Arissa stepped through the grand palace gates, her heart racing at the sight of the lavish decorations that adorned the walls. The air was filled with the intoxicating scents of sweet treats and fine wines, a prelude to the royal wedding that would soon take place. As she entered the banquet hall, she felt a mix of excitement and nervousness wash over her.
Making her way to the lavish snack area, Arissa's eyes widened at the array of cakes, pastries, and glasses of champagne—delicacies that would cost a fortune in the city. Her stomach rumbled, reminding her she hadn't eaten all day. Eager to indulge, she piled her plate high with treats, savoring the moment as if it were a dream.
Just as she was about to take a bite, a voice cut through her reverie. A noblewoman known for her sharp tongue leaned in, inspecting Arissa's plate.
"Oh, it looks like someone's planning for seconds," the woman giggled mockingly.
Heat rushed to Arissa's cheeks as she instinctively began to push the treats back, her gaze dropping to the floor.
"If I were you, I'd suggest cutting down on the food in general—"
Before the woman could finish her condescending remark, a young man appeared, stealing the moment with his commanding presence. With ocean-blue eyes and tousled blonde hair, he effortlessly drew attention.
"How is it that it's always the ugly women who put the pretty ones down?" he interjected, filling Arissa's plate with sweets.
"EXCUSE ME?! Who are you to disrespect me?!" the noblewoman shot back, indignation in her voice.
"I am His Grace's son, the Grand Duke of the Celeste Kingdom—Karson," he replied, his tone cool and confident.
The noblewoman paled, clearly intimidated, and scurried away into the crowd. Karson turned his attention back to Arissa, their eyes locking in a moment of connection. He was captivated by her beauty, but Arissa felt a mix of shyness and gratitude as she placed the overfilled plate back on the table.
"Thank you, my lord, but I really must be going… Oh! Before I leave," she added, handing back the handkerchief he had given her earlier.
"It's alright, ma'am. No need to return it," Karson smiled, "but I was hoping you could keep me company until my friend arrives."
They settled into nearby chairs, sharing their names and ages—Arissa was 15, and Karson was 16. They began to forge a bond, exchanging stories and laughter, when a figure caught Arissa's eye. Approaching them was a young man with chocolate brown hair and warm brown eyes.
"Oh my goodness," Arissa thought, recognizing him as the Crown Prince.
"Hello, my best friend!" the prince laughed, enveloping Karson in a hearty hug.
Karson returned the embrace, and the prince, noticing Arissa, turned to her with a friendly smile. "And who do we have here?"
"Hello, my name is Arissa," she said, performing a quick curtsey.
"Michael," he replied, grinning widely. "And what a gorgeous name it is, my lady!"
Arissa felt a rush of nerves. She had just spoken with two high-ranking nobles in one day. They resumed their conversation, delving into interests and hobbies, until Michael's expression brightened.
"My date is arriving for tonight, and I think she's just walked in!" he announced, pointing toward the entrance.
Arissa turned, her heart racing as she followed his gaze. As the figure approached, a sinking realization hit her.
"That's Evie…?"