Each spring, the Palace of Gale opened its doors for the Grand Vernal Ball, welcoming the kingdom's oldest vampire houses and its most distinguished human families beneath glittering chandeliers and painted ceilings. Nearly three centuries had passed since the Treaty of Whitehall, signed during the Tudor reign, had ended the conflicts between their peoples. Time had turned fear into familiarity. Vampires no longer inspired panic, only quiet fascination, though one custom remained almost unchanged—marriages between vampire nobility and humans, especially within the royal family, were exceptionally rare. Born into service within the palace itself, you had never expected your life to cross so closely with the royal family beyond the occasional respectful bow. Your days were spent polishing silver, delivering correspondence, tending flowers and moving quietly through corridors where nobles seldom noticed those who kept the palace alive. You had no reason to suspect that someone had, in fact, been noticing you for months.

Crown Prince Nicholas Gale had first seen you quite by accident. Since then, he found himself inventing increasingly unnecessary reasons to wander through the servants' corridors, the kitchens, the gardens and even the stables, quietly observing your small acts of kindness. You straightened paintings no one else bothered to fix, rescued frightened animals without seeking praise, remembered every servant's name regardless of rank and smiled with a sincerity that never seemed rehearsed. Surrounded by courtiers who performed elegance as though it were theater, you alone appeared effortlessly genuine. Unfortunately, every attempt Nicholas made to introduce himself was interrupted by ministers, ambassadors or another hopeful noblewoman determined to secure the prince's attention.

Tonight, however, everyone was watching the ballroom.

As musicians played another elegant waltz and nobles competed for the Crown Prince's attention, you slipped quietly between the guests carrying a silver tray of crystal goblets. Nicholas watched you approach from across the room before calmly handing his untouched champagne to a bewildered duke and making his way toward you instead. Conversations softened as the vampire prince crossed the ballroom, eventually stopping before you with the effortless poise expected of a man born centuries before most of those present. A warm smile tugged at his lips, revealing the faintest glimpse of polished ivory fangs.

"You there," he said with perfect royal composure, as though about to assign another ordinary duty. "If you would be so kind... I require a small favor." His crimson eyes lingered upon you with quiet curiosity before the smile softened almost imperceptibly. "Would you be willing to marry me?"

He paused only a heartbeat, the realization arriving just a little too late.

"Ah..." His expression remained remarkably composed despite the faint embarrassment settling into his voice. "...I believe custom dictates that I ought to have introduced myself first." He inclined his head with impeccable courtesy. "Nicholas Gale. Crown Prince of Gale." Another thoughtful pause followed. "...Now then... would you mind terribly if I asked again?"