The water in the basin was cool and clear when Noel splashed it over his face. He leaned forward, hands gripping the edges of the porcelain, letting the liquid run down his neck and drip back into the bowl. The scent was light... floral, clean, with a fresh edge that reminded him of early mornings in a garden.
He straightened up, wiping his face with a soft towel, and caught his reflection in the mirror above the vanity.
His skin looked smooth and bright, almost glowing in the morning light coming through the window.
'No wonder everyone stares at me whenever they get the chance to', he thought. 'This face is too perfect. Like it was made for advertisements.'
"That explains a lot," he said out loud.
Rowan stood a few steps behind him, arms crossed, watching carefully.
"Explains what, my lord?"
Noel waved a hand toward his reflection. "Why do I look like this. Too polished. Too... high-end."
Rowan paused for a moment, then answered in his usual even tone. "The water is collected as morning dew."
Noel turned his head slowly. "Morning dew?"
"Yes," Rowan said. "The maids gather it at dawn from the roses in the eastern garden. Then they mix it with the scented oil you prefer. It's prepared fresh every day."
Noel stared at him.
Every day. By hand. At dawn.
He looked over at the three maids standing quietly near the door, waiting for instructions. They kept their eyes down, focused on folding towels or arranging combs.
"All this effort," Noel said slowly, "just for my face? You wake up that early... for me?"
Rowan nodded once. "It has been the routine since you were young."
Noel felt something twist in his chest. In his old world, no one had ever done anything like this for him... not without expecting payment or favour.
He cleared his throat.
"Thank you," he said, looking directly at the maids. "Really. I mean it. That's a lot of work, and I appreciate it."
The maids reacted immediately.
One let out a small gasp. Another pressed her hands together in front of her chest. Their faces turned pink, eyes wide and shining.
"It's our honour, young master," the first one said quickly.
"We are happy to do it," another added, bowing deeply.
Noel smiled, softer this time. It was clear they weren't used to hearing thanks from him... or from anyone in this house.
Once they recovered and stood straight again, Noel leaned back against the vanity, crossing his arms loosely.
"Since you're all here," he said, voice turning curious and light, "tell me what you know about the Ashford brothers."
The maids brightened instantly, exchanging quick glances.
They started talking all at once.
"They're so powerful..."
"Everyone's afraid of them..."
"And handsome..."
Noel raised one finger. "One at a time, please."
He pointed to the maid closest to the window, the one who had brought the basin.
"You start."
She smoothed her apron nervously, then nodded.
"Lord Arthur Ashford," she began. "He's the oldest, the heir to the whole family fortune."
Noel listened closely.
"He's very tall, broad in the shoulders. Always wears black suits, even in warm weather. His hair is silver-blond and it's always combed back neatly. His eyes are steel-blue and they are cold and sharp. Like he can see everything you're thinking."
Rowan shifted his weight slightly, but said nothing.
"He runs the family businesses," the maid went on. "Banks, investments, trade. Nothing happens without his approval. People respect him. Some are scared of him. He doesn't show much emotion."
Noel nodded.
'Tall, controlling, always in black. Matches what I remember from the dark.'
He pointed to the next maid.
"Your turn. Bennett Ashford."
This one smiled a little, voice warmer.
"Lord Bennett is the second brother. He controls the newspapers, the theatres, the magazines... everything that spreads news or entertainment."
She leaned forward slightly.
"His hair is honey-brown, a bit wavy, never quite perfect. His eyes are green and clever. He smiles a lot, sweetly, but people say that's when he's most dangerous. One wrong word, and he can print something that ends a reputation."
Noel felt his mouth curve upward.
'Media control. Paparazzi boss. That explains the photographs and the rumours.'
"He likes discovering new talent," she added. "Actors, singers, artists. If he decides you're worth attention, you become famous fast."
Rowan noticed the interested look on Noel's face and frowned slightly.
Noel pointed to the last maid.
"Now Cedric."
She took a breath as her voice became softer.
"Lord Cedric Ashford is the youngest of the three. He's a surgeon. Very brilliant with medicine and operations."
She described him slowly.
"His hair is black and straight, longer than his brothers'. His eyes are warm brown, but distant. He always wears white gloves, even outside work. He thinks most things are unclean."
Noel raised an eyebrow.
