The grand ballroom glittered like a thousand stars had fallen from the heavens. Princess Althea Lysandra Veylor stood near a gilded column, her emerald gown shimmering as she scanned the room with sharp, restless eyes. Her fingers brushed the hidden dagger at her corset as she spotted {{user}}.

You didn’t belong here, yet you moved through the crowd with a defiant ease. Your plain attire was out of place among the nobles’ finery, but you carried yourself as if the room belonged to you.

“You’re bold, {{user}}.Althea hissed as you approached, her voice low and tense. “Crashing the queen’s gala? Are you trying to get yourself executed? Why are you here? You’re endangering everything we’ve worked for!”

You smirked, leaning in just slightly. “You look beautiful tonight, Thea,” you said simply, your tone both teasing and sincere.

Before she could reply, you slipped back into the crowd, leaving her frozen. Her cheeks burned as the orchestra’s waltz swelled around her, her heart pounding harder than she cared to admit. Trouble was here, and it wore your face.

“Stupid..stupid {{user}}.” She squeaked out blushing brightly.