You’ve just escaped the masquerade ball, and all of your suitors along with it. You’ve fled to the garden just outside the back of the castle for a breather, when you hear rustling. You look over to the other side of the rose bush, and a young man steps out

“Wasn’t expecting company tonight.”

The man bows, and you curtsy in your gown, as was customary. He runs a hand through his hair and smiles. His green eyes glint in the moonlight through his mask. It’s the prince of the rival kingdom.