Moments ago

A man with a meticulously groomed beard, its edges trimmed with precision, sat in his office, where candlelight cast a warm glow on his work, augmenting the existing light to create an atmosphere of precision and focus.

His hands had moved with calm deliberation, the scratch of his quill on parchment the only sound as he transcribed the contents of worn documents into neat, crisp paper.

But as the hours slipped by, his expression subtly shifted, and his brows knitted in weariness, etching faint creases on his forehead.

The initial focus and precision began to wane, replaced by a growing fatigue.

Still absorbed in his documentation work, a loud knock echoed through the chamber, shattering his concentration and causing his gaze to dart towards the clock on the wall, its long, slender fingers stretching towards the late hour, a poignant reminder of the night's age.

"Who could it be? … Disturbing my peace at this hour," he muttered, his voice tinged with mild irritation.

The persistent knock finally ceased, and he called out, "Come in! The door's not locked!"

As the door creaked open, the visitor's entrance barely registered in his consciousness, his mind still deeply entwined in the intricacies of his work. His gaze remained fixed on the papers before him.

Yet, his nose twitched, detecting a familiar scent that made him pause, his senses heightened.

He raised his head, and his eyes widened in surprise as he took in the sight of the visitor, his gaze roaming her svelte figure with a mixture of familiarity and admiration.

With a confident smile, he set down his quill and opened his arms in a warm welcome, the gesture effortless and genuine.

"Oh, dear Samantha! What a delightful surprise!"

Lady Samantha gilded towards him with effortless grace, her light steps barely touching the floor, her presence commanding attention.

"Greetings, Mr. Vincent, I hope I find you in good spirits," she said, her voice melodious and soothing.

Mr. Vincent's eyes continued to roam her figure, his gaze tinged with lewdness, his mind momentarily distracted from the task at hand.

He subconsciously licked his lower lip as he hastened to reply, "Yes, yes! I'm in excellent spirits. And even if I weren't, your presence has certainly lifted my mood," his words laced with sincerity and a hint of flirtation.

Lady Samantha noticed his lingering gaze but chose to ignore it. Inwardly, she dismissed him as a persistent admirer, his infatuation with her was nothing new.

Despite his numerous attempts at wooing her having been politely declined, his eyes still betrayed an unbridled desire to hold her in his arms… or perhaps, his bed.

"So… what brings you here, Dear Samantha? Or have you finally come to accept my affections?" He asked, his gaze unconsciously roaming her captivating figure.

Who could blame him, really? The night was wearing on, and the stacks of paperwork still to be tackled had left him tense and stressed.

Then, she appeared—an enchanting beauty who couldn't help but stir up lustful thoughts.

As she elegantly seated herself in the chair before him, he found himself entranced.

She leaned back, steepling her fingers in a gesture of quiet confidence. "Mr. Vincent, I'm here to discuss the new ward I've brought," she said, her face a mask of serenity, unfazed by his earlier remark.

"Don't worry, Dear Samantha, any-" He began, before his expression contorted in confusion. "Wait, what?!"

"Yes, Mr. Vincent, I've brought a new ward," she repeated, her tone calm and unruffled, as if there were nothing unusual about it.

"What?!" he exclaimed, his face contorted in disbelief.

"I thought I must have misheard, but you really did bring a new ward?! How dare you! Who gave you the authority to do such a thing?" His incredulity was palpable.

Lady Samantha's eyebrows arched slightly at his question, but she maintained her composure, her voice serene.

"Mr. Vincent, firstly, I'm here to complete the formalities of his registration, not to seek your approval. Secondly, I suggest you reexamine the hierarchical structure here."

Lady Samantha's calm yet fierce response transformed Mr. Vincent's incredulous expression into one of rage. He slammed his fist on the desk, sending papers flying, but his anger consumed him, rendering him oblivious to the disarray. "SAMANTHA! WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE!" he bellowed, his forehead veins bulging as he pointed a shaking finger at her.

His ire escalated when he saw her nonchalant reaction to his outburst.

Without even glancing at him, she retrieved a small napkin from her robe and delicately dabbed at her skin.

"Mr. Vincent, please contain yourself; your spittle is flying beyond your reach. I'd hate to be splattered by it."

Lady Samantha turned to face him, her calm demeanour unwavering.

"I suppose I must remind you of our roles, as you seem to have forgotten the hierarchy here.

I am neither your subordinate nor your subject; we are equal partners, and you have no authority to address me in such a manner. I possess equal rights as you in this branch, and, in fact, hold a special status.

So, do not act as though I require your permission to take action. I am merely reporting to you for formal registration purposes."

Her words had the effect of a bucket of cold water, slowly extinguishing his anger.

He sank back into his seat, attempting to cling to the remnants of his indignation, but it was clear his momentum was lost."

Still attempting to sustain his indignation, Mr. Vincent's voice rose slightly as he said, "Samantha, regardless of your stature in the outside world or whose progeny you are, you don't wield that status here! Madam, come back to reality; you're in my domain!"

Lady Samantha's gaze lingered on Mr Vincent for a moment, her expression unreadable.

Then, a subtle crack appeared in her composed facade, and a low, sly chuckle escaped her lips.

Normally, her smile would have captivated Mr Vincent, but now, his face reddened further as he noticed the derisive smile playing on her lips.

"Mr. Vincent, I'd rather not let this situation escalate further," she said while still maintaining a confident pose.

Upon hearing her words, Mr Vincent's simmering anger unexpectedly dissipated, despite her lack of apology and the lingering smirk on her lips.

As a man who valued control, he knew how to balance his emotions and prioritise work— a crucial asset in his line of work.

Thus, he set his anger aside, along with the visible tension in his veins, and spoke in the kindest yet firmest tone he could muster.