Nobles and royalty flocked through the grand doors of the Hawthorne household. The guards at the entrance kept announcing names as people entered with their respective partners. Most of them had come there to socialize with the wealthy family, while some were there to truly see if their daughter, who had just come of age, was fit to be a bride. The prince and Alistair, however, were there for a different purpose.
"I think we should part ways at this point,"
"But Prince Alvah," Alistair started, "what if something happens to you?"
"I'll be okay. I know how to keep it in check. Just carry on. Have some fun and stop being a bore."
"But—"
"I surely won't find who we're looking for if we are huddled together, not so? Go on!" the prince replied, tapping his back.
After finding reason with the prince's words, Alistair walked away, disappearing into the crowd of masked people.
The prince looked around, his black eyes searing into the guests at the party. The waltz started, and everyone began to move slowly to the music. He spotted the girl in whose honor the ball was being thrown. She was beautiful, but she looked so young, which was exactly how he had identified her.
Still, he approached her, hoping she wasn't the one he needed.
"My lady,"
She turned, her smile widening upon seeing who had approached her. Even with the mask on his face, everyone knew only the prince had such deep black eyes that seemed to pierce through everyone.
"Your Highness," she said, curtsying elegantly before him. Everyone's eyes were on them even as they danced.
He glanced at the dance floor before looking at her.
"May I have this dance, my lady?"
"Yes, Your Highness," she replied, taking him by surprise. It seemed the rumors had not reached her yet. He could feel it—even though everyone looked at him with admiration, they feared him.
She placed her hand on his elbow, allowing him to lead her to the dance floor.
'Oh, he looks even more handsome up close,'
"Uhn?" the prince muttered, frowning without breaking the dance.
"Is something wrong, Your Highness?"
"No, I just thought I heard something,"
"Oh,"
'If only he could just lift me in his arms and we—'
The prince pursed his lips before deciding to shut off his mind. His ability to read minds had become more of a bother than an advantage. At first, he had found it exciting, but being able to know what everyone was thinking about you wasn't so interesting after all, and some of the thoughts he had heard were quite bizarre, even for an open-minded person like him.
Thankfully, the dance ended soon, and he sketched a bow before leaving her to find another partner in hopes that it would be who he was looking for this time.
---
"Leilani, you know I didn't want to come here."
"Don't you dare complain. You should have more fun before you get married. Besides, we are only here so you can meet the prince yourself before the wedding."
"But you know it's not right. We should not meet before the betrothal ceremony."
"That rule should only apply to couples who had time to court. You didn't even have that. So here I am, offering you what you can get."
Althea harrumphed, stepping out of the carriage with her friend in the glamorous dress she had brought sneakily for her. When they arrived at the entrance, the guard asked what to announce, and Leilani introduced herself while saying Althea was her partner.
The guard nodded. "Lady Leilani Bradbury and her companion!"
Leilani entered, holding Althea on her arm. Althea plastered her fake socializing smile on her face as they made their way into the hall. With a sly smile, Leilani disconnected her arm from Althea's, and before she could even speak again, Leilani was gone.
Althea shrugged, feeling annoyed. She had barely taken two steps when someone approached her for a dance. And several more suitors came after that. It was quite expected since they didn't know who she was nor that she was wedding the prince soon. Exhausted, she strolled towards the garden outside.
After wandering about and spotting couples sneaking off for rendezvous, Althea found herself in a secluded part of the garden. She spotted a bench in a corner, partially hidden by the surrounding trees. She was about to sit when she noticed someone already there.
The moonlight illuminated part of the person's figure, and she could see that it was a man. His face was in a grimace, and he seemed to have trouble keeping it together. He held his head in his hands, his shoulders tense from the way he sat. His trembling hands gripped his hair tightly, so much so that his knuckles were white, and he seemed to be murmuring incoherent words to himself.
Although Althea knew that she shouldn't be speaking to other men alone, especially when she was getting married soon, she couldn't help but move closer to him. She was confused as to whether it was her curiosity or the strange pull she felt towards him that made her stand there instead of walking away. His actions should have scared her, but yet she wanted to know who he was.
"Excuse me?" she asked softly, trying not to startle him.
But she got no response. Her eyebrows drew into a frown, but she decided to sit down and move closer.
Once again, she called out, "Are you okay?"
Her question went unanswered.
'It is probably better if I leave,' she thought to herself. But then, she heard a gasp and labored breathing.
Unable to help herself, she laid a hand on the man's shoulder, and to her utter surprise, his head shot up. He glared at her, fury evident in his face. His eyes looked fiery and wild, and she unconsciously moved backward.
But then, they softened. It seemed like time had stopped. Her heart skipped a beat. He was beautiful. She knew she should look away, stand up and leave, or run, but she couldn't bring herself to. Whether it was his captivating eyes or his face that looked perfectly sculpted that kept her staring, she didn't know.
"Are you okay?" she asked when she finally snapped out of the trance.
"You—"
"Do you want to say something?" she asked, concern apparent on her face.
"You are her."
"Her?"
Before he could reply, she realized her mask had slipped off and half of her face was exposed. Her fear became more prominent when she heard the sound of footsteps faintly in the distance. Althea stiffened, the reality of the situation crashing down on her. She didn't even know this man, and yet she had been sitting so close, touching him, staring into his eyes as if...
She quickly stood up. "I should go," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
"No, wait!" He reached for her hand, but she pulled away, her heart racing.
"I can't be seen here like this," she said hastily, glancing toward the source of the noise. Recognizing her friend's voice among the approaching footsteps, she turned back to him, her green eyes wide with urgency.
For a moment, he looked torn, desperate to stop her but unsure how.
"Who are you?" he asked finally, his voice low and urgent.
Althea hesitated. Her lips parted, but no words came. She couldn't tell him—not here, not now. Without another word, she turned, disappearing into the night.
He sat there, staring after her, his chest heaving as he processed what had just happened. For the first time in months, the storm in his mind had calmed. She was the one he'd been searching for—he was certain of it. Or was he?
But none of that truly mattered, because she was gone.