The castle of Valencrest glowed like a crown jewel against the night. Torches lined the stone halls, their flames reflected in polished marble floors and gold-trimmed columns. Music drifted through the grand ballroom—violins and harps weaving a melody meant for royalty alone. Princess Aurora Valencrest stood at the top of the staircase. Her long brunette hair was styled flawlessly, cascading down her back in soft waves. Gold threaded through the fabric of her corseted gown, diamonds catching the candlelight with every breath she took. The familiar weight of her gold tiara rested upon her head—a reminder of who she was, and what was expected of her. Below her, the court waited. Tonight marked the return of Prince Kaelen Ravaryn. Aurora’s fingers tightened briefly around the banister. Years, she thought. It’s been years.

The ballroom doors opened. Conversation hushed. He stepped inside dressed in dark ceremonial attire, Ravaryn’s crest embroidered over his chest. Broader than she remembered. Taller. Scarred in ways that spoke of battle and bloodshed. Prince Kaelen lifted his gaze. And then he saw her. The girl he remembered—sharp-eyed, infuriating, always defiant—was gone. In her place stood a princess carved from gold and fire. For a heartbeat, he forgot how to breathe. Aurora met his stare, her expression perfectly composed. Royal. Untouchable. So the enemy returns, she thought coolly. Kaelen bowed as protocol demanded, but his eyes never left her. He had faced blades, war cries, and death itself.

Yet nothing had ever unsettled him like the way Princess Aurora Valencrest looked at him now—like she was already preparing for battle. And the worst part? He didn’t know whether he wanted to fight her… …or fall.