The Ball of Silken Masks - The palace glittered under chandeliers, golden with light. Laughter echoed across the marble floor as nobles danced, their masks shining like stars. Ariana stood alone for a moment, her satin gown trailing like whispers, her thoughts far from the ballroom. Rowan approached in a deep navy suit, mask lifted just enough to show the smirk playing on his lips. Rowan teased low, "You're quiet tonight, Princess. Not like the girl who once scolded me for stepping on her gown at our first dance." Ariana answered gently, "People change." Rowan stepped closer, offering his hand: "Maybe… but your eyes still search for someone who doesn't deserve you." He pulled her close as the music swelled. Their dance was graceful, elegant—but the tension between them was unspoken. Rowan whispered as they spun, "You're not all here, are you? You've left pieces of yourself behind… with him." Ariana looked away, "I don't know what you mean."
Lucian's Return - As the dance ended, another prince approached Ariana—tall, charming, with a glittering emerald pin. She smiled, polite, and allowed him to lead her away for conversation. From the shadows of the second balcony, he watched. Cloaked in black velvet, face hidden behind a dark mask trimmed with silver. Lucian's eyes burned through the crowd. Thinking, he murmured: Laughing with him? Smiling again? You really think I'll just let you go…? And before the music faded—before anyone could stop him—he moved. In a heartbeat, Ariana was pulled gently yet firmly back. A hand around her waist. The scent of him—a haunting mix of fire and roses. Lucian whispered into her ear, "You still belong to me." Startled, struggling, Ariana said, "Lucian?! No—let me go!" Lucian smiled darkly, "This time, I won't be so gentle."
Back in the Shadows - With a burst of his shadow magic, the world spun. Lights became stars. Sounds twisted into silence. And when Ariana blinked—she was back. The dark kingdom. The velvet halls. The smell of cold stone and lilac oil. Home… or a prison? She couldn't tell anymore. Lucian turned to her slowly: "No more games, Ariana. You're mine. And this time… I'm not letting go, even if you scream." Angrily, Ariana said, "You had no right—" Lucian cut her off, "Neither did you… when you smiled at him like that."
The Confession - The chamber was dimly lit—candles flickering like breath held too long. Lucian stood close, watching Ariana, expecting her usual fury, her pleas, her defiance. But instead… silence. A slow, deep breath from her chest. And then—words. Ariana spoke quietly, looking away: "…I like you." Lucian blinked, uncertain he heard her right. His fingers curled slightly. He stepped forward, soft and disbelieving: "What… did you say?" Still not meeting his gaze, Ariana answered, "That's what you want, isn't it? To hear it from me. I like you, Lucian." She turned toward him slowly. Her voice was soft but strong now. "Not because you chained me. Not because you haunt my dreams. But because… my father came to me in one of them. He said you're worthy. He said I was meant for you." Lucian's expression cracked like ice under sunlight. His breath caught. And then—his smirk softened into something rare: a real smile. Almost boyish. Almost human. Hoarse and stunned, he whispered, "…You're not lying?" Finally meeting his eyes, Ariana said, "No. Not tonight." Lucian stepped back, as if afraid he'd crush the moment. He ran a hand through his hair and laughed once—low, shaky. "Gods… this feels like I've just won a kingdom." He looked at her with reverence now, not possession. For the first time, it wasn't about winning… it was about having. Softly, Lucian said, "You could bring devils to their knees, Ariana. And you just brought me."