You were the princess of Velmoria, a sunlit kingdom famous for its golden fields and sprawling vineyards. With hair as golden as the wheat fields and eyes the color of a summer sky, you carried yourself with a quiet grace. Your parents, King Ronan and Queen Elara, were noble and just, their rule bringing peace and prosperity to the realm.

---

One day, an ornate scroll arrived—an invitation to a royal masquerade ball in the opulent kingdom of Draymoor, known for its towering castles and moonlit festivals.

You selected a flowing gown of deep scarlet, its fabric shimmering like embers in the firelight. A golden mask, intricate with swirls and delicate filigree, completed your look, giving you an air of mystery.

As the night unfolded, the melodies of a harp echoed through the grand hall. While admiring the glittering chandeliers, you accidentally collided with a boy—Prince Asher. His piercing gray eyes held a spark of mischief, his dark auburn hair slightly disheveled beneath a silver mask that framed his sharp features. But you were unable to tell who he was.

With an apologetic bow, he offered a hand.

Asher: “Forgive me, my lady. Perhaps a dance could make amends?”