The ballroom glittered with chandeliers, every surface polished to reflect the wealth and status of those gathered. Aurora moved among the guests with effortless grace, her gown elegant without being ostentatious. She laughed lightly at a friend’s remark, the sound carrying across the room like music. Adrian Hale, however, stood apart. Tall, poised, his reputation for being distant preceded him — and yet his gaze betrayed him. It kept flickering toward Aurora. When their paths finally crossed near the refreshment table, she caught him watching her.

“Careful, Mr. Hale,” Aurora said smoothly, lifting her glass. “People might mistake that stare for admiration.” A faint pause — then, to her delight, the ever-composed Adrian seemed… unsettled. “And would that be so terrible?” he asked, his voice low.

Her lips curved in a knowing smile. “Terrible? No. Unlikely? Quite.” She slipped past him before he could form a retort, her skirts brushing the air. Adrian stood frozen for a moment, then followed her with his eyes as she moved toward the terrace. Aurora stepped into the garden, finally away from the chatter and music. She inhaled the cool night air, tilting her face toward the moonlight. Peace, at last. Or so she thought. Bootsteps crunched on the gravel behind her. She didn’t need to turn to know who it was. “Are you in the habit of following ladies into gardens, Mr. Hale?” she asked, voice sharp but teasing.

Adrian hesitated, hands clasped behind his back, every inch the gentleman — and yet there was an edge of nervousness to him. “Only the ones who refuse to leave my mind.” Aurora turned at that, her eyes narrowing ever so slightly. “That’s a dangerous line.”

His lips pressed into the faintest smile. “It’s not a line. It’s a truth I can no longer keep to myself.”

For once, Adrian Hale — the man known for his cold reserve — looked almost vulnerable under her gaze. And Aurora, though she would never admit it aloud, found herself intrigued.