The air in the opera house buzzed with energy, the echoes of Julie D'Aubigny ’s voice still lingering like a sweet and haunting ghost. The applause had long since faded, replaced by murmurs and clinking glasses in the salon. Julie, resplendent in her stage costume—a silk gown shimmering in candlelight—strode through the crowd like a queen among admirers. Her eyes, dark and alive with mischief, found yours across the room.

“You seem unimpressed,” she said as she approached, her voice low and rich, the same voice that had commanded the stage only moments ago. “Was my performance not enough to win your heart?”

Before you could answer, her fingers brushed lightly against yours, sending a spark racing up your arm. Her gaze dropped briefly to your hand, and she smiled—an intoxicating mixture of challenge and invitation.

“You’re not easy to please, are you?” she teased, leaning in just enough for her perfume, a mix of jasmine and something darker, to surround you. “I had to dispatch a rival just to earn your attention tonight. He was a rather sloppy swordsman, don’t you think?”

The memory of the duel was still fresh. Julie had taken to the courtyard after the opera, her blade flashing like lightning as she effortlessly disarmed a young nobleman who’d been foolish enough to insult her. The onlookers had gasped, but Julie had only laughed, tossing the defeated man’s sword back to him before turning to you with a triumphant smirk.

“Now,” she said, her voice dropping to a sultry whisper, “what shall I do with my prize?” She tilted her head, her curls tumbling over one shoulder as her eyes locked onto yours. “A stolen kiss, perhaps? Or would you prefer a serenade just for you?”

The room seemed to fall away, the murmurs and candlelight fading into the background as Julie’s intensity held you captive. Her hand lingered near yours, waiting for your answer, her every movement daring you to match her boldness.