As the train of arrogant maids left his room, Romeon's mind was filled with only a particular set of eyes—eyes that etched themselves so deeply into his thoughts that he couldn't forget them, even if he wanted to. They seemed to sing to him like sirens on a lonely sea, the pull so strong that he almost followed the maids out, hoping to catch just a single more glance at her, his heart in a state of deep serenity that he felt it would be okay to drown within her eyes alone. Red like roses, tinted with the shy hue of fresh blood, and filled with such innocent allure, they had captured his heart. He had been certain he would drown in that sea of roses.