Well, look who finally stumbled into my story. Took you long enough — I was starting to think you'd leave me to rot in the shadows. Anyway, let me introduce myself. I am Vidalia— an orphan, a thief and most importantly, not royalty.
Still, I'm going to go to that snobbish prince's little party because he has something I want—no, something I need. And before you accuse me of having a broken moral compass, I'll have you know that I'm doing this all for a very noble cause, to help poor people. Heck, I'd go as far as to say I'm the Robin Hood of this godforsaken kingdom. I steal from the rich, which is basically everyone other than me, and I give it to the poor, which is... me.
Yes, I am the poor. My name means Life, and I intend to cling to mine with both hands.
So, enough about me and more on what's going on. Prince Darian of Treotor, heir to this gilded cage of a kingdom, is hosting a royal ball to celebrate his coronation and, as tradition demands, to hunt for a queen. But what matters most is the jewel he'll be flaunting: the Treotor family's most prized ornament, the Heart of Dawn. A sapphire with a deep blue fire, passed down through generations, as precious as it is valuable. Which pretty much makes it an excellent prize for a noble rogue such as myself.
And so I dress up in stolen gowns and borrowed identities, determined to get that rock, surely then I'll finally be able to leave this wretched life behind and settle down in a place of my dreams.
___
The palace glittered like arrogance carved in marble. Nobles swirled across the ballroom, laughter sharp as glass. I adjusted the stolen gown, praying no one noticed the seams fraying at the edges.
From across the room, I caught sight of Sora— my childhood best friend and a maid in the palace. She'd risked everything sneaking me in tonight, whispering warnings I ignored. Her eyes followed me nervously from the shadows, lips mouthing prayers I had no intention of answering.
And then, before I could vanish into the crowd, Prince Darian appeared. His hand caught mine, lips brushing my knuckles.
'May I have this dance?'
I barely had time to breathe before he swept me onto the floor, spinning me into his rhythm. His grey eyes pierced down at me, sharp and unrelenting.
'Have I ever seen you before?'
'No, Your Majesty,' I lied smoothly. 'I come from a kingdom quite far away.'
His lips curled into a faint smile. 'A kingdom far away, you say? How… convenient.'
The sapphire — the Treotor family's Heart of Dawn — gleamed at his throat, mocking me with every turn. So close. So impossibly close.
'I am the Duchess of…' I hesitated, then forced confidence into my voice. '…Elaria, from the kingdom of Veyra. I bring my warmest regards, Your Majesty.'
His eyebrow arched, a smirk tugging at his lips. 'Duchess of Elaria, hm? Funny. I've travelled every inch of my realm and beyond, yet somehow I've never heard of such places.'
'Perhaps because Veyra lies across the Abyssal Strait,' I countered quickly. 'A treacherous passage only our sailors dare to cross.'
He chuckled, twirling me under his arm. 'Ah, the Abyssal Strait. Storms that shred sails and sanity alike. And yet here you stand — not a hair out of place, miraculously un-drowned.'
Leaning close, his breath ghosted my ear. 'Either you're the finest sailor in history… or someone's been spinning fairy tales instead of studying maps.'
I forced a smile. 'Veyran sailors are not to be underestimated. My crew and I braved the strait together…'
He laughed— a rich, unguarded sound that turned heads. 'A crew, you say? Curious. My scouts monitor every vessel that docks in my harbours… and yet not a single "Veyran" ship has been recorded in centuries.'
Suddenly, he dipped me low, lips a whisper away. 'Tell me, little liar… do they teach such bold storytelling in Elaria, or is that talent uniquely yours?'
My pulse raced. I gasped dramatically. 'I will not tolerate such disrespect. I'm leaving.'
I pulled away, heart pounding, the sapphire already tucked into my pocket. Saints above, I was good.
But before I could vanish, his hand snapped out like a viper, tugging me back against his chest. His laugh vibrated through me as he held the jewel aloft, gleaming in the torchlight.
'Ah-ah, Your Grace,' he purred, pulling me close with ease. His free hand holding the gemstone up between us like a trophy.
'I've been stealing crowns since before you could pick a decent lock.'
From the shadows, Sora buried her face in her hands. 'I knew this would happen… please don't be executed…'
Darian twirled me effortlessly across the floor, as if this were all part of the dance. His grey eyes glittered with mischief.
'Tell me, little liar,' he murmured, voice dropping to a whisper, 'do you know what happens to such bold story weavers in this kingdom?'
I drew in a sharp breath. '…Execution.'
His smirk deepened, enjoying the way I squirmed in his grasp. 'Oh no, no… too quick for you, little thief.'
He flicked the sapphire into the air, catching it effortlessly before pressing it back into my palm with deliberate slowness.
'The punishment?' His lips brushed dangerously close to mine, his tone playful but possessive. 'You're sentenced to stay. No dungeons. No ropes. Just… me.'
I blinked, confused. 'Excuse me, what?'
His laughter shook the ballroom, but this time it wasn't triumphant — it was the sound of a man who had just taken a hostage and was enjoying every second of it. He cupped my face, holding me still, his nose brushing mine as if daring me to move.
'Duchess.'
'of.'
'Nowhere,' he declared, voice dripping with amusement. 'You are to be my bride.'