Chapter -1

I stood in the corner of the grand ballroom, clutching a half-filled wine glass, its golden liquid catching the light from the massive crystal chandeliers above.

My heart pounded in my chest, not from excitement but from the heavy weight of isolation.

Rosie's family....

My family was invited to the royal ball;

—a coming-of-age ceremony of princess Humiliana—but not as family. I was here for appearances, nothing more.

A sigh escaped my lips as I swirled the wine absentmindedly, my mind drifting. How did I get here?

"My name is Lillian," I whispered to myself, though no one else would hear.

"I wasn't always Rosie Rossano, daughter of an aristocratic family in this strange, magical world."

My grip tightened around the glass as I recalled the moment of my death—the bus, the cold pavement, the flash of headlights, and then… darkness.

When I awoke, I was in a bed so luxurious that it seemed like something out of a dream. The ceiling above me glittered with jewels and stones, reflecting the soft light of a golden sunset. The walls were adorned with tapestries and velvet curtains, all shimmering in the softest shades of winter's twilight. It felt unreal, like something from a fantasy novel I might have read.

I ran to the mirror that day, terrified and curious, and was met with a face that was too beautiful to belong to me.

A devilishly charming face with flawless skin, splendid dark red hair, and ruby-red eyes that sparkled like the most precious gems. I wasn't Lillian anymore.

I was Rosie Rossano, a girl who had lived in luxury, yes, but at the cost of being emotionally neglected.

My aunt had died, and my uncle, though providing for me as if I were his own, barely acknowledged my existence.

Two weeks had passed since I arrived in this world, yet the loneliness persisted.

Tonight, I had hoped for something different. Maybe this ball would be the moment my adoptive father introduced me to society, acknowledged me as part of the family. But as the evening wore on, my hope dimmed like the last flicker of a dying candle.

I was still standing alone when a young man approached.

"It's nice to meet you, my lady," he began, bowing slightly.

"My name is Anton de Luca, the eldest son of Baron de Luca. It seems like this is your first time at such an event?"

I forced a smile, though inside I was seething.

"I am Rosie Rossano, the youngest daughter of the Rossano family. A pleasure to meet you, Sir Anton."

He gave me a strange look, his tone shifting to something more condescending.

"You don't talk much, do you? Or maybe you find conversations like this bothersome. With your beauty and aura, it must be that you consider such interactions beneath you."

His words made my skin crawl, and though I knew better than to offend someone in my position, I couldn't help myself.

"It's my pleasure to receive such a compliment," I said sweetly,

"but I don't find you nearly as charming as you seem to find me."

Anton's face reddened in irritation.

"How rude! Do you even know who I am? I'm the eldest son of Baron de Luca, and you will regret insulting me."

I should have apologized immediately, but I couldn't bring myself to care.

"My apologies, Sir Anton. It was ignorant of me."

He huffed, murmuring something under his breath about wasted time before walking away, leaving me feeling even more out of place than before.

I needed to escape.

I slipped out onto the balcony, the cool night air instantly calming me. The breeze carried the scent of roses from the garden below, a sprawling masterpiece of red and pink hues.

In the centre stood a grand fountain,

surrounded by a cascade of flowers, their fragrance thick in the air.

Lost in the beauty of the garden, I realized I couldn't take it anymore. This wasn't my life. I had no place in this world of balls and royalty, and I had no desire to stay. The thought struck me,

—maybe I could leave tonight, vanish into the night without a trace.

I glanced over the edge of the balcony. It was a long drop, but nothing I couldn't handle. I could jump into the garden below, make my way out without being noticed, and disappear.

Without another thought, I climbed up onto the ledge and leaped into the night.

I did imagined the ground to be hard; But as I descended, I felt something solid beneath me...

—someone.

I landed perfectly in his arms, my legs instinctively wrapping around his waist.

His cold hands gripped my thighs, sending a sharp, chilling sensation through my skin.

I gasped, looking up into the face of the man who had caught me. His silver eyes glittered under the moonlight, sharp and calculating.

His black hair was as dark as the night sky, and his expression was unreadable...

—detached, cold, and utterly unshaken.

No sign of surprise or intrigue. He simply held me as if this bizarre situation was nothing more than a minor inconvenience.

My heart pounded, but I could see nothing but calm calculation in his eyes.

His features were sharp, almost impossibly perfect,

—high cheekbones, smooth black hair that looked like it belonged to a royal portrait.

