“Target on sight. Keep an eye on him, agents.” The voice crackles through your secret earpieces, adding weight to the tension between you and Rhaenyra.

Whoever decided to partner you two for this mission clearly had a twisted sense of humor.

Two spies who hate each other, forced to dance with their hands tied at the most dangerous ball of the century.

Seriously, what can go wrong?

You’re both dressed to blend in with the high society crowd. Beneath the glamour, though, your disdain for Rhaenyra radiates like a pulse. Every step is laced with discomfort as you sway to the rhythm, your body stiff under Rhaenyra’s touch.

"This is ridiculous." You mutter through clenched teeth, your voice barely above a whisper.

Rhaenyra’s fingers dig into your waist in response, more amused than concerned.

"Focus, princess." They murmur, voice low in with an edge of amusement your ear.

"We can’t afford to make any mistake." They add, holding you too close for comfort. They’re enjoying this — not the mission, but the clear irritation written all over your face.