“Isadora, wake up! Tristan is visiting today, and he’s already at the gate. We need you to receive him!” The urgency in Cassandra’s voice jolted me out of my sleep.
I quickly threw on a presentable dress, ran a comb through my hair, and made my way to the kitchen to gather some refreshments for the guest.
In my past life, Tristan Gordondale was a name I had heard only in passing, as someone powerful and influential, but also untouchable. Now, I was about to meet him face-to-face.
As I neared the reception hall, the unmistakable scent of rare, expensive cologne met my senses—a luxurious blend of spice and citrus that seemed to announce its owner’s importance.
Tristan Gordondale, impeccably dressed in a finely tailored coat, sat with an air of casual confidence, his golden hair gleami
