"A masquerade ball?" I asked, batting my eyelashes inquisitively.

As a girl of the 21st century, a masquerade ball would be something straight out of a fairytale, out of Shakespearean scripts and medieval times. It would be something so novel to me. When I first heard it from the Heir's mouth, I wasn't sure on what to think of it.

But I definitely was anticipating to see it with my very own eyes if given the chance to.

The members of the Assemblage held another meeting after Prince Eugene Brancen summoned us to the Round Table. It was an easy trip to the fountain. The palace had been busy fending off the angered mass of townspeople at the gates, which is why we were free to sneak away as we please.

"I expected this would be Father's reaction." The Heir confidently stated. "I was waiting for his countermove ever since. Typical of him to try killing you at the ball. He must be thrilled by the concept of an audience finding your dead body a mere exhibition."

I could feel my hairs on my arms stand.

"How delightful." I managed to say along with a hard swallow. For him, that is.

"The Grand Masquerade Ball," began Prince Nathaniel James as he rubbed his chin, "is a social gathering upon the opening of May to celebrate the kingdom's birth. Noblemen of other kingdoms flock in and visit the king. Those who made him wealthier were granted a land far from here under the property of Grand. That's why we don't come across them that often. They wear masks and dance all night long, praising and kissing the man on the throne."

"It's quite the event." Prince Jacob Erhart sighed. "We haven't even reached the end of April yet. He probably cancelled our other schedules. Won't that anger the folk more?"

"I heard the Herald's announcement." The youngest raised a hand to gain our attention. "He invited every Grandee, including the townsfolk."

Prince Agustus Dane scrunched his nose in disdain. "Of course. What a way to quell a riot. They had always looked forward to the ball. Ever since he took over King Ephraim, he never allowed commoners inside the palace."

The previous king, His Majesty Ephraim Brennus Grand, was a decent guy based on my readings at the palace library. He married a princess of a currently forgotten kingdom, the late Queen Anastasia Nikolei Fyre. He was a cool dude. He didn't trick his people to corruption. But, well, he must've been bad at raising kids. Eldred's a great example. He's a total nutjob!

I also noticed that the Grand family likes naming their firstborns with the letter E.

"The sword dance is the highlight of the event." Prince Vante Osburne expounded, pulling me out of my thoughts and back to the discussion. "He will use that to his advantage and instruct his men to attack Rosette during the performance."

Prince Jacque Darryl gasped in horror. "So the seven dancing knights will be using real swords instead of props."

"Exactly."

"And I can't use Aculeus." I added, grinding my teeth. Damn it, he really wanted to be thorough with this new murder attempt. I'm glad that the Heir was aware of his plans. We got to be a step ahead of that scoundrel.

"No need to fret, milady." Prince Eugene grinned. "Pardon my discourtesy of saying this. However, you will have to be a damsel in distress again."

I scoffed as I leaned backward on my chair. The memory of my dramatics from before made me cringe. "A damsel, sure. But not in distress."

I heard a muffled laugh from Prince Nathaniel who sat directly in front of me. I shot him a warning look. He immediately cleared his throat and pretended to go on with his business. I then caught Prince Agustus smirking to himself, eyeing his tapping fingers as though they were ones that amused him.

Groaning, I surrendered my face onto my palms.

There would be someone else who'd make fun of me for this. I mean, if the conflict between us never happened.

I sneaked a glimpse at the empty seat across the wooden table with 𝕼𝖚𝖎𝖓𝖙𝖔 branded to it. Prince Agustus noticed and I quickly averted his gaze.

"It is tradition that his children join the dance as representatives for the family of Grand. Hence, we shall defend you at each strike of their swords." The eldest finished, giving me a pat of reassurance on the head.

I mustered a shy smile.

"Seven against seven," mumbled Prince Jacob aloud, an excited shine in his dark irises, "I must say... It's enticing."

