The palace loomed as vast and imposing as its reputation, with walls stretching high into the night sky, coated in a faint ash-gray that lent an air of mystery.
By the time Aurora arrived, hours had passed, and night had fully settled. She hadn't even said goodbye to Emma, knowing her friend would have tried to convince her to stay.
At the grand entrance, four guards stood watch, meticulously checking each guest's invitation. Anyone unable to produce theirs was promptly turned away.
"I swear I had it just a moment ago," an older woman fretted, lines of worry deepening on her face. Beside her, a young woman—likely her daughter—stood frozen with dismay.
"If you don't have your invitation, I'm afraid you cannot enter," one guard said firmly.
"His Majesty demands everything proceed without disruption."
"Mother, where did you put it? Oh, this is a disaster," the daughter nearly sobbed.
"Please, move aside and let others through!" shouted guests behind them, impatiently shoving the pair off to the side.
Finally, it was Aurora's turn.
The guard's gaze slid from her face down to her full curves, his eyes lingering with a brazen appraisal.
"Can't you help them? They don't look like trouble," Aurora murmured, a slight smile playing on her lips.
"A spy wouldn't tell you they're one, would they?" he retorted, his voice rough.
"No need to be so harsh. They spent time and money just to get here," she replied, meeting his gaze boldly.
"You really don't know how to mind your business, do you?" he shot back.
Aurora only smiled. She welcomed the challenge—after all, tonight was set to be a night of drama. By the end of the ball, the king himself would lie dead.
Fortunately, the ball was a masquerade, and every guest wore a mask. Aurora's was a deep red, covering most of her face except her lips. She smirked as she looked at the guard.
"Aren't you a little too rude for a mere guard?"
The mother and daughter looked at her in awe, as if she were their savior. The guard's eyes narrowed in irritation. "Why don't you leave quietly, or things won't be pretty for you."
"You know what's not pretty?" Aurora shot back, unfazed. "Your face—and your manners."
She noticed more guards converging at the entrance, likely alerted by the commotion. She'd intended to draw some attention, but seeing the mother and daughter's anxious faces reminded her why.
They had likely spent days dreaming of this night, saved up for gowns and carriage fare, only to be denied over something as small as a lost invitation.
Her "interference" may have looked like troublemaking, but she'd already seen this same guard take a bribe from another guest who'd misplaced their invitation. This mother and daughter simply hadn't been able to do the same.
"Is there a problem here?" a man's voice interrupted. He was tall, distinguished, and noticeably without a mask. Aurora's heart skipped—she recognized him!
The strange man from the day before at the brother. What was he doing here? His outfit suggested he wasn't just another villager, and his eyes flickered with brief recognition when he saw her, though he quickly masked it.
"Your Highness," the guard said, bowing deeply. Your Highness? It suddenly made sense how he'd been able to pay her so easily, with gold to spare. Aurora quickly composed herself and gestured toward the guard.
"This man refuses to let these women inside simply because they lost their invitation," she said coolly, "and yet I saw him let others in after they slipped him a few coins."
The guard's eyes widened at being caught, but she pressed on. "I tried to point out how much they'd sacrificed to be here, and he threatened to use force on me." Her gaze flicked to the other guards standing by, watching silently.
The prince's expression hardened as he looked at the guard. "Is that right, Benedict?"The man clicked his tongue in distaste as he glared at the guard, who immediately bowed in terror.
"Please forgive me, Your Highness!"
"Tell me why I should, Benedict," the prince replied coldly. "How many times have I let you off before? Enough. Take him away." At his command, two nearby guards stepped forward, seizing the servant and leading him out.
Aurora allowed herself a small, satisfied smile. While she'd stirred up this scene mostly for the mother and daughter, she couldn't help feeling relieved.
Her own invitation card had gone missing during the carriage ride, likely pickpocketed—just as theirs must have been. Perhaps she wasn't the only one with an agenda at the palace tonight.
"You may enter the palace," the prince said, gesturing to the two women. The mother bowed deeply to Aurora. "Thank you, milady. We're so grateful."
Aurora inclined her head, watching as they entered. She then followed the prince down a dim corridor leading toward the ballroom.
"Were you shocked?" he asked, his voice carrying a faintly amused edge.
He recognized her, of course. His eyes were deep crimson unlike how brown they looked the other day, how did he do that? She thought to herself. "Not entirely," she replied, not glancing his way.
They reached the wide entrance to the grand hall, and as they crossed through, the crowd's attention shifted to her.Her dress was crafted from luxurious black silk, shimmering faintly with every movement. Its bodice is tightly fitted, accentuating her waist and adorned with intricate gold embroidery that winds like vines up toward the neckline.
The neckline itself plunges daringly low, edged with delicate Venetian lace that barely conceals, teasing with a glimpse of skin.
The sleeves are sheer, ending just below the elbow with tiny pearl buttons that catch the light. The skirt flows in luxurious layers of black silk, pooling elegantly at the floor. Yet, from mid-thigh down, a daring slit parts the fabric, revealing a scandalous glimpse of her thigh with every step.
The slit is lined with tiny gold embroidery that draws the eye, accentuating the bold reveal in a way both provocative and refined, a hint of forbidden allure woven into every fold.
"Oh my goodness, look at what she's wearing!" a woman whispered in shock, her tone dripping with disapproval.
"Why is Prince Kayden with her?"
"Is she someone of high status?" another murmured.
"She might as well just undress entirely," scoffed another, none of them bothering to lower their voices.
Aurora ignored the whispers, but a familiar scent suddenly surrounded her—*the King!* Her eyes widened in recognition, and she quickly turned to Prince Kayden, his name now clear to her.
"I need to excuse myself to the powder room, Prince Kayden," she said smoothly. "Don't wait up." Not waiting for a response, she slipped away down a quiet corridor, her movements catching the attention of both men and women, who eyed her with a mixture of envy and admiration.
She reached beneath her skirt to her garter and drew out her weapon, her pulse quickening as she sensed the King's presence approaching.
She heard a faint rustle behind her. Spinning swiftly, she pressed her blade against the neck of a masked stranger, her eyes cold and alert.
I hope you enjoyed this chapter!