Rita was sure she heard clearly. Her hearing was exceptionally sharp.

There was no way it could be Maddy.

No, Maddy wouldn’t even come from that direction.

Maybe it was one of her step-siblings?

No. If those people wanted to humiliate or bother her, they wouldn’t hide; they’d show themselves and taunt her.

Even her father wouldn’t do anything as stupid as stalking her. He didn’t even glance at Rita much.

So who?

At this point, Rita’s heart was tied in a tight coil. She could hear her heartbeat ringing, her pulse spiking.

But amid the fright, her mana pathways got to work, and the air mana in them began to circulate with incredible speed, her two circles surging with power.

Soon after, her silver gaze was overridden by a luminous green glow. And she held her hands high, ready to cast an attacking spell.

"Whoever you are," Rita growled, her beautiful face scrunching into an annoyed expression, "you better show yourself now."

Click–!

That sound echoed once more.

Just as Rita was about to cast the spell on instinct, a low voice resounded:

"Calm down."

Her eyes widened as she heard that voice. It sounded young, like it belonged to a youth. Someone her age. A man.

An assassin? An attacker?

No, if they were, they would have attacked by now.

She still didn’t lower her hands, her frown still very much active.

"Show yourself!"

The young man sighed.

"I didn’t plan to do this."

Margarita heard a grunt, and then a small sound like a person landing.

She remained guarded, even tying her hair into a bun, lowering her stance.

She squinted her eyes, trying to get a good view of the stranger.

His figure was blurred by a coalition of green plants. They blocked her sight.

But as Margarita gazed, she noticed that the man had begun taking slow steps toward her.

She raised her hand, air mana glowed around her wrists, and above her palm, a green magical circle, etched with intricate runic symbols, hovered. A glyph.

"Don’t come any closer!"

The man paused.

"Uh..." he uttered, his voice was a little low now, softer. "Please, lower your spell. I do not mean to harm you."

Rita scoffed.

"You’re a stranger. One who has trespassed into this estate by jumping the walls. You were even stalking me!"

The man, hidden by the plants, raised his hands in defense, waving them.

"No.. I... I wasn’t stalking! Seriously, I didn’t expect anyone to be here, I just came to–"

Detecting his movement, Rita raised a hand once more, yelling:

"Stay where you are, stalker!"

"My Lady, I am not a stalker. Please. I also have a question."

"Make one more move, and I’ll blow your head with a wind arrow. And I’ll also scream and alert the guards."

The man remained silent, standing in the same position, not moving an inch.

"I’m here. I’m not moving."

Once she detected that he really wasn’t moving, Margarita’s heart calmed down, and she lowered her hands and her defensive stance, breathing out in apparent relief, shoulders slumping.

"Um, My Lady–"

"Quiet," she said.

Rita began to move toward him. Slowly and cautiously, like he was a dangerous criminal.

As she approached him, she moved side ways, a place where the plants couldn’t hinder her line of sight. And she stood.

She was about fifteen feet apart from the man.

Gazing at the man, Rita’s eyes widened.

The man was dressed in a quite regal outfit. Well, more casual than regal, but his demeanor and the way he carried himself created a kind of regality around him that his dark, long-sleeve shirt and similarly dark trousers couldn’t hide. Not even the dark robe covering said shirt and trousers impartially could dull the regality.

The man had striking blue hair that framed a rather handsome face. A sharp jawline, small pink lips, and a narrow pair of deep blue eyes that complemented his hair.

The color of his eyes and his hair reminded Rita of the oceans she’d seen pictures of in books and stories.

The man’s blue eyes looked warm, so warm. They held depth, she could feel. An enormous depth that she couldn’t seem to fathom.

He had a smile on his small lips. The smile was a warm one, a happy smile. A beautiful smile.

Rita blinked.

The man gazed at her like he was looking at a lost treasure he’d found after countless years of searching.

This made her tilt her head. And she put her hands on her waist.

He was a... curious young man.

"So," Rita still didn’t lower her guard, "not a thief."

’More like a noble?’

How intriguing.

The man didn’t move, he kept gazing at Rita, looking at her with a weird type of smile no one had ever flashed at her before. Not even Maddy smiled at her that way, not even Olive.

He finally chuckled. But as she gazed at him for a long time, she spotted a slight flush of pink around his neck.

She raised a brow.

"No," the man said. "Not a thief."

The guardedness had long vanished from Rita at this point.

She crossed her arms.

"An assassin then? Come to target my father? The all-black outfit checks out."

The man appeared flustered for a while.

"No," he finally said. "I’m also not an assassin. I," he gazed at his outfit, wincing. Maybe he did overdo it with the all black, "I figured this would be the best to blend in and avoid eyes. I came here to verify if this family is really the one holding the High Ball tomorrow, but I didn’t expect to see you–"

"Stalker."

The man blinked.

"No, I’m not–"

"What are you then?"

The man took one step closer.

Rita furrowed her brows, gazing at the ankle-high boot wrapping around his feet, then his smiley face.

The man raised a brow, as if asking for permission to move.

’How cute,’ she thought. 𝕗𝗿𝕖𝐞𝐰𝗲𝕓𝐧𝕠𝕧𝗲𝐥.𝚌𝐨𝚖

At that moment, Rita smiled. But, catching herself, she quickly hid her smile, and cleared her throat.

The man seemingly saw that as a yes.

He walked toward her. And then he stopped, when they were only about five feet apart.

Rita gazed at him, almost straining her neck to get a good look at his face.

’He’s tall.’

In such close... proximity, she got hit with his scent. He smelled... vanilla? A pleasant scent, if she said so herself.

Before she could process his true scent, the man in front of her lowered his head, right palm touching his chest in a curtsey.

With a warm smile that’d strangely become pleasing in Rita’s eyes, he looked up to her, so that his blue eyes bore into her silver.

Rita blinked. This man. This young man.

The way he looked at her... it was...

A subtle warmth crept up her heart, and it seemed to spread to her skin, to her cheeks, too.

"My Lady, would you permit me to be so presumptuous as to ask for your name?"

Rita outstretched her hand.

The young man chuckled, and took her soft, slender hand. And then, he kissed it.

"Margarita D’Silvester," she said, withdrawing her hand. "And you are, stalker?"

He stood up straight, hitting her with that same gaze once more.

Rita had to avert her eyes, looking away from his gaze. It was dangerous. Made her feel somehow...

Loved?

Ugh.

"Stalker," the man seemed to chew on the new title he’d been given. He chuckled, looking away. "I’m Maxwell."