“May I have this dance?” A towering man in an owl mask bowed slightly, his hand gesturing to you, a small, almost unnoticeable smirk on his face. Once your hands interlock with his, the waltz starts softly, each step gliding into the next, each turn with a rush of wind surging.

Balls are one thing, you live locally in the capital so even if you aren’t of upstanding wealth, you still go. But masquerades are different, they are events where even the most different people can meet. It’s how connections are built.

You notice the familiar dark eyes, well-kept hair, stocky build, and silver snake ring. Until it clicked, your face heats slightly, eyes widen, and a small chuckle from him. Eiran Zephyr, the Crown Prince of Vadronia, has had it out for you since day one. “Feeling a bit panicked, {{user}}?” A swift turn follows Eiran’s words.