"How did our guest react to what you said?" the young man asked mildly, lifting the camera to his eye once more.
Click.
The shutter sound echoed softly through the enormous room.
Evening light spilled through the tall arched windows behind him, washing the vintage furniture in gold. Framed photographs covered one entire wall—black-and-white portraits, landscapes, candid moments stolen from afar. The room smelled faintly of old paper, polished wood, and expensive cologne.
The young man standing in the center of it all looked utterly at ease.
"She raised a brow at me, blinked a few times, then asked for black pajamas instead of gowns," Alice replied from behind him, posture straight as a rod, hands folded neatly before her apron. "She also requested one steak for dinner, along with a full-topping boba tea for her drink, Young Master."
The young man paused mid-adjustment of the lens.
A faint smile tugged at his lips.
"Boba tea?"
"Yes, Young Master."