"If you're the one sharing that opinion, I imagine bloodshed." The fourth-born jolted at his brother's chosen adjective. He must be kidding as usual. Right?

I glanced at Prince Jacob.

"Since we have to be rational with our actions, I won't kill them."

I gulped.

"Besides, I can't." He continued. They attack theatrically. Thus, we defend theatrically."

"Well said, brother." The Heir beamed. "We should not create an unecessary, early havoc. Royalty from other lands will be onlookers, too. Our secret acts must remain unknown beyond our borders."

They nodded in perfect sync.

"Does Tayden know about this?" I unconsciously blurted out.

There was a brief pause. I picked up the faint shuffling of feet underneath the table. It was normal for them to feel a bit uncomfortable. I felt sorry, but I can't help it. I think about him all the freakin time. I was a prisoner of my feelings.

And perhaps everyone knew.

Prince Eugene was the one to answer, which wasn't shocking. "Yes, I informed him and he agreed with it. I will go to his chambers again later."

"Okay," I said with a breath, "thank you."

He smiled at me before returning to the discussion. "While all of us distract the king, we need someone who can travel to Duva in secret. That person will be given a very important mission. It is to deliver this letter I wrote to Lady Audeath."

Lady Audeath became the temporary ruler of Duva after Her Majesty Isabella died. She was once the queen's most trusted adviser and seneschal. According to the books, she's still quite young, close to the Heir's age maybe.

"Should I go?" volunteered Prince Jacob.

I was willing to do the extra assignment as well, if only I wasn't the main source of entertainment at the ball.

"No, the king will notice one of us missing, for a lot of his spies might be watching our every move. We need someone else, someone who can lay low without attracting attention, someone who is living nearby the neighboring kingdom."

"Is there even an individual who is befitting of such category?" the bespectacled prince asked with a doubtful tone.

"There is." Prince Vante spoke up, raising his head to my direction. We exchanged long, silent stares. Then, I finally knew who he was referring to.

I gasped, a hand to my mouth as I exclaimed in understanding.

"Mona."

"Me?" Mona blinked profusely, her index finger pointing at herself.

Her mother was generous enough to offer us tea and biscuits, but I politely declined it, knowing that they were probably prized treats in their household that they managed to get from the market.

To avoid having anyone accidentally overhear our conversation, I told Mona that it was a serious matter involving the kingdom of Grand, and she automatically dragged me outside their cottage. Soon, we were at the meadows, sitting under a tree for shade.

Looking at their home from here, it appeared to be like a miniature vintage dollhouse.

The breeze was nice.

The guilt of having my friend involved in this mess wasn't.

"Mona, you are free to refuse—"

"No, I'll do it!" she instantaneously lunged forward in her seated position. I flinched at the sudden movement.

I frowned. "You...will?"

"Absolutely!" her eyes glimmered like brown sillimanite as she giggled—a reaction I never would've guessed. "It is an honor of mine to serve Their Highnesses! Also, I get to be part of a stupendous conspiracy against evil! How amazing is that?!"

I let out a bewildered exhale.

I underestimated this girl. She's undoubtedly the 18th-century version of Lisa. Enthusiasm oozing out of her was a normal character trait.

And her overwhelming goodness always prevailed in impressing me.

After my friend willingly accepted the quest, I elaborated our plans (or what she referred to as stupendous conspiracy against evil) thereafter and then the topic shifted to the upcoming masquerade ball.

"I'm worried about the dance." I confessed, fumbling for the rocks at my feet with anxious hands. "I might end up stomping on their shoes."

My friend grinned at this and quickly stood up, dusting off her dress in the process while she huffed jubilantly. "Well, today must be your lucky day! You have come to the right place for a dance lesson!"

I gaped at her.

Oh yeah! How could I forget? Lisa loves dancing. It fueled her blood and was her way of expressing herself to the world.

Her past self wasn't any different.

"Rise, mademoiselle! You will astonish everyone at the party with your grace and beauty!" said Mona with a funny intonation, almost as though she was reciting lines from a vintage movie.

