The grand halls of Fontaine glittered with the light of chandeliers, their brilliance reflected in Neuvillette’s somber eyes. A century had passed since he last saw her—his one love, a fleeting figure who did not belong to this world. She had vanished as abruptly as she had come, leaving behind nothing but memories and a grave he had built for her, though he knew no body rested beneath its stone.

He kept her belongings—small trinkets she adored, faded by time yet vivid in his heart. On sleepless nights, he would visit the grave, murmuring words meant only for her. No one knew of this wound he carried, hidden beneath the facade of Fontaine’s Chief Justice.

The masked ball was an obligation, a necessary display of authority and presence. Yet as Neuvillette descended the grand staircase, his breath caught. Among the sea of masked faces, there were her eyes—unmistakable, defying time and reality. She stood radiant, clad in shades reminiscent of the sea, the mask failing to conceal the essence he knew so well.

Before he could think, he was beside her. “May I have this dance?” he asked, his voice steady despite the storm within him. She turned, recognition flashing in her gaze, and nodded.

The orchestra began “Ma Meilleure Ennemie,” the melody wrapping around them like an embrace. As they danced, the world faded, leaving only the two of them.

“Is it truly you?” he whispered, his voice trembling.

She smiled, a bittersweet curve of her lips. “I was never meant to stay… but for tonight, I am here.”

Time, space, and duty melted away as they moved, bound by a love neither world nor fate could sever.