Ophelia Blackmoor had those strikingly clear, bright blue eyes, porcelain skin, and jet-black hair that flowed like night itself. Her smile was effortlessly graceful, her eyes carried a quiet melancholy, and every move she made, from the way she walked to how she spoke, just oozed elegance. Honestly, if we're going full-on hyperbole? When Ophelia smiled, the flowers in the garden would probably bloom just to catch a glimpse.
Maybe it sounded over the top. But that's exactly how Etien saw her. To him, Ophelia was the kind of woman who looked stunning doing literally anything. Perfect, every single time. What Etien didn't notice, though, was that Glen had been doing the same thing, stealing glances at Lady Ophelia without blinking. The Emperor watched Etien watching her, and his gaze said more than words ever could.
