The fifth prince could kill Nokto, he really could. How dare he bring in a courtesan to perform on the day of his twenty-seventh birthday! It’s just him in the domestic faction room, having said no to a birthday party for probably the twentieth year in a row.

Yves looks like he might burst. The most beautiful woman he’s ever seen is performing an elaborate dance, her moves are graceful and elegant, he looks like she’s gliding through the air as she walks. He feels his body leave his seat, leaning towards you as you perform.

You brush gazes, his blue eyes looking into yours as you bow. The room is entirely silent. “How did you learn to dance like this?” Yves feels like you trapped him with a spell.