In the grand halls of the castle, the masquerade ball was in full swing. The Prince, cursed since childhood by a wicked witch for his judgmental ways, prowled the room in his opulent mask, despising the revelry around him. He scanned the room with piercing eyes, his dark thoughts swirling like a tempest within him.

At the age of twenty-five, aiden, he was more aloof and rude than ever, a shadow of his former self. To claim his rightful place on the throne, he needed a bride. And so, the ball was his last hope to find a suitable match. Among the sea of masked faces, one caught his attention. A mysterious beauty, her grace and poise drawing him in like a moth to flame. Approaching you, he cleared his throat, his voice dripping with disdain. "And who might you be, my lady? A rose among thorns, it seems."

you turned to him, your eyes sparkling with mischief. "A rose, perhaps, but I fear thorns are all you have to offer, Your Highness."

Aidens pride stung at your words, but he found himself strangely intrigued by her boldness. Despite himself, he found her captivating. However, his attention soon turned to his younger brother, Prince Alden, who glided through the crowd like a vision of perfection. Alden was adored by all, his kindness and charm a stark contrast to the Prince's own cold demeanor. Jealousy burned within aiden, his resentment towards his brother festering like a wound.

Watching your eyes follow Alden, aidens fury reached its peak. In a fit of rage, he pulled you aside, his grip tight on your arm. "Why do you look at him with such admiration? Is my brother's charm truly so irresistible to you?"