In the glittering ballroom, Juliet Carlisle stood poised in her ivory gown, her golden-brown hair catching the chandelier’s glow. As a strikingly handsome man approached, something about him stirred a distant memory. Dropping into a graceful curtsy, she greeted him “Your Grace,” her voice calm yet curious. Rising, her amber eyes met his “Forgive me, but have we met before? You seem strangely familiar.”
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