The palace was bustling with activity. Noble guests from all corners of Nyvarion had arrived for the annual masquerade ball, hosted by the royal family in honor of the royal couple—who had first met at this very ball many years ago.
Eleanora stood on her balcony, gazing down at the busy courtyard below. Servants welcomed guests and carried their luggage to assigned rooms.
"When do you think they'll arrive?" asked Daisy, sprawled comfortably on Eleanora's bed. She always claimed it was because Eleanora had the grandest room in the palace. But Eleanora—and the rest of their siblings—knew better. Daisy spent so much time there simply because she knew it drove her dear older sister mad.
Eleanora had long since stopped protesting. Experience had taught her that resistance only made things worse. And although she would never admit it, there were moments when she didn't mind her little sister's annoying presence. Like now—she was anxious.
Today, her engagement was to be officially announced.
The thought alone made her want to hide. She usually enjoyed balls, but she knew this one would be far from her favorite. She could still see his slimy smile when her parents first introduced him. Back then, she had even thought he was handsome. That was before, a month later, her parents told her she was to marry him.
"Elie," Daisy's voice cut through her thoughts, now more impatient than before. Eleanora blinked, realizing she'd been clutching the balcony railing tightly.
"Sorry—what did you say?" she asked, turning toward Daisy, who was now sitting upright.
"When do you think they'll arrive?" Daisy repeated.
"Um… who?"
Daisy rolled her eyes. "Who do you think? I wouldn't be asking about your future husband. I mean Edric, Meave, little Caelum, and Liora with Alaric and tiny Vaspera. They are coming, right? Surely Mother and Father would've told us otherwise."
Eleanora nodded. "Of course. If they weren't coming, we'd know."
"So, when do you think they'll get here?" Daisy asked again, growing more impatient.
"They already have," Eleanora said casually.
"WHAT?" Daisy leapt from the bed. "And you're telling me this now?"
She glared at her sister for a moment before excitement got the better of her. "Hurry! Maybe we'll catch them before the ball starts!" She grabbed Eleanora's hand and pulled her toward the hallway.
They had almost reached the marble staircase when they were stopped by Head Maid Hedda—a woman all the Blackwhite siblings had feared as children. And even now, she commanded great respect.
"Your Highness," she said, addressing Eleanora with a bow, "you should be in your room. The attendants will arrive shortly to begin your preparations for tonight."
Eleanora frowned. "So soon? The ball doesn't start for another five hours."
"Exactly, Your Highness," Hedda replied firmly. "We are following direct orders from Her Majesty the Queen. You are tonight's main attraction. Everyone will want to speak with you, see you. Therefore, you must look your absolute best. So, if I may, please return to your chambers."
Then she turned to Daisy. "And you—your parents wish to see you. Urgently," she added, noticing Daisy had no intention of moving.
With a sour look, Daisy finally headed in the opposite direction.
"Your Highness," Hedda said again, gesturing toward Eleanora's door.
Left with no choice, Eleanora sighed and stepped back inside.
After an exhausting five hours, Eleanora stood in her emerald ball gown before the grand double palace doors. They were two and a half meters tall, made of polished dark wood and adorned with ornaments that resembled flowers. As a child, Eleanora had always loved examining those flowers—each one different, yet all equally beautiful.
She usually had plenty of time to do so, as she was typically the first one from her family to arrive. Punctuality was something their lineage lacked. And once again, she was prepared to wait. She was already looking around for a bench when she heard voices. She turned toward the sound, and a smile instantly appeared on her face. Her family was walking toward her in all their splendor. Daisy was the first to notice her and clearly picked up her pace—although she didn't dare run in heels. The two sisters embraced warmly.
"Elie, you look absolutely stunning!" Daisy squealed with delight. "That color really brings out your eyes."
"Thank you, but you look breathtaking yourself." And Eleanora truly meant it. Daisy wore a light pink gown that hugged her figure perfectly. Her matching mask still allowed her honey-colored eyes to shine through, and her blonde hair was styled in such a way that the top half formed a delicate crown while the rest cascaded down in waves. She looked like a true princess.
By then, the rest of the family had joined them. Eleanora greeted her parents first, according to tradition.
"How do you like the dress, dear?" her mother asked. "I picked it out myself."
That much had been obvious to Eleanora.
"It's beautiful, Mother. You did a wonderful job," she said sincerely. She truly loved the dress—it brought out her green eyes and complemented her brown hair, which was pinned up in a bun to show off her bare back. Eleanora had long known that she and her mother shared a similar taste in fashion—one of the few things they had in common.
"You did a marvelous job, my dear," the king agreed and kissed his wife on the cheek.
At that moment, Eleanora turned to greet her older siblings. Edric hugged her gently, mindful not to ruin her dress.
"I missed you, Elo. Have you grown taller? What do you think, Alaric?"
He turned to his twin, who also hugged Eleanora.
"Hmmm, could be."
Eleanor just frowned at them. It was like a ritual at this point. Every time they commented her hight like they were some old grandmas.
"Oh, leave her alone, you two," scolded Liora, Alaric's wife. "Hi, how are you holding up?" she whispered as they hugged.
"I've been better," Eleanora replied, silently grateful for Liora's concern.
