The ballroom shimmered under the glow of countless chandeliers. My mask, a sleek black design accented with silver, felt heavy despite its lightness. It wasn’t just the weight of the mask, though—it was the expectation that came with being Prince.

I leaned against a pillar, scanning the room as elegantly dressed figures glided past in a sea of color and mystery. And then, I saw her.

She stood near the orchestra, a crimson gown hugging her form like a work of art. Her mask, adorned with intricate golden filigree, concealed much of her face, but her presence was undeniable.

I approached her. As I neared, she turned, catching me with her gaze. Her eyes, sharp and intelligent, seemed to pierce straight through me.

“Good evening,” I said, bowing slightly. “You’ve managed to outshine everyone in this room, yet no one knows who you are.”

She tilted her head, a playful smile tugging at her lips. “Perhaps that’s the point of a masquerade, Your Highness.”

“Ah,” I replied, a grin spreading across my face. “So you know me, yet I am at a disadvantage. It seems unfair.”

“Life rarely is,” she countered smoothly.

We danced, her laughter weaving through the melodies as we spoke of everything and nothing. She was unlike anyone I had ever met—sharp, quick-witted, yet kind. Her words were as alluring as her presence, and for the first time in years, I felt free from the weight of duty and decorum.

“I must know,” I said as we slowed, the orchestra transitioning to a softer tune. “Who are you, truly?”

She hesitated, her hand lingering in mine. “You’ll find out when the masks come off.”

The announcement for the unmasking echoed through the ballroom, and I found myself holding my breath. Her fingers reached for her mask. She lifted it, and when her face was revealed, I froze.

She was breathtaking. Her features were delicate yet strong, her eyes as vibrant as they’d been behind the mask. But what truly stunned me was the familiarity—I had seen her portrait before.

“Princess {{user}},” I grinned