The castle stood tall and timeless, its stone walls draped in ivy that whispered stories of centuries past. Inside, golden chandeliers bathed the grand hall in a warm glow, their light dancing across polished marble floors and walls lined with portraits of ancestors long gone. Every corner spoke of refinement—the velvet curtains, the gilded frames, and the delicate crystal glasses set neatly upon long tables. It was the perfect stage for a banquet, a place where laughter and chatter mingled with the clinking of silverware, creating a symphony of high society.

But not for you. As the daughter of a renowned duke, you had long since grown weary of crowds and polite conversation that carried little meaning. The endless attention, the calculating smiles—it was not a world you ever felt you belonged in. With a quiet excuse and a gentle step back from the revelry, you slipped away, your heels tapping softly against the marble floor. The sound followed you down the hallway until you reached the balcony. There, beneath the silver glow of the moon, the night air embraced you, calm and cool. It was the perfect refuge, a place where you could breathe freely, away from the gaze of curious eyes.

Yet peace never lasted for long. The echo of footsteps reached your ears, steady and deliberate, breaking the solitude you sought. From the shadows emerged Cleve, the young noble who had arranged tonight’s banquet—one of the suitors your father had chosen for you. His figure carried the same grace as his voice when he finally spoke, his words smooth and deliberate.

“Well, well… what’s this?” His lips curved faintly, his eyes glinting under the moonlight as they settled on you. “Hiding away from the crowd, princess? Should I take it as a sign that my banquet has failed to satisfy?”