They are just servants.
In the Silvaris Dukedom, that truth is carved deep into their bones long before they learn to walk the halls properly.
As servants, they are expected to be loyal without question, obedient without complaint, and always mindful of their place. Respect is not something they offer, it is something they live by. And above all else, they are taught the most important rule of all:
'See, hear and know nothing.'
To outsiders, being a servant of House Silvaris is a privilege few noble households can offer and they know this well.
They are given quarters so fine they would be considered a luxury even by the standards of the slums. Their tables are filled with warm meals and rich flavors that common folk outside the gates could only dream of tasting. Their wages are generous, far better than what other noble houses are willing to pay.
It is enough to make anyone grateful.
And they are grateful.
Grateful enough to lower their eyes when the Duke passes, to still their breath when his shadow crosses the corridor, and to endure in silence because being dismissed from Silvaris does not simply mean losing a position, but being sent elsewhere where mercy is rare and cruelty comes cheap.
Duke Draen Silvaris himself is a vision that makes even seasoned servants falter for a heartbeat.
Handsome in a way that feels almost unreal, as though a master painter carved him from oil and light.
Some even swear they could stare at him for an entire day and never grow tired of the sight.
But admiration never lasts long because everyone in this Dukedom knows the truth that follows immediately after.
Beauty does not soften his hand.
The Duke is merciless to those who cross the line. One misstep, act of disrespect and a moment of foolish curiosity, everything the servants cherish can be taken away in an instant.
So, they smile when required, bow when called and forget what they see the moment they turn their backs.
After all, they are just servants.
However, Draen was lenient toward those who remained loyal.
He treated his people with respect, though his presence alone made even the bravest servants tremble.
Still, that fear did little to outweigh their gratitude. In the Silvaris Dukedom, serving the Duke did not only change a servant's life, but their family's as well.
Owning nearly half of the empire and wielding power that rivaled even the Imperial family, Draen funded charities, orphanages, and sponsorships that gave his servants' families a chance to rise and live differently.
Because of that, their gratitude toward him ran deep.
So, when word spread that their master had finally taken a bride, someone dear enough to stand at his side, closer than any servant ever could, the entire Dukedom buzzed with quiet excitement.
Whispers turned into giggles as they eagerly awaited a glimpse of the Duke's bride.
All except for one small detail.
The bride was under the protection of two elite members of the Vanguard Order, Leo and Edrik.
On top of that, the Duke's trusted butler kept a close watch on the bride as well while leaving the servants with nothing to do but grit their teeth in frustration. Between the elite guards and the ever-watchful butler, it felt as though the bride had been completely monopolized.
"What should we do? The cake we baked for hours!" wailed a freckled girl with curly orange hair, exaggerating her misery as she pouted at the cake resting on the table. "Oh gosh…"
"But what if His Lordship doesn't even like sweets?" the woman with her hair neatly tied in a bun sighed dramatically with her large eyes filled with worry. "What if he prefers something else?"
"How about cookies?" suggested a slightly older woman with short hair, her tone thoughtful. "Not too sweet, but not too bland either."
The other two froze then their eyes widened as they stared at her in unison.
"Oh my, Linda, you're a genius!" the freckled girl, Neri, exclaimed as she threw her arms around the older woman. A second later, Lisa joined in, hugging her just as tightly.
"Hmph. How do you think I survived here if I weren't?" Linda replied with a smug smirk.
"Oh, what would we do without you? Boohoo!" Lisa cried while pressing her face against Linda's chest, with Neri quickly following suit.
"Hey, don't you dare wipe your snot on my uniform!" Linda snapped while knocking their heads lightly with both hands.
The two servants groaned in exaggerated pain, breaking into laughter soon after.
"Alright, let's bake cookies too. We can't lose to the other groups, okay? I heard they're preparing ice cream for His Lordship!" Neri said as she tightened the ties of her apron with determination.
"What? Ice cream?" Lisa gasped. "Now that you mention it, I heard the servants in the western wing are making handmade embroidery as a gift. Do you think we should do that instead of baking cookies and cakes?"
The moment the words left her mouth, the other two turned to glare at her that made Lisa immediately flinched.
"You idiot!" Linda snapped. "Do you really think His Grace lacks the funds to buy handkerchiefs?"
"Hey, it's the thought that counts, right?" Lisa muttered weakly.
"Right and our thought is baking," Neri cut in quickly. "Let them do whatever they want. Come on! We can't let them meet His Lordship first. Remember, we were the first to hear that His Grace finally has a bride!"
She clasped her hands in front of her face, eyes sparkling as she drifted into her thoughts. "I bet he's beautiful… and I really hope he's kind too."
With their argument done, the three eventually focused on their baking while the other servants too are also busy making efforts to win Lewis by their own way.
Meanwhile, inside the greenhouse, Alon, Lewis, and Draen sat together over a quiet cup of tea.
This was only after Draen had finally taken a bath since Lewis had outright refused to sit anywhere near him while he still smelled like blood.
Even now, Lewis couldn't relax.
Draen had pulled him onto his lap as if it were the most natural thing in the world, cradling him there like a child. Lewis sat stiffly, face burning with embarrassment with every piece of his muscle feeling tense as he tried not to squirm.
"Y-Your Grace?" Lewis asked, sweat beading at his temples as his fingers fidgeted nervously in his own lap.
"Hm?" Draen hummed, sounding amused while nuzzling on his shoulder. "What is it, my bride?"
'What is it, my bride?' Lewis nearly choked on his own thoughts. 'What do you mean, what is it? I'm sitting on your lap like a kid, that's what it is. And do you really have to call me 'my bride' every single time?'
He swallowed hard, realizing once again that none of those words would ever leave his mouth.
So, Lewis just sat there while sweating, silent, and painfully aware of every heartbeat while Draen continued to hold him as if nothing in the world was amiss.
'Haa, is he being sweet or what?'