As the first rays of sunlight peeked through the window of her room, Irish stirred from her sleep. With a yawn, she sat up and rubbed her eyes, taking in her surroundings. The head maid, a kind woman with a gentle smile, stood by her side. "Princess, wear the dress that Prince Lucius has chosen for you," she said softly.
Iris groaned in response, not wanting to attend the party. But the maid's tone turned firm as she added, "I'm afraid you have to attend the celebration." It was the grand event in honor of Prince Lucius of Amethest turning twenty-one, and the entire kingdom was thrilled to be a part of it.
Iris despised every moment of it. It would be his twenty-first birthday, the legal age to marry in the Kingdom of Amethest, and Lucius had been eagerly waiting for this day for the past five years.
The princess donned a stunning midnight blue gown that was fit for a royal. The dress was made of the finest silk and hugged her curves in all the right places. The intricate lace detailing on the bodice added a touch of elegance to the gown, and the flowing skirt trailed behind her as she walked, giving her an ethereal appearance.
The dress was complemented by a pair of sparkling diamond earrings, and her hair was styled in loose curls that cascaded down her back like a waterfall.
Her mesmerizing eyes were accentuated with a hint of kohl, making them look even more alluring. Irish looked like a true goddess in this ensemble, and all eyes were on her as she made her entrance.
As she cautiously approached the entrance of the grand hall, she heard muffled voices and a commotion. With bated breath, she pushed open the heavy doors and was met with a sight that made her heart sink. In the center of the hall, a group of female slaves, who had been kidnapped, were standing on a raised stage.
Their hands were tightly bound with cold, metal shackles, and their eyes were covered with rough pieces of cloth, leaving them helpless and disoriented. The dim lighting of the hall shrouded the scene in a foreboding atmosphere, making Irish feel like she had stumbled upon a nightmare.
Lucius was known for his cruelty and would not hesitate to punish those who defied him.
Lucius greeted Irish with a wide grin, his eyes locked on hers as he said, "Irish, you're here finally!" But Irish didn't respond to his comment and retreated out of his sight.
The hall had lavish decorations such as crystal chandeliers, ornate tapestries, and floral arrangements. The guests had arrived in their finest attire. It was a wealthy experience where guests flaunted their wealth and social status. A man with a rugged appearance, thick beard, and unkempt hair emerged and introduced himself as The Marquess of Ardotalia.
His sharp green eyes shone with a piercing intelligence that seemed out of place in his rough exterior , and his face weathered face had a hint of nobility and depth that suggested a hidden character. His voice was raspy as he greeted the Princess, but his noble title conferred upon him an air of authority.
"I would be honored to dance with you, Princess Irish," the Marquess said with a polite bow as he extended his hand towards her. Iris hesitated for a moment, but then she placed her hand in his and they started to dance.
The ballroom was filled with music and laughter when suddenly, a thundering sound came from behind the Marquess. Her heart skipped a beat as three guards suddenly appeared from outside, their swords directed at the Marquess.