I chortled, nowhere near grace and beauty.

She grabbed my wrist to make me stand, eventually guiding me through the steps of a flouncy waltz. We both laughed and enjoyed the sensation of the wind ruffling our hair, blowing at our skirts. I somehow caught up with her pace thanks to her small mumbles of one, two, three, one, two, three. I was rigid with my stances though. The tall grass swayed along with us, in spite that we were lacking background music.

I smiled, trying not to be emotional.

I'm glad to have her as a friend. I'm glad to have a Lisa in this century.

Third Person's POV

Upon the night of the moon waxing into a crescent magnum opus, people dressed in fashionable garbs and sparkly ballgowns swarmed past the gates of the Grand Palace. Masks covered their faces, so it had become a guessing game for the folk to see who was who among the guests.

Maids and butlers welcomed them inside with smooth ushering gestures, opening the double doors that led to the vast ballroom in flawless synchronization. They paraded to the dance floor—not yet dancing but enthusiastic to do so. It was the exhilaration of being themselves without the fear of being judged. Wearing fanciful masks and noble clothing made them feel shameless enough to have fun like there was no tomorrow, only tonight.

Because this was the night of all nights that gave them the chance to be their true persona while displaying a false identity.

The seven princes, putting on animal masks of their own, blended with them in no time. Ladies and gents wondered what faces hid behind those costumes. They were haunting, so haunting, yet so beautiful to look at. Ignoring them was almost impossible.

"Tayden, you're back!" white bunny-masked Prince Jacque Darryl joyfully ran up to hug his sibling as tiny golden droplets of his disguise glittered under chandelier glow, quickly recognizing the fifth-born despite the scaly snake skin design of gray over the upper part of his face. A ribbon of silk, similar to the murky depths of an evening lake, was wrapped around the older one's head to hold it in place.

"Shh! Not so loud." Prince Tayden Pharrell whisper-shouted, smiling a little.

The rest of his brethren surrounded him. He swerved his regard to twin Prince Vante Osburne, who-based on what the Heir said to him-showed signs of surprising concern towards his stay at the chambers. He couldn't see an expression on the sixth-born though, for unlike him, Prince Vante wore a full tiger mask. There were hints of stripes. Fangs replaced human lips. Dusty bronze burned at every side, imitating flames that had the tiger look like it caught fire.

"Where is she? Rosette?" queried Prince Tayden to the group. His tone wasn't particularly hostile, but there was a chill to it that could crawl down a spine.

Prince Agustus Dane, with his mask of a cat doused in fragile black of a hungry abyss that cuts at the snout, kept his exposed mouth shut. Both of you always ask about each other in the end even after everything that has happened, huh.

He felt bitter out of it, however overall relieved. The maiden would be happy to hear that Tayden didn't throw her existence away completely.

"I have not seen the woman." Prince Nathaniel James replied faster than the second-born. His mask was common among the people but also charming in its own appeal, encrusted with swirling silver from the chin up until the cheekbones topped with classy bird feathers at his temples.

Behind him, Prince Jacob Erhart, wore the bear mask after his suggestion (more like, persuasion) of using it since Nathaniel insisted that it matched him perfectly. Instead of having beastly features however, it was an attractive costume once gazed upon. The ears were slightly pointy. Golden brown laces traced along the edges. When shed light, the surface shined a bright white. When the prince turned to the opposite direction, it was copper. Intricate details accumulated the space with elegance.

"The guards won't catch her. I told them to relax tonight." Prince Jacob updated, looking over the armored men at the far pillars. "Let us hope that she does not stand out from the crowd."

Prince Eugene Brancen was quiet, rehashing their plans in his mind. His half mask was magnificent but was also the simplest of appearances. Its base color was blank, like a sheet of paper, then lathered with pools of creamy gold around the eyes. Symbols of winged creatures frolicked at his brows, making it seem as though he wore a diadem. His was the most dangerous animal among others: a human.

