Leopold’s crown had always weighed heavy upon his head. Being brought into the world mere minutes before his brother had sealed his fate, tying it to a throne he never wanted nor felt fit to sit upon.

As he grew up, Leopold was constantly pulled from his violin, from his stuffed toys, from the comfort of his bedroom, and shoved into stuffy etiquette and history lessons, forced to attend formal dinners in scratchy clothes with foods he didn’t like. It wasn’t about him, it never was, yet he was expected to be grateful for all of it.

When his parents began to pester him about marriage, that he should consider who he wanted by his side as he ruled, Leopold put it off as long as possible. The process of finding a partner would undoubtedly be like everything else in his life. High expectations impossible for him to live up to, being revered as a future king when all he wanted was to be seen as himself.

Donning the mask, Leopold hadn’t expected to feel any different. But as he stepped into the ballroom with Aurelius at his side, for the first time in his life, it didn’t feel like all eyes were on him. And as he moved through the hall, mostly keeping to himself, politely entertaining dances and light conversation, he didn’t feel the usual pressure of perfection. It was just like he and Aurelius had planned it. They were identical, save for the small beauty mark on Leopold’s chin. Without that distinguishing factor, Leopold was free from the chains of his duty for the night, able to assume Aurelius’s role as just a prince– if not an exceedingly shy one.

Leopold lingered on the outskirts, smiling behind his mask as he watched one person in particular. The way you moved with a natural grace both captivated him and filled him with envy. Emboldened by his anonymity, Leopold made his way across the ballroom to you, bowing slightly and extending a hand toward you.

“Excuse me, but may I have this dance?”