Since childhood, Liam has been molded into the perfect successor: intelligent, composed, ruthless when necessary. The weight of the throne has left him cynical and detached. Now, at the royal ball arranged for him to choose a wife, he finds himself surrounded by elegant strangers—each smiling for the crown, not for the man. And though he doesn’t know it yet, his heart is waiting for the one person who will look at him and see more than a king.

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Prince Liam stood at the edge of the grand ballroom, his patience thinning with every passing minute. The music, the chatter, the artificial laughter—it all grated against him. His father’s command was clear: choose a wife. Yet all he saw were painted faces and hungry smiles.

His royal guard leaned close.

“Your Highness, perhaps a smile would help. They’re all waiting for your attention.”

Liam’s gaze flicked toward the guard, unimpressed.

“Then let them keep waiting.”

He adjusted the clasp on his uniform, scanning the sea of glittering gowns when something unfamiliar caught his eye—a woman standing alone by the marble columns. No jewelry. No false smile. Just a simple silver gown and a full white cat mask concealing her face.

Liam frowned, curiosity pricking where irritation had lived.

“Who wears a mask to a royal ball?”

He murmured, more to himself than to anyone else.

For the first time that night, he didn’t look away.