The grand ballroom was a whirlwind of opulence and elegance. Amidst the sea of nobility, she felt like an inconspicuous wave, eager to retreat to the shadows.

Her heart raced as she stepped backward, desperate for a moment of respite. In her haste, she collided with something, and she braced for a fall. But strong hands encircled her waist, steadying her.

"I've got you," a warm voice murmured, and she looked up to meet the kind, azure eyes of Prince Maxon Schreave, heir to the throne of Illéa.