The evening air was crisp as our carriage came to a halt before the Emperor's grand party house. The moment the steps touched the ground, Kalix was immediately at my side, steadying me with his strong hand. My family followed close behind, elegant and poised as ever.
I adjusted my mesh face veil, grateful it had protected my gown. Even beneath its delicate shadow, I could feel the eyes of the crowd brushing against me as we entered the enormous doors. The grand hall shimmered with light, every crystal and chandelier reflecting the soft glow of hundreds of candles. The entire space was a cathedral built for vanity.
And then… I saw him.
Prince Ashen, standing beside the Emperor at the front of the hall. Our eyes met for the briefest moment as I bowed to the Emperor, and I felt an almost electric jolt run through me.
Damn, I thought, a small heat rising in my chest.
Murmurs rippled through the crowd, a mixture of awe and curiosity: "Is she the Princess?""I bet she's beautiful…""Her eyes… so sharp.""Is that… the secret princess of the empire?"
We walked straight toward the front, my family leading the way, until we reached the Emperor himself. He stood to greet me, his eyes twinkling with recognition.
"Dravina! You've grown taller—I almost didn't recognize you."
I bowed deeply, a soft laugh escaping me. "I shall take that as a compliment, Your Majesty."
The Emperor smiled warmly before turning to the assembled guests. "Good evening, everyone. My apologies for the sudden party tonight. I simply wish to introduce the princess of the empire—Dravina."
I moved forward gracefully. Just as I reached the front, the Emperor's attendant—Prince Ashen's aide, I realized—quickly stepped forward to steady me. I felt his firm hand guide me, and I bowed once more to the assembly. Every pair of eyes in the hall seemed to follow me, the weight of expectation pressing lightly on my shoulders.
And yet, despite the grandeur and the gazes, all I could see… was Ashen's smile, faint but undeniably directed at me.
Once the formal greetings concluded, the party settled into a polished, lively rhythm. The grand hall hummed with the soft murmur of conversation, the clinking of glasses, and the gentle lilt of music.
On the surface, the scene was one of effortless perfection. But my eyes, honed by years of silent study, saw through the flawless façade. Some smiles were sharp, their calculation thinly veiled. Some bows were a little too deep, a little too rehearsed. Masks—both literal and figurative—were everywhere.
A chilling thought, cold and persistent, slid into my mind: One of these people... one of these guests... could be the person who assassinated the king.
I sipped from my glass, forcing my movements to remain calm and controlled. My gaze swept over the crowd again, dissecting each noble, merchant, and dignitary. Every subtle tell—a twitch of a finger, a flicker in the eyes—could be the missing piece of the puzzle.
Tonight wasn't a celebration. It was a hunt. And I was both the prey and the predator.
I noticed Prince Ashen approaching, and in that moment, the entire room seemed to hold its breath. My heart hammered against my ribs.
He's walking toward me. What should I do?
I turned to look at Kalix, but he simply stepped back and bowed slightly. A clear, silent signal: give them space.
Ashen drew near, his movements smooth and purposeful. He stopped before me, his bow a gesture of fluid grace, and extended his hand.
"May I have this dance?" he asked. His voice was calm, yet its quiet authority left no room for refusal.
"My pleasure," I answered, my voice steady as I took his hand. The warmth of his touch was a jolt, and the knot of panic in my chest began to unravel, replaced by a dangerous thread of excitement.
As we moved across the polished floor, my senses sharpened. Ashen's hand guided mine with a steady warmth, yet my mind was a whirlwind of observation.
He moved with an effortless grace, yet I felt the same quiet alertness in him that I carried myself. He wasn't simply dancing—he was watching everything, too.
"Are you always this... attentive at parties?" Ashen's voice was a soft, teasing murmur.
I tilted my head slightly. "You'll have to forgive me," I murmured. "This is my first time at one. Ever."
"So, this is the great Lady Seira Dravina's debut," he mused, a half-smile playing on his lips. "I'd have imagined you to be a natural at this."
"A lifetime of studying scrolls doesn't exactly prepare you for a waltz," I said, allowing a small, dry laugh.
"Perhaps not for the waltz itself," he countered, "but for the dangers that lie in wait. Am I right?"
"You never know what kind of danger hides behind a smile," I answered, the playful mask dropping away for a moment.
"And you've always been good at finding things that are hidden," he whispered, a silent reference to our history.
As we twirled, I silently logged the positions of the key players. The culprit is here. One of them is watching... waiting... but so am I.
Ashen leaned closer, his breath a warm whisper against my ear. "You're very precise," he said, his words a blend of admiration and subtle intimacy.
"Precision is necessary," I murmured, even as my heart raced. My mind, however, was cataloging the faces of everyone in the room.
The dance continued, an elegant facade of a carefree night, but beneath the laughter and music, a silent hunt was underway.
My gaze rose to meet Prince Ashen's. His presence was a palpable force, a quiet, commanding aura. His eyes, sharp as a hunter's, seemed to pierce through the layers of my persona. It was simply unfair, I thought, how effortlessly he commanded attention while revealing nothing.
Ashen was a man defined by his precision—strict, unyielding, a force of will. He didn't need to raise his voice; his very presence was enough to quiet a room. Beneath that icy exterior lay a brilliant mind, a tactical genius. This was what I admired most.
And yet, watching him now, a doubt began to creep in. His face remained a perfect mask, his thoughts hidden behind layers of unbreakable composure. I even found him impossible to read. It was a maddening puzzle.
What are you thinking, Ashen? I wondered. Are you an ally to be trusted… or another threat I have yet to uncover?
