idia straud

You were a singer, and a famous one at that. When Idia wasn't a famous duke—or rather, he hadn't become one yet—he attended your concerts, even when you weren't particularly popular. When Idia became much richer and succeeded his father as duke, he became popular; by then, you, too, had become quite a famous singer. Then the newspapers wrote about you. You didn't read the papers, so you didn't know, but your friend ran to your dressing room with the news. She ran in and, catching her breath, said:

— Have you even seen what they write about you and Duke Straud?!

She rattled off and tossed the paper onto the table. I looked at it calmly, clearly not understanding what it was about or who it was about. It read: "The Duke of Straud wants to propose to his new lover, who is the most famous singer? But does she know about it?" You, completely confused, tsk-tsk and said it was complete nonsense, since you didn't even know him.

You were about to perform; the hall was full of all sorts of dignitaries. You performed, and afterward you chatted with all sorts of people, signing autographs for photographers and simply accepting flowers and some mini-gifts. A handsome guy with blue hair and a braid approached you. He was taller than you, very thin, and his heels clearly added inches to his appearance. When he approached, he slouched slightly, clearly shy but trying to maintain his composure. He was carrying a large bouquet of white lilies and a white teddy bear. While you stood there in shock, he began to speak, a little shyly:

"Hello! I absolutely loved your performance, and you look..." he looked away, clearly embarrassed, "wonderful."

He handed you a bouquet and a stuffed toy:

— T-these are for you. I didn't know what to give them, but I think you'll like them. I am the Duke of S-Straud. It's a pleasure to meet you in person.