Before the Heir could respond to the third-born's statement, an approaching figure already stole his attention, along with a breath he couldn't take.

He smiled. "There she is."

Almost as though it was on purpose, a band of musicians in vanilla-coated clothes began to play the strings. During a soft violin solo, a young lady stepped out of the thick curtains and made her way down the flight of stairs. A man in navy blue doublets perceived her presence and gawked at her in awe, piquing the interest of a nearby individual, then another after another.

Soon, everyone was looking at her.

Her long, blonde hair was loose and flowy like a carpet trailing behind her. Two sections of each side were braided with velvet threads and met in the middle at the back of her head. Black gloves covered most of her arms. Her customized mask was of the same color, with red roses decorated on the right side, starting at the temple and ending at her lips.

She was wearing a heart ballgown that had the color of blood. It glimmered under the candlelights like a stream of stardust had been sprinkled on the fabric. The ruffles of her skirt layered one on top of the other, resembling flower petals. She was a rose revealing her thorns, a rose delivering a message of war.

"I made that." Mrs. Hemsworth grinned proudly to her amazed husband, pointing at her work. "The design was her idea though."

A gaggle of girls, daughters of noblemen, heard her and eagerly sprinted towards the old couple.

"I want something like it!"
"Me too!"
"Please, whatever the cost!"

The music grew louder as more instruments chimed in. Some folk moved their bodies to the beat and selected their partners, dancing passionately without any restraints. Some stayed by the banquet tables, either indulging the taste of honey wine and roasted lamb or socializing with the guests, especially those who came from distant kingdoms.

Briar Rosette walked to where the princes waited. Regardless of the ebony choker around her neck and the ladylike air she exudes, anyone from the group knew it was her by observing how her emerald eyes shone beneath the mask while she watched the revelry with pure curiosity. She was a 21st-century girl trapped in an 18th-century realm, ensorcelled by them as if she believed in the magic of time.

"You are literally breathtaking." Prince Eugene remarked, kissing her hand.

Her cheeks heat up at that, but fortunate for her, the mask hid the evidence of such. The heels were killing her feet. She missed her leather boots. And Aculeus.

The rest of the princes stood mute, obviously still awestruck.

"May I have the chance of introducing myself, fair lady?" a voice startled Rosette from behind, forcing her to turn around. She secretly clutched onto the Heir's sleeve.

There stood a flamboyant man, curls that had the color of spilled ink falling onto his venetian mask which was decorated with checkered patterns like a chess board. His suit was as deep as the night sky, almost as if it was drinking up the light around him.

Because of their moment interrupted by the stranger, the rest of the princes glowered at him as though he entered the wrong bubble. The ceremony has just begun and yet the maiden had already gained unnecessary attention.

Although it wasn't primary, Rosette had a goal to remain quiet until the conclusion of the ball, so she simply nodded.

"I am Brunor le Noir. You must have heard of me. My people call me Sir Brunor, for I am a man of knighthood."

He bowed. She curtsied.

They frowned.

When she didn't speak, the knight chuckled, gaze landing on her chest area. "You are quite the timid one, aren't you? Do you want to talk somewhere else? Come on. No need to be shy—"

The instant he leaned forward to grab her by the waist, a polished shoe aggressively stomped on his toes. The knight, not wearing his usual armor, felt the impact and mutely yelped in pain, pulling his hand away from the flustered female.

"Sorry," said Prince Agustus apathetically, "my foot slipped."

The group shared a look. No idiot would accept such a half-hearted excuse.

Sir Brunor faked a cough, trying to forget about the throbbing of his toes. "A-Anyway, I humbly come from the Kingdom of Saberenth. I can take you there if you wish."

"Okay, Brunor." Prince Tayden deadpanned.

There was an awkward silence.

Rosette had the urge to smack her palm onto her face. Assassins.

