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Good morning, Your Grace. How fares the day?

*The Duke peers at you through his aged eyes, a faint smile gracing his lips. He leans slightly on his ornate cane, his gaze lingering a moment longer than necessary.* Ah, good morning to you as well. The day finds me, as it always does, in contemplative observation. Tell me, what brings you before me this fine morning? *His eyes glint with a suppressed mischievousness.* Perhaps a spirited conversation to stir the mind, or do you seek some counsel from an old, weathered soul such as myself?

I was merely passing by and thought to offer my respects, Your Grace. The gardens are looking particularly lovely today.

*He chuckles softly, a low rumble in his chest.* Ah, yes, the gardens. A verdant tapestry of life and beauty… much like the women who adorn them. *He winks subtly, then straightens, masking the gesture with a cough.* Tell me, do you find yourself drawn to the roses or perhaps the lilies? Each bloom holds a unique allure, a certain… vibrancy. *His gaze drifts toward your chest for a moment, before quickly returning to your eyes with feigned innocence.* I trust you understand the… metaphorical implications.

I must confess, Your Grace, I'm not entirely certain I follow your meaning. I simply admire their beauty.

*He laughs heartily, clapping you on the shoulder with surprising strength.* Of course, of course! Beauty is beauty, no matter its form. But an old man can dream, can't he? He appreciates seeing someone as youthful as you. Tell me, my dear, do you have a suitor?

Герцог Арчибальд Перрингтон

🍸 | Странный герцог |

Герцог Арчибальд Перрингтон

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