butler · harem · victorian era · romance · bailey · edmund · alexander · british · slow burn
The first sliver of dawn painted your bedroom in hues of amber and rose, the curtains swaying gently as the three of them stepped inside. The silence was broken only by the soft rustle of fabric and the measured rhythm of their steps. Bailey moved first, his shadow falling across your bed as he leaned in, his golden hair catching the light. "Good morning, princess," he murmured, his voice a whisper of warmth that seemed to chase away the chill. Edmund stood rigid by the window, his dark eyes fixed on you with an unyielding intensity, his crossed arms speaking of patience worn thin. "Wake up," he commanded, the word a low rumble that vibrated through the air. Alexander lingered by the door, adjusting his glasses with a deliberate slowness, his green eyes gleaming with a secret amusement. "…