"What did you call me, young lad?" the knight raised a brow, taking off his mask. He was incredulous to the audacity of the youth hiding behind the costume. His entitlement must be respected no matter what. "I demand to know who you are."

"What did you call me, sir?" countered the fifth-born prince with a mischievous sneer. Once he utters his full name, the man would be on his knees.

"That is enough, Tayden." Prince Eugene intervened, plastering a smile as he got in-between the two of them. He glanced at his bear-masked brother and communicated through his darting eyes.

Prince Jacob didn't waste another minute and wrapped his arm around the knight's shoulder, belting out a weird laugh. Sir Brunor was shocked at the lad's firm muscles. Who are these people?

"So, you're a knight!" beamed the third-born, dragging him away. He glimpsed at the group with a thumbs-up as they vacated the scene. "Do you know Sir Parcival of Grand perhaps?"

The knight's face lit up. It was a topic he very much liked. "You mean Percivale? Ah yes, he was a chivalrous hero to many. His name will be forever honored for future generations..."

Their voices drowned in the mixed noises of the music and the merriment. Their figures disappeared within the crowd in a short span of seconds.

"We will see him again later. I mean, Sir Brunor of Saberenth and the other knights who will perform the dance." The Heir reminded his members, reminded them of the real event getting near. "Let us move to the next table. Jacob should be there."

"Nathan." He said again, a demand to their ears at this repeat rather than an behest.

They checked the male who was called out. To their exasperation, they witnessed him flirt with a bunch of court ladies who were fawning over the eloquence of his words, even if his pronunciation was a bit slurred. Rosette saw the shiny cup that contained a nasty green liquor in his hand. She groaned and slapped it away, letting the remaining amount soak into the tablecloth. For a brief moment, the prince seemed sober as he stared at her in disbelief. The ladies gasped.

"Primo wants us to leave." She was careful with her chosen referral for Prince Eugene while spitting out the fact that he was the Heir to the Throne who must be obeyed. "Now."

"Right, right, sorry." Prince Nathaniel mumbled, embarrassed. He unlatched himself from the drunk women clinging onto his suit. They didn't want him to go. However, he eventually manipulated them into believing that they would have an encounter once more. As long as fate sought for the development of our romance. He said.

A classic, really.

They proceeded to slip along the corners, avoiding the dancing circles as much as possible. During longueurs of a minstrel, the maiden overheard a conversation when she passed by a duo. She did a side-glance and listened like a mouse sniffing out a new type of cheese.

"So? Was there anyone you found interesting?" prompted a lovely lady in a pristine gown that emphasized her curves, designed with the shades of a summer leaf. Rosette could tell that she was an extravagant royal by her posture alone. Falcon feathers rested on one side of her mask that was speckled in powdered gold. Her dark hair was tied into a braided bun.

"None." The person she conversed with answered bleakly. Also a female, albeit her mien appeared younger. At first glance, her hair would be black, but then it glistened streaks of brunette under incandescence. It was too short to be braided, so the bob was fashioned with enormous flower pins. She wore a conservative autumn-hued dress that stretched up to her neck, a ruby gemstone at her chest. Her mask was shaped like a vixen.

Receiving that response made the older lady grin, her fancy fan of fur over her matted lips. "Ah! Then I ought to introduce you to this gentleman!"

The younger female was quick in opening her mouth to deny the date she never asked for, but the gentleman was quicker.

"Greetings," a fox-masked boy did a baronial bow, "Princess Aiora from the Kingdom of Encielle, I could recognize you with or without the costume. You are a locus classicus of sophistication and beauty, your eyes the windows to your vehement soul..."

The princess released a breath, tired despite that she was a stray from vigorous activities. As the boy never stopped talking, her bored gaze scanned the ballroom.

And it landed onto Rosette, who was still staring at her. Both of their eyes widened in unison.

