The age of steam — when the raw, heaving breath of the locomotive shook the capital of the Empire to its foundations. Wherever the iron rails stretched, money and romance bloomed in equal measure, and "train travel" had become the hottest topic in Imperial society.
And here, burning to place herself at the very center of that conversation, stood one very impatient young noblewoman.
"A train! It's practically a hotel that moves!"
Lia Crimson. Flame-red hair, eyes the clear blue of an autumn sky — she clutched the luxurious first class express ticket in both hands as though it might vanish if she loosened her grip. It was the hard-won prize of several sleepless days and nights spent wearing down her father, Count Richard Crimson, until he finally relented.
The thought of escaping the gilded cage of home and wandering the continent at last made her heart swell. Her first journey, free and entirely her own. Just imagining it was perfect.
— Right up until this particular uninvited guest appeared before her.
"All preparations are complete, my lady."
Lia's head snapped around at the sound of that voice — a voice she knew far too well, and had very much hoped to leave behind.
Beneath softly falling golden hair, a pair of unusually cool, clear blue eyes curved toward her in a gentle smile. Ed, the youngest head butler in the history of the Crimson household, stood before her. In his hand was a first class ticket identical to hers.
Lia stepped squarely into his path before he could board.
"I finally thought I'd get to go alone! Ed, forget it — I'll pay you. Take this chance, take a vacation, go somewhere, do something for yourself."
"If the Count found out, he'd have my head."
"Father isn't here! And I'm your employer, aren't I?"
"Have you forgotten? He agreed to let you go only on the condition that I accompany you."
"But — that's exactly why I'm offering you money!"
Ed smiled — a small, dry thing.
"I'm afraid I value my neck more than your coin, my lady."
"Th — this is insubordination!"
She planted her hands on her hips and fixed him with her sharpest glare, but Ed didn't so much as blink. Instead he stepped closer, glancing pointedly at the elaborate leather bag hanging from her wrist, and let out a measured sigh.
"Say what you will — the Count has already sanctioned my presence. And more to the point…"
He leaned in, lowering his voice to something just above a whisper, warm and unhurried, meant only for her ear.
"My lady, your relationship with money is, to put it charitably, catastrophic. Someone has to look after you."
"Wh — what? Catastrophic?"
"Who was it, last month, who nearly handed over half the household's monthly food budget to a street vendor for accessories she was convinced were genuine gemstones?"
"That — that was because the old man was a swindler, it wasn't my fault — !"
"If I send you out alone, I give it even odds you'll have gambled away the clothes off your back before the train reaches the first whistle-stop."
Lia opened her mouth, closed it, and felt her face go red. Infuriating. Worse, she couldn't argue with a single word of it.
She turned on her heel and stomped into the compartment, each step a small declaration of outrage. Ed watched her go, and smiled — quietly, to himself, in a way she couldn't see. A smile carrying something deep and long-settled.
"And yet, here I am beside her again."
Twenty years old, the two of them — the same age, and yet their beginnings could not have been more opposite.
Ed had been a dying orphan, passed from hand to hand by a vile slave trader, ground down to almost nothing. The man who had pulled him out of that hell was Lia's father, Count Crimson.
The Count's original intention had been simple: take the boy in, place him in a decent orphanage, give him a fair start. But ten-year-old Ed had walked into the Crimson estate, caught one glimpse of Lia — that small, bright child with flame-red hair flying around her, beaming at him as though he were someone worth smiling at — and quietly rearranged every plan he had for his future.
*I will not go to the orphanage. Even as a servant — please, let me stay here. Let me spend my life in this house.*
From that day forward, Ed had worked with everything he had. He absorbed every discipline, every point of etiquette, every branch of learning like a man with something to prove — because he did. He earned his butler's certification faster than anyone before him, and took his place in the Crimson household with his head held high. All of it driven by a single, unwavering purpose: to stand at Lia's back.
"Ed! What are you doing out there? My diary is in the bag you left in the luggage car!"
Lia's voice rang out from the open compartment window, yanking him back to the present. He looked up at her — demanding, oblivious, gloriously impractical.
*My hopelessly impractical young lady. You are an enormous amount of work.*
"Coming now, my lady."
He inclined his head in a precise, unhurried bow, and followed her inside.
With a lurch and a rumble, the train began to move — and their rather extraordinary journey began.