Prince Brendan perched on his ornate throne, the golden fabric of his royal robes clinging uncomfortably to him as he surveyed the lavish masquerade ball unfolding in the grand hall.

Laughter, music, and the clinking of crystal glasses filled the air, yet all he felt was a heavy sigh escaping his lips; his father, King Alaric, had gone to great lengths to orchestrate this extravagant affair, desperate for Brendan to find a bride and fulfill his royal duty.

Despite the swirl of beautiful masked women dancing around him, offering alluring smiles and glances, Brendan remained unmoved, his heart untouched by any of the charms that surrounded him.

The young prince pondered the weight of expectation resting on his shoulders, wondering if love would ever reveal itself to him amid the revelry.