For a fleeting moment, I wondered if he found this moment even slightly significant.

But there was no warmth in his gaze, only cold scrutiny. I could tell he found me beautiful; any man with eyes would. But unlike others, he wasn't moved by it.

Instead, I felt as though he was dissecting me with his eyes, assessing the situation with unnerving detachment.

For a moment, we stared at each other. His grip tightened slightly, holding me in place as if I weighed nothing, his touch steady but emotionless. I could feel the coldness of his hands on my thighs, but there was no warmth in his gaze

— Only curiosity.

"Interesting," he finally murmured; His voice, low and calm.

"You've certainly chosen a dramatic entrance."

I opened my mouth to speak, but no words came out. His presence was overpowering, his eyes assessing me with an intensity that made my heart race, not from fear, but from something I couldn't quite place. He was beautiful, in a cold and distant way, but there was no softness in his features. He looked like someone who trusted facts, someone who didn't allow emotion to cloud his judgment.

"Who are you?" he asked, his tone was as cold as the air between us.

"Rosie Rossano," I whispered, with my voice barely audible.

His gaze didn't waver, but there was no recognition in his eyes. He wasn't moved by my beauty, nor by the fact that I had just thrown myself into his arms. To him, I was simply a puzzle.

—something to be figured out, not felt.

"Well, Rosie Rossano," he said, his grip further tightening;

"I hope you have a very good explanation for this."

The swordsmen flanking him had already drawn their swords; their blades inches from my skin, but the man holding me seemed unconcerned. He looked at me as though I was nothing more than a fleeting curiosity, something to be dealt with and then forgotten.

I had fallen into the arms of someone far more dangerous than I could have ever imagined.

For a moment, the only sound was the rustle of the wind and the distant murmur of the ballroom beyond. The man's cold hands held me steady, his grip firm, but not painful. His expression didn't change—he remained unreadable, as if my sudden appearance in his arms hadn't fazed him in the slightest.

I unwrapped my legs from around him and stood, brushing myself off. This might have been a disastrous moment for any other girl, but not for me. The Rosie I once was…

—the Lillian I had been, had dealt with far worse than awkward landings.

"Well, that was unexpected," I said, meeting his gaze head-on. I wasn't about to let him intimidate me, no matter how intense his stare.

He raised an eyebrow, his eyes narrowing slightly.

"Unexpected? You deliberately jumped, did you not?"

"I did"

I replied, shrugging as if falling into his arms was the most natural thing in the world.

"I needed an exit, and this seemed like the quickest way. I didn't mean to land on you, though."

There was a flicker of something in his eyes, a brief hint of curiosity, but it vanished as quickly as it appeared. He stepped back slightly, releasing me from his hold, though his men still held their swords at the ready.

"You seem awfully calm for someone in such a precarious situation," he said,

"Most would be trembling."

"Most aren't me", I replied.

Giving him a small smile. I could feel the adrenaline still pumping through me, but I wasn't about to let him see that. In my world, jumping from a balcony wasn't normal—but neither was waking up in a strange body in a world where people could use magic. After surviving that, nothing here could really shake me.

He studied me for a long moment, as if trying to figure me out, but his expression remained inscrutable. "Rosie Rossano," he said again, slowly, as if testing the name on his tongue.

"Your family—"

"Neglected me?" I finished for him, crossing my arms.

"Yes, I'm aware. But that's not why I jumped. I simply didn't feel like staying at the ball any longer."

His lip twitched, though whether it was amusement or irritation, I couldn't tell.

"And you chose the most dramatic exit possible?"

I shrugged again. "Why not? It certainly got me out of there."

One of his guards shifted beside him, still eyeing me warily, but the man waved him off, his eyes never leaving mine.

"You're rather bold for a neglected daughter," he commented.

"I'm rather bold for anyone," I shot back, meeting his gaze without flinching.

He didn't respond right away, and the silence between us stretched out. His cold, silver eyes seemed to pierce through me, but I held my ground. I wasn't going to let him rattle me.

"I suppose that's one way to live,"

he finally said, his tone more thoughtful than dismissive. He glanced toward the ballroom, then back at me.

"But boldness isn't always a virtue in the world, Miss Rossano."

"I'll take my chances," I replied, tilting my chin up defiantly.

"I'm not afraid of a little danger."

"Clearly," he said dryly, a faint hint of sarcasm in his voice.

He stepped back, giving me more space, though his gaze never softened.