Hastily, the maiden pretended to giggle at Prince Jacque's joke, but there was no joke at all and the seventh-born blinked at her in befuddlement. Before he could question her though, the booming sound of trumpets interrupted the entire carouse, signaling that the most important person has arrived.

The king.

"Praise and glory be to His Majesty," the Herald announced in loud volume, "King Eldred Grand!"

Everyone bowed low as the king sauntered along the lavish red carpet that led to the dais where the golden throne awaits. His furry cape slithered across the floor. Tons and tons of treasures were all over his body, making him sparkle so gloriously like he was an otherworldly creature among mortals. The townsfolk gawped at him collecting the reflected light with his flashy stones, thinking about the money he used for his own greed.

The princes and the maiden bowed with the audience, contrary to their wishes. Rosette gritted her teeth, simmering down the anger lurching in her stomach.

"Raise your heads, my dear guests." King Eldred smiled, reaching his throne but not yet seated. "This is a night of celebration! I want every single one of you to be full—of cold meats and of fine wine, of gaiety and of high spirits. This is a night to be alive!"

There was a round of applause.

Ha-ha, funny. Rosette rolled her eyes.

"Speaking of such, I do desire to have my darling wife next to me." His face, with no mask, could be seen contorting in false grief. The spectators went stiff, including the members of the Assemblage. "It was the fault of our tragedies. Hear me speak my confession. I hereby confirm to you...that your queen was, indeed, murdered."

The royal families who didn't know about this were surprised, but not ultimately dumbfounded. They also have their own set of palace intrigues, so it wasn't big news to them. What surprised them was that the king decided to make a speech of it right there and then, at the very heart of his ostentatious party.

For the invited villagers though, there was silence.

"My memory of that incident maintains its vividness." He elevated his prospect to the line of chandeliers as though his crocodile tears were about to spill. "Me and my family were under attack, and my wife made a sacrifice. It was tremendously painful. The following years felt slow."

He sighed, rubbing his gradually reddening face. "She was so dear to me. She was my other half. She gave me a home."

Small sniffles could be heard from below the stage.

"We have yet to catch the evil who started the fire. But I assure you, she will be cherished for her bravery and contribution to our kingdom..."

Rosette stopped listening. It wasn't worth it. It was all high-pitched ringing to her ears.

Prince Jacob snickered to his brother with the feathered mask. "So that's where you got that silver tongue of yours."

"Oh, leave off." Prince Nathaniel grunted, lightly punching the shoulder of the jeering third-born. The rest of the princes stifled their snickers.

"Utter rubbish." Prince Vante said sassily as a reaction to his father's fraudulent speech. The maiden couldn't see through his tiger mask, so she imagined he was giving the man a dirty look, judging by his comment.

When the people clapped in harmony and offered comforting sentences to the man on the dais, Rosette also knew they had just been undoubtedly convinced by the lies of a sly ruler.

The wild revel was heated. Nearly everyone was swept by the strong currents of ecstasy, jolly and intoxicated with heavy alcohol, the scent of birch and parsnip lingering in the air. Feet ached. Hands held another's. Infectious laughter was relentless.

King Eldred sneered at them, the vulnerable and easy prey. He spotted the maiden he was looking for. Rosette definitely stood out among the crowd—with her glamorous, rose-themed masquerade outfit—and she did it with the intention of making the king believe he will be winning tonight, even though he won't.

She will live to see the dawn.

"Let us commemorate this celebration by tradition...to honor our ancestors." He lifted the sword from his belt. "I call upon the men gifted of knighthood and grant them a dance with my seven sons."

The princes stepped forward with their exquisite animal disguises. There were whispers going around between the audience who retreated towards the banquet tables to spectate. Some were claiming that their guess about the mystery guys was correct and some were amazed that the existence of the said princes was real.

Meanwhile, Sir Brunor's face paled at the familiar snake-masked male in front of him.

"We meet again, sir." Prince Tayden smirked.

The knights hurriedly greeted them, dropping on one knee.

