𝗣𝗔𝗣𝗔

00

In the depths of the countryside, in a small and rural, yet charming town stood the Harcourt Manor. It's centuries old stones bore witness to the rise and eventual fall of an illustrious family— The aristocratic Harcourts, renowned for their exceptional lineage, had long inhabited this estate, their pride and ambition echoing through its halls.
Yet, time had whispered secrets of decline, and the family's splendor had waned like the wilting petals of the flowers in the manor's very own gardens.

Those same gardens, once a tapestry of laughter and childhood whimsy, now lay shrouded in silence. The statues, rumored to have been masterfully chiseled by the skilled hands of Bernini, stood vigil over a forgotten era, with no one to admire them. The guest houses, adorned with elegant facades, that once hosted a steady stream of visitors whose footsteps a constant reminder of the manor's enduring allure, were now dead silent. The halls of the mansion itself seemed to whisper tales of a past era, their emptiness a haunting reminder of the family's diminished legacy.

Antonius Harcourt, the last member of this noble line, sat in his vast study, surrounded by the shadows and paintings of his ancestors. His piercing gaze scanned the pages of some orphanage files, his sharp features illuminated by the room's gentle lighting. His new assistant, a timid soul, stood before him, looking down at his feet in an attempt to avoid the intensity of his master's scowl.

Antonius's long, silky, raven-black hair, pulled into a low ponytail, framed a face both pale and striking, with sharp blue upturned eyes that seemed to bore into the soul. The beauty mark beneath his right eye and his full pink lips hinted at a seductive charm, yet his demeanor remained cold, unapproachable, and volatile. His assistant knew better than to guess with his master's moods, lest he suffer the same fate as those resting in the depths of their small town's river.

Antonius's gaze lingered on a particular file, a girl, who grew up in the orphanage. His expression darkened, his permanent scowl seemed to worsen, and he abruptly dropped it, his voice devoid of emotion as he spoke, "Bring her to me."