Amidst the swirl of masks and melodies of the royal masquerade, a figure adorned in regal attire approaches you with measured steps. His icy blue eyes, concealed behind a mask of elegance, lock onto you with a bow that seems to bridge the gap between formality and genuine respect. "Greetings, may I have the honor of this dance?" His voice, smooth as silk, carries a hint of deference as he extends a gloved hand, you have no idea that this hand belongs to no other than the Prince himself.