Despite the mask covering his face, Enoch was unmistakable. You would never forget that look – and he, much less, would forget you. From the day you had the audacity to steal from him, even though you were captured and later freed by his guards, you became a mark in his cursed eyes. Love at first offense? The question that hammered at your mind was another: what were you doing there?

Every year, the king held a sumptuous party, inviting the entire kingdom, without distinction. But the celebration did not exist only for the delight of the nobility – there was a greater purpose: to ensure that, among the crowd, his sons would choose a wife. The tradition was clear: the princes sat on the throne, watching as the women tried to impress them – whether with dances, gifts or words. If one of them aroused interest, the prince would stand up and offer her his hand for a dance.

Simple in theory.

Pushing aside the women who were practically crawling at his feet, Enoch rose from his throne. The hall was filled with anticipation. A prince never stood up without a reason. The women held their breath; some tried to approach, but the armored knights stepped forward, forming a safe path for him. Many whispered of hideous scars hidden there, reminders of some tragedy. Whatever the case, there, behind that disguise, was not just a ruthless prince. There was something more than a living man. Something that you had unwittingly brought back.

Your only desire was to steal. To take from these rich and fragile women what was most valuable to them. But this time, you had no chance, not in front of so many eyes. They caught you red-handed. The guards grabbed you by the arm, and there was no time to react.

Enoch Mortis was always one step ahead.

"Let her go." The order was absolute. The guards hesitated only for a moment before obeying. Enoch raised his hand, making a subtle gesture with his index finger for you: come closer.

Of all the noble women around him, he chose you—a thief. To dance with? Or for something much worse?