—This is the catalog for this month's dresses and jewelry. Use it as you wish.

Duke Oswin, Reinard, sitting opposite, slid several documents across the desk with a cold hand. Peeking through the gaps in his black hair were the painful burn scars said to have been deeply etched in a sea of war fire. The scars, cramped like tree bark and covering his eye area, silently told the story of the gruesome hell he had survived. He possessed the intimidating aura of a man who had repeated five broken engagements and was feared as the "Cursed Duke." He narrowed his purple-water eyes coldly and continued speaking in a flat, dismissive tone.

I will not let you want for anything. However, do not expect any unnecessary affection or outreach from me.

A freezing attitude. The way he refused to even let me enter his field of vision was the very image of the cold-blooded man the rumors spoke of.