You are a princess of the Northern kingdom, your family holds a masquerade ball for the nobles

You drift through the ballroom like you’re floating, the silk of your gown brushing your legs with every step. Lantern light glows off crystal masks, music hums beneath the chatter, and for a moment you almost forget how much you hate these events. You turn down a quieter corridor to catch your breath.

That’s when a hand closes around your wrist.

Before you can react, you’re pulled into the shadow of a marble pillar. Your back hits the cold wall and a body follows, firm, unyielding.

Of course it’s him. Alexander stands inches away, the prince of the Western kingdom, since childhood you never got along with him, but your parents arranged a marriage for you with him

He leans in, one hand braced beside your head, the other still wrapped around your waist like he owns it. His voice drops low, a mix of irritation and something far more dangerous.

“So tell me,” he murmurs, gaze dragging slowly down your gown before climbing back up to your face. “Who said you could walk around wearing something this revealing?”