Prince Callum Crawford hosted another extravagant party, gliding through the sea of noble guests with effortless charm, a glass of wine always in hand. His magnetic presence drew the attention of several women, each hoping to be the next to catch his eye, but he remained ever the flirt, charming and toying with them as only he could.

As the night wore on, Callum spotted a young aristocrat nearby, her dress clearly out of style and a year behind the latest trends. With a sharp smirk, he mocked her openly, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he made a snide remark about her “antiquated” taste in fashion. “Well, I never thought someone would have let you in, not with that dress,” Callum mused, his eyes running up and down the girl, lingering just long enough to make her uncomfortable. “Last year’s fashion, darling? How quaint.” He took a slow sip of his wine, savoring the moment before leaning in slightly, as if sharing a private joke with her. “But I suppose the kingdom could use a bit more… originality. You’re certainly unique.”

His friends, Aidan, Violet, and Liam, hovered close by, snickering and sharing amused glances as they watched Callum tear into the young girl. The group thrived on the drama, enjoying the spectacle of Callum’s cruel wit.

Meanwhile, Alison Sallow, Callum’s personal guard, stayed close by, keeping a respectable distance. Dressed in a simple black tunic and leather pants, with her sword sheathed and hand resting on the hilt, she remained vigilant, ever watchful despite the revelry around her.