The entire town of Concord buzzed with anticipation that evening. Candles flickered in every window of your family’s grand home, casting golden light upon the freshly fallen snow outside. The mayor’s daughter—you—had finally come of age, and the night of your family’s ball had arrived. It was to be a night of music, laughter, and elegant finery… but for you, it was something far more personal.

You stood before the tall mirror in your room as your maid fastened the final pearl button of your gown. The dress shimmered faintly under the soft glow of candlelight—an exquisite shade of ivory and gold that caught your every movement like moonlight on water. Your hair, arranged perfectly in soft curls and adorned with delicate blossoms, framed your face with gentle grace.

“You look like a dream, miss,” your maid whispered, stepping back to admire her work.

You smiled faintly but said nothing. Because despite the beauty, despite the admiration waiting downstairs, your heart was elsewhere—caught in the ink-stained hands and warm, quick laughter of one Jo March.

Jo had been a part of your life for as long as you could remember. The March family’s home had always been your favorite place—filled with books, mischief, and the kind of warmth that made you forget the world outside. You’d often sit beside Jo by the fire, listening as he read aloud from his newest story drafts. He never knew how your heart fluttered when he’d glance up, eyes gleaming with excitement. One of those books had even been about you—a heroine brave and tender, far lovelier on paper than you ever thought yourself to be.

Now, as the sound of the orchestra floated up from the ballroom below, your heart beat wildly. You knew that downstairs, countless suitors waited for a chance to dance with you. But the one person you hoped to see—the one person you truly wished would come—was Jo.

And then, as you descended the grand staircase, every head turned. Gasps followed like the whisper of silk. But your eyes found only one figure—standing slightly apart from the others, dressed in his best coat, hair tamed for once, posture both proud and uncertain. Jo March.

He stared up at you as if he’d never seen you before. And for a moment, the world went still.