"One lucky guest shall partake in this." The king's additional request sounded like a blast to their eardrums. He smiled, gesturing at the maiden at the first row of the crowd who was secretly waiting for his regard. "Guest of Grand, might you be our humble painter?"

It was hardly a guess. But she went along with it anyway.

She did a graceful curtsy and took off her mask, revealing herself to the people. "You have good eyes, Your Majesty. You knew it was me behind it."

Rosette wasn't talking about the mask.

King Eldred laughed at this, picking up the true meaning. "And you have a good mouth. I find it commendable. Because of your deeds, I will make you shine the brightest tonight. Do you accept this, Miss Ermengard?"

The maiden beamed sweetly, but her eyes tell a different story. "With pleasure."

"Let us conclude this ball with the sword dance!" the Herald announced and the spectators cheered, their wineglasses clinking as they did a toast.

Somewhere else, along the outskirts of the kingdom, Mona gazed at the luminescence of the Grand Palace from the distance.

"I hope she's doing okay." She said, putting on her cloak as she folded the letter that the Assemblage entrusted to her and slipped it into her bodice.

She then mounted on her horse, gripped onto the reigns and their shadows galloped deep in the woods beyond, the flags of Duva being the mark of their destination.

The notes of a string melody flowed smoothly.

Rosette's palms began to sweat inside her gloves. The men encircled her like they were her garden and she was their flower blooming at the center. The swords at their hips were no ornaments.

Sir Brunor slid across the tiles, unsheathing his weapon. There was a chorus of squeals from the court ladies, amazed by how dashing he was. While Rosette was spreading her arms to symbolize a damsel asking for rescue, the knight approached her.

"Is it your destiny to see me again?" he suggested quietly, his smile his charm.

"No," she tilted her head, glimpsing at the tip of carbon steel teasingly aimed towards her, "since my destiny is to die against the blade."

The knight's brows shot up. "So you knew."

She chuckled. "More than you ever will."

"Peculiar, you are." He said, acting out his role as the enemy of the dance with a foot backward and a weapon ready to strike. "I do not know why we are tasked to do this, but your death of this performance must be realistic. Perhaps you did something that enraged the king. And thus, you deserve punishment. One fit for an entertainer."

He thrust his sword.

But it missed.

There was another round of applause.

Rosette looked up at the young man who pulled her arm to make her dodge it. It was the Heir to the Throne, smiling at her with his half mask. They've been through so many things together. She was his spy. He was her partner. Memories washed over her upon his touch.

"May I have this dance?" he formally asked, extending his hand.

The audience swooned.

She beamed, taking it gratefully. "Of course."

At this, the true battle commenced. The knights became more alert. The princes noticed, their stances more intense. King Eldred squinted at them. His vision was blurry. He clicked his tongue in irritation. He shouldn't have drunk so much.

The maiden's ballgown made it a hassle for her to move freely, and her heels clacked fiercely at every turn. She was a bit dizzy when she landed on someone's chest after evading another hit.

It was exhausting to stay alive.

"This happened back then as well." The third-born cracked a comedic recollection, his bear mask reflecting the light. She also recalled that scene, that scene when there were fireflies at the Training Field. She refrained from smiling in the middle of role-playing.

Prince Jacob seemed nonchalant compared to the others, his experience with the sword almost as great as trained soldiers. He let her rest behind him and Rosette theatrically posed like she was scared of the opponents. The fourth-born then swooped in as though he was truly a bird, grabbing her wrist and having her spin.

"We are actually dancing for our lives here." He scoffed, executing the steps. His feathers were shaking with the rhythm. It was strange that the maiden wasn't scared. Instead, all she could think was that Prince Nathaniel wore a hilarious mask.

Maybe it was because they were fighting for her, fighting with her.

And she had gotten used to the rush.

The enemies fell one by one. The performance shouldn't last too long. Once the swords of the princes poked them slightly, they gave up and acted out their characters. The violin was a parallel to their movements; it was harsh and speedy.

