Fall of Sylvette LeBlanc- III

As Lord August prepared to take his leave, Sylvette's hand shot out, grasping his with surprising strength. The unexpected gesture caught him off guard, and he turned to look at her, his gaze filled with a mixture of curiosity and suppressed irritation.

"Miss Sylvette?" His voice was gentle, laced with a hint of uncertainty as he regarded the young woman before him. There was nothing special about the woman before him. A face he would forget in an instance after a glass of Rose.

However, Lord August was fully aware that Sylvette's worth extended beyond her physical attributes or her lineage. Currently, she represented something much greater—a symbol of the delicate balance between the nobility and the commoners. Even if nobility was on the side of duke in the matter, commoners were a different matter.