"Next time, I suggest a less reckless approach to your escape plans."

I rolled my eyes. "Noted."

He nodded once, and then motioned for his guards to sheathe their swords; He said something to his guard, even though I was standing right there I could not hear a word.

"Come," he said, turning toward the shadows.

"I assume you'd rather not return to the ball?"

I hesitated, glancing back toward the light and laughter spilling from the ballroom. The idea of returning to that suffocating crowd made my skin crawl.

"You're right," I said, stepping toward him.

"I'd rather not."

He glanced at me over his shoulder, his expression unreadable once more.

"Then follow me. I have a feeling our paths are about to cross more than you realize."

I raised an eyebrow at that but said nothing as I fell into step behind him.

His presence was overwhelming, like walking in the wake of a storm. But I wasn't intimidated.

As we descended the steps into the garden below, I caught one last glimpse of the glittering ballroom through the windows. Part of me felt a pang of longing

—for the simplicity of my old life, for the certainty of the world I had left behind. But another part of me, the Rosie who had woken up in this strange world, felt a thrill of excitement.

This world was full of danger, yes. But it was also full of possibilities. And I was determined to make my mark on it, one way or another.

As I followed the mysterious man through the dimly lit corridors, I could feel the eyes of his guards on me. They were probably wondering what someone like me, dressed in an extravagant gown yet clearly out of place, was doing here. But I wasn't fazed by their silent scrutiny.

The world I came from had tougher judges

—more ruthless, more cunning

—and power alone had never scared me.

The man in front of me, though, had an undeniable aura of authority. I could sense it in the way his subordinates trailed behind him, ready to act at a moment's notice. He was a man used to control, and the atmosphere around him was cold, precise, and calculated.

Still, I felt at ease, walking just a step behind him, as though this was something as normal as strolling down a street in the middle of town.

"Hey," I casually called him out;

"I've been following you for a while now, but I don't even know your name. It's only polite to introduce yourself, don't you think?"

He slowed his pace, though he didn't turn to face me.

"You talk as if you're used to ordering men around," he said, his with a smooth voice but with a sharp edge.

"Do you always speak this casually with strangers?"

"I'm not one for formalities," I shrugged, catching up to walk beside him now.

"I'm Rosie, by the way. Rosie Rossano. And you are?"

He stopped in his tracks, finally turning his head just slightly to glance down at me.

"You do not know who I am?"

His voice was calm, but there was certain incredulity in it, as if he couldn't believe I hadn't immediately recognized him.

"Nope," I replied without hesitation, leaning forward a bit with a smirk.

"But then again, I just arrived here. So, are you going to tell me, or do I have to guess?"

A flicker of something crossed his face—perhaps amusement? No, it was too fleeting to read—but before he could respond, he gave a subtle signal to one of his men, who slipped away into the shadows. I didn't know what was happening but I could guess he did not believed my words.

He resumed walking, and I kept pace beside him.

"Your recklessness doesn't suit the luxury you're wrapped in," he remarked, eyes forward, dismissive yet focused on our conversation.

"That's because I didn't grow up here," I replied, side-eyeing him,

"Where I come from, hugging someone or giving a peck on the cheek isn't a big deal. People are much more forward, much more... open."

His eyes briefly flickered in my direction.

"Forward, perhaps. But careless."

I laughed lightly.

"Maybe. But I wouldn't call it careless. People have motives, don't they? Even when they don't realize it. My motives aren't any more dangerous than wanting some fresh air and avoiding a boring ballroom."

"And you believe I should trust that?" His voice was cool and measured, but I sensed something deeper

—curiosity, perhaps.

"Trust isn't something you give; it's something you earn," I said, matching his coolness with a shrug.

"But if it helps, I didn't jump down to throw myself into your arms. That was just a lucky break."

"Lucky?" His lips barely moved, but there was something almost cynical in the way he repeated the word.

"Yes, lucky," I replied, my tone slightly more serious now.

"I'm not here to cause trouble, believe it or not."

His gaze returned to the path ahead, his long strides leading us toward a quieter part of the palace.

"People don't approach me without a reason," he said his tone dismissive but layered with meaning.

"You may not have meant to fall into my arms, but that doesn't mean you lack intent."

I didn't argue. Instead, I followed his lead as he ordered another of his guards to stand watch while we walked further into the gardens.

The silence between us grew, but it wasn't uncomfortable for me.