Finally, she greeted Meave, who also told her she looked stunning. Both couples wore coordinated outfits and matching masks—Edric and Meave in light blue, honoring their newborn son, Caelum, while Alaric and Liora wore white masks in honor of their daughter, Vasper. Both children were still too young to attend such an event.
Suddenly, trumpets sounded behind the doors.
"That's our cue," their father declared, and they all moved toward the massive doors.
As the doors opened, the entire hall fell silent except for the herald's voice:
"King Waldemar and Queen Nathalie of House Bleckwhit. This ball is held in their honor, as it was at such an event thirty years ago that they first met."
Applause thundered as the royal couple entered and walked toward their elevated throne. The announcer continued:
"It is with great pleasure that I present the beloved twins and their wives—Prince Edric with Princess Meave, and Prince Alaric with Princess Liora."
Another wave of applause echoed through the marble hall as the four stepped forward. It was tradition for the twins to walk together—they were inseparable. That's why it surprised everyone when they each moved to opposite ends of Nyvarion.
Next usually came Daisy as the youngest, and then—always saved for last—came Eleanora, as her governess liked to say: "The best for last."
"Princess Daisy, the little jewel of the nation."
Daisy entered to even stronger applause than before. Eleanora waited for her own announcement—but it never came.
Instead, the herald concluded: "We wish you all a lovely evening and an enjoyable celebration."
Guests resumed their conversations, and the music picked up again. The Crown Princess remained stunned. This had never happened before. Her parents had told her she would be the star of the evening—yet her name wasn't even mentioned. Still, she chose to enter the ballroom. Perhaps she could find her parents and ask them directly.
Inside, the marble floor glistened beneath dancing guests. Golden chandeliers lit the entire room. Refreshments were set along the walls, and a live orchestra played from the balcony. Strangely, no one seemed to notice her—a stark contrast from usual. She had always been the center of attention. Now, it felt strange. Unsettling, even.
Suddenly, someone tapped her on the shoulder. Eleanora flinched, trying to pull away—until she heard a familiar voice.
"Your Highness," hissed Lady Hedda.
"Hedda! You startled me. What's going on? Do you know why my name wasn't announced?"
Hedda smiled mischievously. "It's a masquerade, my dear. No one is supposed to know who you are—unless they figure it out themselves."
With a softer smile, she added, "Your parents wanted to give you one night of anonymity. They know it's been a lot lately."
Eleanora enjoyed it. No one asked questions. No forced conversations. Just her and the music. She didn't even mind dancing alone—though, after a few glasses of wine, her inhibitions had all but vanished. The mask shielded her well enough that even up close, she thought, people might not recognize her. She didn't quite remember.
As she stood by the refreshments, stuffing herself with macarons, someone tapped her on the shoulder again.
"Would Your Highness grant me the honor of a dance?" asked a slick voice.
Her mind raced. How did he know who she was? She wore a mask. Or… maybe it didn't conceal as much as she thought.
She didn't want to turn around. Doing so would feel like accepting fate. So she ran—out of the hall, to the only place she could be alone. Where she didn't have to pretend. Where she could spend hours without being found.
The old castle garden was silent, as always. There were ruins here from a burned-down wing—no one had been injured, but the area was off-limits for safety reasons.
Yet Eleanora found it captivating. She loved the way nature reclaimed the ruins. The peace.
But something—no, someone—stopped her.
A tall figure stood before her. It wasn't completely dark, and she could still make out the outline of an adult man. For the first time, Eleanora realized how vulnerable she was. But her curiosity held her in place.
"Good evening," she called. "May I know your name? You shouldn't be here. And how do you even know about this place? It's strictly off-limits."
"Apparently not that strictly, since I got in," the stranger replied. He still didn't face her, which irritated her.
"I ask that you leave, or I'll call the guards," she said firmly, wondering what she'd done to offend the goddess Solíš to deserve not one, but two annoying men tonight.
"But then you'd reveal yourself, wouldn't you? And they'd ask you why you're here." The guards might not ask, but her parents would. And she couldn't lie to them.
She didn't like this man.
As she scowled at him, she noticed his eyes scanning the surroundings—like he was waiting for someone or trying to avoid hers.
"Aren't you supposed to be enjoying the ball?" he asked at last.
"You haven't answered my question. Why should I answer yours?"
"Fair enough. If neither of us wants to answer anything, and neither wants to leave, I suggest we just… stay."
"That sounds like the setup to my own murder. No, thank you." She turned to leave, but he grabbed her wrist. From his startled expression, it was clear even he didn't know why he did that. He let go quickly, as if she were burning coal.
"I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me. Maybe I just didn't want someone as beautiful as you to think I'm a scoundrel."
"I didn't realize you cared what others thought."
"Neither did I," he admitted.
And for the first time, he looked into her eyes.
Eleanora forgot to breathe. His eyes were like a storm over the sea.
She'd never believed her father when he claimed to have fallen in love with her mother's eyes—and recognized her by them. But now… she understood.
The stranger—or scoundrel, as she'd decided to call him—looked away.
"If you want to leave, I won't stop you."
The rational part of her knew she should run as far from him as possible. But she didn't want to. She didn't want to go back to the ball. She didn't want to see Luceris again.
So she made her decision. And if it was her last night, so be it.
She was too drunk and too tired to overthink.
"Would you like to sit, scoundrel? I don't think I can stand much longer."