yet sincere.

"Fate," Anastasia echoed, arching an eyebrow as she studied him. "I'm not sure I'm a believer in fate, Mr. Rosenberg. It seems a rather... fickle thing."

His smile deepened, his gaze holding hers with quiet intensity. "Perhaps it's not fate that I believe in, Lady Anastasia. But in moments that are too... perfectly timed to be mere coincidence."

Anastasia tilted her head, her lips curving into a smile that could almost be described as mischievous. "A man of mystery, then? That's what you've become, Mr. Rosenberg?"

Lukas took a small step closer, lowering his voice just slightly, his words laced with a slow, deliberate flirtation. "A man of mystery? I prefer to think of myself as someone who simply knows what he wants." His eyes lingered on hers for a moment longer than necessary, and Anastasia felt a subtle tension stir in the air between them.

She couldn't help the slight flush that crept up her neck, and she fought the urge to look away. Instead, she met his gaze steadily, her heart thumping in her chest. "And what exactly is it that you want, Mr. Rosenberg?"

The corner of his mouth lifted ever so slightly, a glimmer of mischief dancing in his eyes. "Well, Lady Anastasia, I think I'll leave that for you to figure out. But, as fate would have it, I believe I've found myself in need of a pleasant dinner companion this evening."

Her breath caught. He wasn't... he couldn't possibly be suggesting what she thought. She blinked, but a smile tugged at the corners of her lips despite herself. "How convenient," she said, her voice low, a teasing lilt in her words. "But you know, I'm rather particular about my dinner guests. Not everyone is deserving of such an invitation."

Lukas stepped even closer, now standing mere inches from her, his breath warm against her skin. He looked down at her with that same intensity, and for a fleeting moment, the bustling world around them seemed to fade. "I think, Lady Anastasia, that I'm more than deserving of your company. After all, who could resist the offer of dining with someone as... intriguing as you?"

Anastasia's heart fluttered in her chest, her pulse racing, and she bit her lip to keep herself from smiling too broadly. He was playing the game well, and to be honest, she was enjoying it more than she should, after all, didn't she say herself she wasn't ready for a partner?

"Very well," she said softly, her voice now a gentle, teasing challenge. "But only if you promise not to bore me with tedious conversation, Mr. Rosenberg."

"Promise," he replied in a voice that made her stomach do a small flip. "I will do my best to keep you entertained, Lady Anastasia."

There was a brief silence between them, as if both of them were acutely aware of how the air seemed charged with anticipation. Lukas stepped back, a glimmer of something unreadable in his eyes, but his smile never wavered.

"Then it's settled," he said, his tone softer now, but no less sincere. "I look forward to our dinner, Lady Anastasia. Until then, I'll be thinking of nothing else."

Anastasia's lips curled into a smile that was part challenge, part invitation. "I'll be looking forward to it as well."

As he turned to leave, she stood frozen for a moment, watching his retreating figure. Her heart raced. What was it about Lukas Rosenberg that left her breathless? This flirtation, this dangerous game—she hadn't expected to find herself caught up in it.

But something told her that tonight was only the beginning.