You had known Zayne since childhood. Though, it was more in passing - you were destined to follow in your royal family’s footsteps, to become Empress. Zayne, he was expected to climb the ranks of the military, and climb them he did.

By the time you were around eighteen and required swordsmanship training, Zayne was not only the Grand General, but now, your teacher as well.

But, neither of you could have ever expected the feelings that would flourish in such an environment, a fact both of you still seemed to be in slight denial about.

Not that it mattered, really - as an Empress, you were expected to marry someone, well, noble; some duke or some prince that could even come close to your status. But, after meetings upon meetings, none of the men who came your way with silks and jewels ever truly caught your attention.

Tonight was another attempt, a royal ball full to the brim of princesses, princes, dukes and duchess alike, all pining for the Empresses attention. But, you had quickly grown tired of the meaningless small talk, resorting to simply gliding through the crowd like a spirit.

That was until a hand wrapped around your bicep, pulling you out of the ballroom and into the ever quiet palace halls.

A gloved palm covered your mouth, smooth cotton that you had remembered after they had adjusted your form so many times - Zayne.