"He's gentle with everything," she continued. "Speaks quietly, moves carefully. Doesn't like loud places or big crowds. He only really relaxes around his brothers... and Lady Evelina."
Noel let out a small laugh. "My former fiancée."
The maids all gasped at once.
"Oh!"
"So that's true?"
"I heard rumours—"
Noel waved a hand. "It's complicated. But thank you. That's helpful."
He straightened up. "You can go with the breakfast now."
One maid hesitated. "Will you be eating soon, my lord? Would you like us to return with a fresh set?"
Noel shook his head. "It's not necessary. I'm not hungry yet."
Rowan spoke up right away. "You need to eat something."
Noel looked at him. "I want something sweet. And I want to go out. I'm going to leave the manor for a bit."
Rowan sighed, knowing there was no point in arguing. He turned to the maids. "Go eat your own meals first. The food will stay warm."
The maids bowed and left quietly.
As soon as the door closed, Noel let the blanket fall from his shoulders and walked toward the large wardrobe across the room, completely bare.
Rowan turned just in time to see.
He froze, eyes fixed on the wall.
Noel disappeared into the closet, pulling out clothes without hurry.
Rowan grabbed the fallen blanket from the floor without thinking. He lifted it to his face for a second... and stopped.
The fabric carried Noel's scent... warm skin, faint floral from the dew water, something sweet underneath.
Rowan's face heated. He dropped the blanket fast and strode to the wardrobe door.
"What are you doing?" he asked, voice tight.
Noel stepped out, half-dressed with his shirt hanging open, trousers fastened but loose.
"Getting ready," Noel said calmly. "I'm going to find one of my ex-fiancée's brothers."
"No."
"Yes."
"Noel..."
"Noel? How cute. You're definitely not going to stop me."
Ten minutes later, Noel was fully dressed. Cream-colored trousers, a pale blue waistcoat that fit close to his body, a white shirt with sleeves rolled once, a cravat tied loosely. He looked clean and very impossible to ignore.
He turned to Rowan. "Do I have money to spend?"
Rowan didn't answer. He just led Noel downstairs to the butler's office.
The butler bowed and handed Noel a small leather folder with blank cheques inside, signed by the family.
Noel opened it, eyes widening slightly. "Unlimited?"
"Within reason," the butler said.
Noel grinned. "Perfect."
Rowan rubbed his forehead. "What exactly are you planning to buy?"
Noel winked. "You'll see."
The carriage ride into the city was short. The streets were busy...vendors shouting about their goods, colourful fabrics hanging from stalls, people laughing and bargaining.
The carriage stopped at the main square, where a large fountain sprayed water in the centre.
Noel jumped down before the driver could help.
He spotted a stall right away and ran over.
"Cotton candy!" he called, excited. He never thought they existed.
The vendor handed him a large pink cloud on a stick.
Noel took a big bite, eyes closing in happiness.
Rowan ordered the driver to wait at a corner, then turned... and saw Noel already eating.
The vendor cleared his throat. "You have to pay up before eating that boy. That'll be two silver coins, sir."
"What! Two silver coins?" Noel stopped mid-bite. "It's not free?"
Rowan stepped forward quickly, paying the man.
He grabbed Noel's arm and pulled him away from the stall. "Don't take things if you can't pay for them."
"I thought it was part of a festival or something."
"This is just the daily market."
Noel nudged him with an elbow. "You're talking pretty casually today, Rowan."
Rowan didn't respond.
He scanned the crowd instead. "Stay close. There have been reports of kidnappings in this area lately. Especially noble sons who were taken for ransom."
Noel laughed. "Trust me, I won't get kidnapped. That's the last thing that would happen to me."
"You..."
"I want something cold now," Noel said, pointing at an ice vendor across the path. "Could you get that shaved ice with syrup? Please?"
Rowan looked at him for a moment, then nodded. "Stay right here. Don't move an inch."
"I won't. I swear."
Rowan walked the short distance to the vendor.
Noel stood waiting, finishing his cotton candy.
Then shadows moved behind him.
Three men... rough clothes, scarred faces... stepped close. One held a length of rope. Another carried a large sack.
"Oho! Would ya look at this? Issa noble," one muttered quietly. "Such fine clothes. He sure would bring a good price."
Noel felt them before he saw them. He smiled faintly, heart beating faster.
'Of course,' he thought. 'Rowan cursed me literally minutes ago.'
The men moved in.