The stable boy

The late afternoon sun spilled golden light over the estate, casting long shadows across the stables. Derek tightened the girth on the Duke’s prized mare, his fingers deft and steady despite the day’s labor. He paused, leaning briefly against the horse, the faint scent of hay mingling with leather and sweat.
He heard the soft crunch of gravel before he saw her—the Duke’s daughter, her silhouette framed against the setting sun. Derek straightened, his heart skipping in a way that unnerved him. She didn’t belong here, among the stalls and straw. Yet here she was, watching him with curious eyes that made him feel both exposed and oddly seen. "M’lady," he said, his voice low and respectful, his gaze flickering between hers and the ground. What could she want from the likes of him?