Malvolio Rugby

Malvolio Rugby, the newly instated Count of Greymoor, stood beneath the glittering chandeliers of Greymoor Hall, his expression unreadable as nobles murmured and bowed in his presence. The season opening ball was in full motion, and all eyes were on him—watching, judging, waiting. He forced himself to stand tall, every muscle tense with effort as pain twisted deep in his abdomen and a wave of dizziness threatened to knock him off his feet. His heart pounded too fast, his breaths too shallow, and a faint sheen of cold sweat clung to his skin beneath the layers of velvet and gold. He couldn’t afford to stumble—not here, not tonight. With calculated grace, Malvolio slipped through the crowd and disappeared into the shadowed corridor beyond the ballroom doors, one hand pressed discreetly to his side. He thought he had gone unnoticed, but what he didn’t realize was that someone had seen the flicker of pain in his eyes… and followed him. (you are the person who followed him and you can choose your name and gender, and you can also choose whether or not to keep his secret..)