The masquerade spun on, a whirl of color and sound that seemed almost dreamlike to Yelena. She stood at the edge of the ballroom, clutching the sides of her borrowed dress, her breath shallow as she tried to make sense of it all.
Andrei's abrupt departure had left her feeling untethered, but the more immediate issue was the curious eyes turning her way. The masked nobles regarded her with a mix of curiosity and disdain, their whispered conversations unmistakably about the strange young woman standing alone near the gilded columns.
She fought the urge to flee.
A waiter passed by, offering her a flute of champagne. She hesitated but took it, the glass cold against her fingertips. She sipped it cautiously, the sharp bubbles surprising her. It was unlike anything she'd ever tasted, and for a brief moment, she felt a pang of longing for a life where such luxuries were commonplace.
A voice interrupted her thoughts.
"You seem lost."
She turned to find a man standing beside her, his face obscured by a silver mask. He was tall and well-dressed, his voice smooth but laced with a faint edge.
"I—" she began, unsure of how to respond.
"Don't worry," he said, smiling faintly. "These events are overwhelming, even for those of us born into them. Allow me to introduce myself—Count Viktor Mirov." He extended a gloved hand, waiting for her to take it.
She hesitated but placed her hand in his. "Yelena," she said softly, offering no title.
He raised a brow, his expression unreadable behind the mask. "A pleasure, Yelena. You're not a typical guest here, are you?"
She stiffened. "What do you mean?"
He chuckled, releasing her hand. "Only that you have the air of someone unused to courtly games. It's... refreshing."
Her gaze darted toward the crowd, searching for Andrei. She didn't trust this man, though she couldn't pinpoint why. "If you'll excuse me, I need to find someone."
Before Viktor could respond, another voice cut through the din.
"There you are."
Yelena turned to see Andrei approaching, his presence commanding despite the mask he wore. His eyes flicked to Viktor, and something unspoken passed between them.
"Count Mirov," Andrei said coolly. "I see you've met my guest."
"Indeed," Viktor replied, his tone light but his eyes sharp. "She's quite charming."
Andrei stepped closer to Yelena, his hand lightly brushing her elbow. "If you'll excuse us, Viktor. I need a word with Miss Yelena."
Viktor inclined his head, though his smile didn't reach his eyes. "Of course. Enjoy the evening."
As Viktor melted back into the crowd, Andrei turned to Yelena, his expression dark. "Are you all right? What did he say to you?"
"Nothing," she said quickly. "He was polite."
Andrei's jaw tightened. "Be careful around him. He's not what he seems."
"Neither are you," she said, her voice steady despite the rapid beat of her heart. "What am I doing here, Andrei? Why did you send for me?"
He exhaled, running a hand through his hair. "I didn't mean for it to happen like this. I thought I'd have more time to explain."
"Explain what?"
Before he could answer, a fanfare echoed through the room, silencing the chatter. All eyes turned toward the grand staircase at the far end of the ballroom.
"The Tsar and Tsarina," someone whispered.
Yelena's breath caught as an older man and woman descended the staircase, their presence commanding and regal. The Tsar's gaze swept over the crowd, sharp and assessing, while the Tsarina's expression was serene but distant.
Andrei straightened, his entire demeanor shifting. He was no longer the conflicted man she had spoken with in the shadows of her alley but the crown prince, every inch the royal heir.
The Tsar spoke, his voice carrying effortlessly over the room. "Tonight, we celebrate not only the season but the unity of our empire. May this evening remind us of the strength of our people and the bonds that hold us together."
The crowd erupted in polite applause, but Yelena felt her stomach churn. She was an outsider here, a single thread out of place in a tapestry of power and privilege.
As the music resumed and the Tsar and Tsarina mingled with the guests, Andrei turned back to her. His voice was low, urgent.
"I can't talk here. Meet me in the garden in ten minutes."
Before she could respond, he slipped away, leaving her standing alone once more.
---
In the Garden
Yelena pulled her shawl tighter around her shoulders as she stepped onto the terrace. The cold air bit at her skin, a sharp contrast to the warmth of the ballroom. Lanterns cast a soft glow over the garden, illuminating the frost-covered hedges and statues.
Andrei was waiting near a stone fountain, his breath visible in the icy air. When he saw her, he moved toward her, his mask now discarded.
"I'm sorry for bringing you here like this," he said, his voice heavy with regret. "I just—I needed to see you again."
"You could have come to the city," she said, her tone clipped. "Instead, you pull me into this—this spectacle. Do you have any idea how out of place I feel?"
"I know," he said softly. "But there's more at stake than you realize."
She crossed her arms, her gaze unyielding. "Then explain it to me."
He hesitated, his eyes searching hers. "My father is forcing me to marry. He's invited every eligible noblewoman in the empire tonight, hoping I'll choose one."
Her breath caught. "And what does that have to do with me?"
"Everything," he said, stepping closer. "I don't want any of them, Yelena. I want you."
The words hung in the air, fragile and dangerous.
She shook her head, her voice trembling. "You don't even know me, Andrei. Not really. And I—"
"You think I care about your past?" he interrupted, his tone fierce. "What matters is who you are now. And I know enough to see that you're brave, strong, and more honest than anyone in that ballroom."
Her defenses wavered, but she forced herself to stay firm. "This can't work. We're from different worlds."
"Then I'll tear down the walls," he said, his voice resolute. "Whatever it takes, I'll make it work."
Before she could respond, a sound from the terrace made them both turn. Standing in the shadows was Viktor, his expression unreadable.
"My, my," Viktor said, stepping into the light. "What an intriguing development."
Yelena felt the air grow colder, the fragile moment between her and Andrei shattered.
"Leave us, Viktor," Andrei said sharply.
But Viktor only smiled. "I think not. This is far too interesting to ignore."
The tension crackled between them, and Yelena realized with a sinking feeling that this was only the beginning.