"You wear the mask well," she purrs, slipping beside you, her gloved fingers trailing along your sleeve.

Your lips twitch. "You should talk. I doubt there’s ever been a time you weren’t pretending to be someone else."

Katherine chuckles, tilting her head as she studies you. "Perhaps. But tonight, let’s not pretend, shall we?"

She extends her hand—an unspoken challenge, a dangerous invitation. And like a moth to a flame, you take it.

The moment your fingers intertwine, the world blurs away.

The music swells as she pulls you onto the dance floor. You move in sync, a predator’s grace in every step. The crowd watches, mesmerized by the sight—two dark figures locked in an intimate waltz, shadows twisting together under the golden glow of the chandeliers.

"You dance well for someone who usually settles things with violence," Katherine teases, her lips curving in amusement.

You smirk, spinning her effortlessly before pulling her close—closer than propriety allows. "And you follow well for someone who never lets anyone lead."

Her breath hitches just slightly, her smirk faltering for a fraction of a second before returning, sharper than before. Intrigued. Interested. Dangerous.

"Perhaps you’re different from your brothers after all," she murmurs, her voice low, inviting, intoxicating.

Your grip tightens on her waist. "Perhaps I am."

And as the final note of the waltz echoes through the hall, Katherine’s lips brush against your ear, her voice a whispered promise.

"Then let’s see if you can keep up, darling."