Morrigan's [Point of View]
Beneath the gilded chandeliers, parents paraded their children like polished trophies their every movement scrutinized by the Empire's gaze.
Silks swirled, jewels glittered and laughter rang sharp as glass...but to me it was nothing but noise, suffocating and endless.
A debutante's night was supposed to be a beginning, a stage for a daughter to prove her worth yet I felt only the ache of a role I did not want.
"A beginning?" I muttered under my breath. "For me, it feels more like a sentence."
I smiled when expected, curtsied when commanded and endured the endless introductions with the hollow poise of a doll.
As soon as the herald finished announcing our arrival, I quietly excused myself.
The garden welcomed me with silence.
Music still bled faintly from the ballroom, muffled by marble walls but here the air was gentler. Roses instead of perfume, moonlight instead of chandeliers.
I could finally breathe.
Here, I could imagine a sword in my hand instead of ribbons on my wrist.
But peace never lasted.
They found me...the noble sons and daughters who always found me.
"Still sneaking off, Morrigan?" one of the girls sneered, silk ribbons dangling from her wrists like chains. "No wonder no one wants to dance with you."
I clenched my jaw, forcing a polite smile I didn't feel.
A boy circled me with a mocking bow. "A duke's daughter who would rather swing a sword than a fan. What a disgrace."
"Look at her hands," someone whispered loud enough for all to hear. "Calloused. How disgusting."
Laughter broke out, cruel and bright.
My fingers curled into my skirts, aching to reach for a sword I wasn't allowed to carry.
Should I drop the formalities and just punch them in the face? I was about to move but then...a shadow leapt from the balcony, the impact cracking against the stones.
"Tsk. I leave the ballroom for one moment and this is what I find? Pest gnawing at roses," the masked boy said, his voice calm but edged with disdain.
His mask hid his face but nothing could hide the eyes—blue as flame, searing in the dark and the mark of imperial blood.
One of the boys tried to steady his voice. "Y-Your Highness, we were only—"
The prince stepped closer, his shadow swallowing theirs. "Only what? Proving how pitiful you are. Preying on someone braver than any of you will ever be."
The girl's face twisted, her bravado faltering. "She...she doesn't belong—"
"Neither do you," he cut in his voice a low verdict. "Leave, before I drag each of you by the throat and scatter you before your fathers."
The color drained from their faces. Not a single word followed only the sound of hurried footsteps, silk and velvet vanishing into the shadows like pest fleeing a torch.
Only then did his gaze turn to me...not with pity, not with disdain but with something far more dangerous.
"You know how to handle swords, my lady. But not words." he said, reckless and certain as though it were the simplest truth in the world.
How dare he...child though he was no older than me yet speaking as if he understood.
I gripped my dress tighter, feeling something inside me snap. "You don't know what it's like..." My voice cracked, trembling yet defiant. "...to be condemned by the world."
For a heartbeat, his eyes flickered with surprise then slowly a smile curved his lips. "I may not know," he said, pausing his voice softer now, "but I know this much my lady will always be most beautiful when she is herself."
"Flattery? How princely of you," I scoffed, though my voice wavered.
"Not flattery," he countered, eyes gleaming. "It's the truth. You'll learn the difference, my lady."
Before I could respond, he extended his hand...not in demand but as an invitation, a gesture of defiance against the world that had shunned me.
"...What is this?" I whispered in awe.
He tilted his head, a mischievous smile tugging at his lips. "I'd like to invite you to a dance...if you're not afraid to step on my toes," he murmured softly and teasing, daring me just a little.
I couldn't help but laugh at his ridiculousness, shaking my head. "Definitely a mouse in princely clothes."
I accepted his hand.
He chuckled low, as if testing the sound of it for himself. "A mouse, am I?"
"I hope this mouse can keep up with me." I teased nudging his shoulder lightly.
"Keep up?" He raised an eyebrow beneath the mask, a spark of challenge in his gaze. "My lady...I'll chase you to the ends of this garden if I must."
"Careful, chase me too far..." I teased, glancing sideways. "And you might actually lose."
"Then let me pray I never do," he murmured with a grin.
We danced under the moonlight.
He never asked for my name and I never asked for his.
Perhaps we knew names were chains and for this fleeting night, we wanted only freedom.
We simply moved together, companions in that fleeting and stolen moment. Yet every step felt less like a dance and more like a duel.
His hand guided but never controlled his steps, daring me to match his rhythm.
The turns were strikes, the spins were parries, the closeness a clash of wills.
For once, my body moved not in obedience to the world but in defiance with it.
For the first time, I was not seen as Morrigan Ausborne, the duke's daughter nor as the girl mocked in silence...I was simply Morrigan, unbound and unashamed.
Roses brushed past us, the night breeze heavy with jasmine and marble. Our hands lingered a heartbeat too long, our eyes meeting in a silent challenge before I pulled back.
His words cut deeper than any sword, carving a fire into me that I knew I would carry for the rest of my life.
⸻ ✦