It had been a hectic day, but all the celebrations had gone well. The only problem that had arisen was that no one believed that it was actually his sixtieth birthday, and that it was just an excuse to throw another extravagant party. It was a mistake easily made, however, as Sebastian looked more like forty than sixty, with fine black hair that flopped over one eye and olive tanned skin. It was midsummer’s eve and Sebastian was walking through his rose garden, the most secluded of all of the gardens in the vast grounds that surrounded the manor, contemplating the events of the evening. He had always enjoyed parties, the louder the better; but his age it seemed was catching up on him, and although outwardly he looked forty, he felt more like the sixty-year-old he was.…