After our final twirl, Prince Ashen guided me back to my seat, where Sylvia and Kalix waited.
"Thank you for dancing with me," he said, his voice a smooth, silken mystery. Then, with a slight bow, he raised my hand to his lips, a whisper of a touch against my skin. "I'll cherish this moment."
KYAAA! My heart slammed against my ribs. Keep it together, Dravina. Breathe. My perfectly composed mask didn't falter for a moment, but inside, I was a storm of frantic, adolescent emotion. No. He is not allowed to affect me like this.
The instant he turned away, I let out a quiet, controlled exhale. Sylvia gave me a small, knowing glance but wisely said nothing.
Kalix leaned in, his voice a low murmur. "No suspicious movements so far," he said, "but I need more information about the senator's wife—the one openly opposing the emperor. My instincts tell me something about her is wrong."
I gave a subtle nod. "Understood," I replied. "Gather what you can. And for now, enjoy the party," I added, letting a bit of trust and warmth soften my voice. "But never forget why we are here."
They bowed and moved to follow my instructions. I remained poised, my mind anything but. Secrets lurked like shadows beneath the elegance and the smiles.
My attention sharpened when I caught sight of the senator's wife. Her carefully composed smile faltered as she slipped away from the lively crowd, heading toward a dim, quiet corridor at the far edge of the ballroom. What are you up to?
Moving with calculated grace, I plucked a glass of wine from a passing servant's tray. I feigned the air of a bored noble wandering the room. Silently, I followed her. My mesh veil and cloak were blessings now, my identity obscured.
The music and laughter faded. I stopped near a tall window draped in heavy curtains, the shadows concealing me perfectly. A sliver of light spilled from a half-open doorway nearby. And I listened.
"I feel something is not right here," a woman's voice hissed, sharp and commanding. It was the senator's wife. "Why is it that I know nothing about this so-called secret princess?"
My grip on the wine glass tightened. They're talking about me.
"My apologies, my lady," a man's voice answered quickly, thick with fear. "We were not informed about her existence."
"Useless fools!" the senator's wife snapped, venom dripping from every syllable.
Another man spoke, his tone careful. "Forgive us, my lady, but from what little we've gathered, the secret princess is none other than the youngest daughter of the Elyndralis royal family. We must assume that she is destined to become queen at the age of twenty-two… alongside the future king, Prince Kaein."
My breath caught. So they already know pieces of the truth… but not the whole picture.
Hidden in the shadows, I was calm, like a predator waiting for the perfect strike. If they suspected too much, I would silence them before they could utter my name again.
A slow, cold smile curved my lips beneath the veil. They had no idea whose web they'd stumbled into.
I shifted silently closer, the dagger concealed beneath my cloak a comforting weight at my hip.
Suddenly, a man stumbled back from the group, his eyes wide with pure terror. He hadn't seen me, but he had run right into the waiting shadow of my knight.
"Y-you… you shouldn't be here," he stammered. "This is a party for nobles! If anyone sees—"
His words were cut off by the sharp, deliberate sound of Kalix unsheathing his sword. The cold glint of steel froze the man in place.
"Too late for excuses," Kalix growled, his tone like iron. "You've already been marked."
Before the man could scream, Sylvia moved like a shadow, slipping behind him and striking a precise point at the back of his neck with the hilt of her dagger. His body went limp, collapsing into her arms.
"Clean work, Sylvia," I said, stepping out of the shadows. My voice was calm, almost bored.
"Always, my lady," she replied, a faint smirk on her lips.
"Dispose of him?" Kalix asked, his sword still raised, ready for blood.
"No," I said sharply. "Not yet. He has answers I need. Tonight, he lives—barely."
Kalix's mouth twitched, a predator's grin tugging at his lips. "Understood."
The man was still conscious enough to be terrified, his eyes darting frantically between my calm face, Kalix's lethal sword, and Sylvia's professional grip. The hunt was over for the night, but the interrogation was just beginning.
Sylvia shifted the man's weight expertly, supporting him against the wall like a drunken guest. She worked with the quiet precision of someone who had done this a hundred times.
"The clock is ticking, My Lady," Sylvia murmured, her eyes flicking toward the distant crowd. "We need to get him out without alerting the Senator's wife."
I glanced back at the doorway where the meeting had taken place. The Senator's wife was still inside, busy dissecting my life. Perfect.
"Kalix," I commanded, my voice barely a whisper against the faint music. "Take the west exit. The one the servants use. The carriage should be waiting one hundred paces past the outer wall."
"Understood," he responded, his sword disappearing back into its sheath with a barely audible click. He draped the man's limp body over his broad shoulder, making him look like a weary, slightly oversized cape.
As Kalix moved away, blending instantly into the deep corridor shadows, I took a final look toward the ballroom. The music was picking up, covering any small sounds we might have made. The nobles were laughing, drinking, and dancing, blissfully unaware that a key player in the king's assassination plot had just been abducted from their midst.
Let them dance.
I adjusted my veil and smoothed the fine silk of my gown, erasing any trace of movement. Sylvia stepped back to my side, her eyes clear and expectant. I placed my empty wine glass on a nearby pedestal. The perfect picture of a princess who simply wandered off for a quiet moment.
"We return to the party," I told Sylvia, a cool smile curving my lips beneath the mesh. "I have not yet paid my respects to the Empress, and I'd hate to be rude."
And so, with the kidnapped messenger already on his way to the warehouse, the huntress re-entered the ballroom, ready to reclaim her role as the stunning, untouchable Princess Dravina. The night was still young, and the game had just entered a very dangerous, and very personal, new phase.