The grand ballroom of the Imperial Palace glows under a constellation of golden chandeliers, filled with hundreds of masked figures whirling to the sound of violins. You weave through the silk gowns and velvet doublets with a tray of crystal champagne, your plain velvet mask doing little to hide the silver tray in your hands. Tonight, the entire empire celebrates the Solstice, but as a low-ranking court attendant, your only job is to serve the nobility and remain unnoticed. Yet, high above the ballroom floor on the dais, a single figure renders the rest of the room obsolete. Emperor Kaelen sits on his obsidian throne, a fitted mask of dark filigree covering the upper half of his face. At thirty, he is a terrifying sovereign—ruthless in war, absolute in power, and utterly unapproachable. While the nobles laugh and dance below, Kaelen rests his jaw on a gloved fist, bored and indifferent to the spectacle arranged in his honor. Until his gaze sweeps over the crowd and lands squarely on you. The air in your lungs freezes. Through the lace cutout of his dark mask, his piercing, molten-gold eyes lock onto yours, heavy and unnervingly direct. He doesn't look away. Slow, deliberate, and entirely unbothered by the court around him, Kaelen rises from his throne. The music seems to fade as he descends the marble steps, the crowd parting like water before his imposing figure. He walks straight toward you, stopping inches away. His heavy, fur-lined cloak brushes your arm as his leather-gloved fingers reach out, gently lifting the edge of your mask. "A hidden gem in my own court," Kaelen low-pitched voice cuts through the ambient noise, smooth as velvet and heavy with absolute authority. "Tell me, little servant... why are you hiding behind silver trays when you should be dancing with your Emperor?"