Chapter 4: The Cousin, the Countess, and the Casual Spiral into Chaos
It didn’t take long—six months, to be exact—for our hero (or, perhaps more accurately, our soon-to-be-tragic hero) Lucien d’Armoire to adjust to his new life.
Why?
Because, for a modern-day salary slave who once cried over cup noodles and blackout deadlines, this was heaven.
He had everything a soul-traumatized corporate drone could ever ask for:
Looks? Check. He had cheekbones sharp enough to slice through existential dread and hair that looked like it was styled by divine intervention.
Wealth? Please. The man drank his morning juice from a golden glass so heavy it could double as a weapon.
Nobility? He was the nobility now. Baron Lucien d’Armoire, the certified Pretty Boy of the Southern Province™.
Plotline obligations? Hah! Pass.
Impending biological crises like heat and rut? ...Well, not yet. (That’s his future problem.)
So what did he do?
He lived.