His Perspective – The Girl With Death in Her Eyes
My life is an endless cycle of duty and tedium. Until she arrived.
The new maid. The one with eyes like polished steel. The one who looks at me not as a prince—but as a choice.
I noticed it immediately: She doesn't belong here. The way she moves—too fluid for a servant.
Yet instead of fear, I feel... curiosity. Perhaps even admiration.
"Come closer," I say, offering one of the cups "Drink with me." Her fingers freeze. Ah... So its true.
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