After all, I'd always been able to manage silence—it's in those moments people usually reveal more than they realize.

As we reached a secluded fountain, I finally spoke up again.

"You're right," I said, leaning casually against the stone ledge.

"People always have reasons, even when they're running away."

"And what are you running from?" he asked, his gaze intense now, though his face remained as unreadable as ever.

I smiled, not quite answering his question. "Let's just say I don't belong in ballrooms."

He gave me a measured look.

"Perhaps not," he said quietly.

"But I'll be sure to find out why you truly jumped from that balcony. People rarely act without reason."

He started to walk away, and I felt the breeze shift as he moved, carrying his cool presence with him. There was something about him—something powerful and dangerous.

But still, I wasn't afraid.

"Don't get too comfortable," I called after him.

"I'm not here to cause trouble, but I don't plan on sticking around for long."

He didn't reply, but I could see the faintest twitch of his lips before he turned away completely.

As he continued walking ahead, I stayed behind, lingering by the fountain for a moment. The moonlight gleamed on the water's surface, casting shadows that danced with the soft breeze. I felt a strange sense of calm here, despite the tension in the air that had followed us from the ballroom. But I knew it wouldn't last.

The man—whoever he was—had power, and power meant danger. But even then, something about him intrigued me. He wasn't like the others in this world. He had control, yes, but there was something cold and detached about him. A man like him didn't care about things like love or sentiment —those were trivial, beneath him.

In a way, that made him feel familiar to me. I had seen people like him in my own world—people who believed emotions were a weakness.

Maybe that was why I hadn't backed down.

I straightened up and started following him again. As much as I wanted to bolt from this place, curiosity tugged at me. And if there was one thing I'd learned in my original world, it was that curiosity often led to answers.

He led me deeper into the garden, where the flowers seemed to grow more vibrant, their scents more intoxicating. We came to a stop in front of a marble pavilion, its white columns gleaming in the pale light. The guards hung back now, giving us space, though I could feel their presence.

He turned to face me, his silver eyes reflecting the glow of the night.

"You say you're not here to cause trouble," he said slowly, in his voice as cold as ever.

"Yet you throw yourself into the arms of a stranger and speak as if you have no fear of consequences."

I smirked, meeting his gaze without flinching.

"In my world, consequences are usually more dire. This?"

I gestured around the garden. "This is just luxury wrapped in rules. I've seen real danger."

His brow arched, ever so slightly. "Is that so?"

"Yeah," I replied, my voice was steady.

"But if you're trying to figure me out, don't bother. I'm not here to play by anyone's rules, least of all yours."

He studied me in silence for a long moment, his expression as unreadable as ever.

But something told me he wasn't used to being spoken to like this

—especially not by someone like me.

Still, I had no reason to hold back. In my world, power wasn't always about status or titles; it was about survival.

And I had survived plenty.

Finally, he broke the silence.

"I don't care where you came from, Rosie Rossano. But know this—people in this world have their place. And if you overstep yours, there will be consequences."

I crossed my arms, holding his gaze. "I'll keep that in mind."

For a moment, there was a standoff, neither of us backing down. But then he turned away, his cloak shifting in the wind.

"My men will escort you back to your family," he said, his voice was once again dismissive.

"Consider this conversation over."

I didn't move, watching as he walked away. His guards moved in closer, ready to follow their orders, but I wasn't ready to leave just yet.

"You never did tell me your name," I called him out, my was voice teasing him but with a hint of challenge.

He stopped, pausing for just a second before turning his head slightly.

"You'll learn it when it matters," he replied his voice was low but firm. And with that, he disappeared into the night, his presence leaving a chill in the air.

I watched him go, my mind already racing. Whoever he was, he wasn't someone I could ignore. Not because of his power, but because of the way he carried himself—the way he looked at the world, as though nothing could touch him.

But he was wrong about one thing. I wasn't here to stay in my place. In fact, I wasn't even sure what my place in this world was yet. All I knew was that I wasn't going to sit quietly and let the rules of this world dictate my future.

As the guards led me back toward the ballroom, I couldn't help but smile. This world was different, yes. But it wasn't enough to break me.

And something told me that man, whoever he was, would learn that soon enough.

For now, though, I had other plans. There was still the matter of my escape—both from this ball and from the life I had been thrust into. But as I glanced back one last time at the path he disappeared, I knew this wasn't the last time we'd cross paths.

Not by a long shot.

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End of Chapter 1