The Grand Ballroom was adorned with the flickering light of candles in every corner, casting a golden glow on the white marble walls. Silk curtains cascaded from the high ceilings, shimmering softly under the light of crystal chandeliers. The gentle strains of violins and the soft notes of a piano filled the air, adding to the elegance of the royal party held in celebration of the crown prince's victory in the war.
Chantrea Crystal entered gracefully, a maroon gown hugging her figure, its white lace sleeves flowing down her arms. Her blonde hair fell loose, like a cascade of gold reflecting the candlelight. All eyes turned to her, not only because of her beauty but also the gentle aura that always radiated from her.
But tonight, her heart was beating faster than usual. It wasn't because of the party or the attention of the nobles, but because of the presence of a man she had only ever heard of through tales of his bravery.
That man sat on a throne beside the king, wearing a royal military uniform adorned with glittering medals. His shoulders were broad, and his eyes were sharp yet held a deep serenity. He was Prince Leonhart Evander, the crown prince who had just returned from the battlefield.
Chantrea bowed politely as their gazes finally met. There was something indescribable in that brief moment—as if time stood still, and they were the only two people in the crowded room.
"Are you going to dance tonight?" whispered one of her friends standing beside her.
Chantrea gave a faint smile, but her eyes never left the prince. I... I'm not even sure I can stand still in front of him, she thought to herself.
And as if the universe approved of her nervousness, the prince began to walk slowly towards her. The sound of his boots on the marble floor drew the attention of everyone present. Yet, Leonhart's eyes were fixed solely on Chantrea.
With a deep yet gentle voice, he extended his hand.
"May I have one dance with you tonight?"
Chantrea froze for a moment. All eyes were on her now, awaiting her answer. But the voice in her heart was louder than the whispers of the outside world. She looked up, gazing directly into the prince's eyes.
"Of course, Your Highness."
Her delicate fingertips met his strong hand. And in that dance, under the shimmering light of the crystals, Chantrea knew—this night would be the beginning of a story that would change her destiny forever.
The music slowly changed, transitioning into a waltz that demanded graceful, rhythmic movements. Leonhart's fingers gently held Chantrea's hand, while his other hand carefully guided her at the waist. The first step felt heavy, not because of difficulty, but because their eyes were so tightly locked.
"I've never seen you at a royal party before," Leonhart said softly, his voice barely audible over the music.
Chantrea offered a faint smile. "You're right, Your Highness. I often avoid crowds like this. But tonight... I feel as though destiny brought me here."
Leonhart's gaze softened, as if her words had ignited something within him.
"Destiny, hmm? Then was it also destiny that made me unable to take my eyes off you from the moment I first saw you at the entrance?"
Chantrea looked down slightly, her cheeks flushing red. How could he say it so easily? Her heart beat uncontrollably, but she tried to maintain her graceful composure.
Step by step, they twirled in the center of the ballroom, as if the world was left with only the two of them. The admiring murmurs of the guests were faint, for all that remained were the whispers of two hearts intertwining.
"If I may ask," Leonhart continued, his voice growing softer, "what is your name?"
"Chantrea Crystal," she answered, her voice steady this time, though her eyes still trembled with nervousness.
Leonhart repeated the name slowly, as if engraving it in his memory. "Chantrea... a name as beautiful as its owner."
Chantrea was silent. No one had ever addressed her in such a way, with such respect and warmth. She began to feel something she couldn't quite understand, a bond that grew so quickly, as if they had known each other long before this meeting.
The music slowly faded, and their dance came to an end. But Leonhart did not immediately release her hand. He looked deeply into Chantrea's eyes, as if wanting to convey something that couldn't be put into words.
"Chantrea," he said softly, "I hope this isn't our last dance."
Immediately, the surrounding atmosphere grew lively again, the guests applauding in admiration. Chantrea took a deep breath, trying to calm her heart, which felt increasingly out of control. She bowed politely, then gave a faint smile.
"I hope so too, Your Highness."
But deep in her heart, Chantrea began to wonder: was this meeting truly just a sweet twist of fate, or was it the beginning of something that would test all her courage?