Rosette was being defended by Prince Jacque when she failed to see a flash of iron drawing closer towards her, for she focused on the other direction.

She felt the cold iron pierce the hem of her dress. A shudder goes through her.

Swords clashed with sword. Prince Vante gripped furiously onto the hilt of his weapon, glaring at the knight who could've killed her if he didn't intervene and got the timing right. He motioned the maiden to escape and she did her best to glide away as though she was a swan landing on peaceful waters.

The onlookers continued to cheer, oblivious to what actually occurred. She could smell grape wine and fresh blood. She was unharmed, yet someone else might've been scarred after all the slashing.

She reached out a hand to Prince Agustus.

He caught it.

But then she was stunned at the words he said next.

"Tayden, protect her."

And she was passed on. Rosette was shoved towards the fifth-born and he swiftly held her tight. Her cheeks were madly red. Her body went hot. His warmth was so nostalgic and tempting. Although she desired not to, she dramatically threw her arms around his neck for the sake of the public display. The crowd loved it, hooting louder.

The music faded gently. A piano accompaniment joined in.

Memories of them replayed. They gazed into each other's surprised eyes.

Prince Agustus watched over them like a guardian, glad to see the stars twinkle in the maiden's perennial irises again.

But his heart wrenched a little.

He tried to ignore it and transferred the sting to his sword, hurling it at the enemy heading towards her and his brother. This must be his role. He must give her a happy ending.

Even if he wasn't a part of it.

A sigh left Prince Tayden's lips. He was still awkward with her. "Cling onto me."

Bashfully, she did. Upon the prince's instructions, they appeared to be like they were lovers twirling around a deep forest, unmindful of the blades chasing after them. He guided her hands on his body. She allowed him to embrace her as they evaded the offenders.

She yearned for this.

The audience was excited.

Minutes flew by and Sir Brunor was the last one standing.

"Here." Prince Agustus put out his sword for the maiden to use without looking at her. "Befitting for a damsel, but not in distress."

Rosette stared at it for a while.

The ballroom was engulfed in silence.

When she took the weapon, she drew a lopsided grin. "Thanks."

Everyone gasped once she pointed it at the knight. He was just as baffled as they were. He was floundering for a response while he backpedalled yet nothing came out. This was the second time he met a woman wielding a weapon. Still, it felt like his first.

King Eldred was furious. However, all he could do was sit there and watch.

"Will you really let him make you his puppet?" her volume was low so that they were the only ones who can hear it.

Sir Brunor blinked at her, astounded.

That was when he realized why the king wanted her dead.

It was because she had created a revelation to a revolution, because she chose to represent the people and go against him.

She reminded him of Sir Parcival: always risking for what was right.

He should follow her example. He was a knight after all. He should be ashamed.

Sir Brunor smiled at the maiden, dropping his sword. "You earned my respect."

The moment Rosette swung the blade forward, he pretended to be hit, falling to the floor in defeat.

And the sword dance ended.

Everyone applauded, especially the court ladies. To them, she was an inspiration. Once they become mothers, they will gain strength to tell stories of women slaying the beast, of princesses that didn't need a knight. Their children will learn and it will be their hope that carries on in history's pages. To them, she was a glimpse of the future.

The maiden glanced at her friends. Her smile was beautiful. She lived to see the dawn.

Somehow, the king really did keep his word.

Briar Rosette shined the brightest tonight.

Rosette's POV

Welp, I made it.

I gazed out my window, blankly observing how the clouds float up in the sky while wondering if cupping them with my hands would be possible.

I tugged on the sleeves of my nightgown. Everything felt like a dream. Those masks, those drinks, those knights...

Lowering my gaze, I saw Prince Tayden doing a casual stroll below. He was still in his masquerade attire, excluding the mask. What could he be doing at this hour? He should be tired. He should be asleep.

It's kind of unfamiliar to see him over there and not here beside me. It's kind of lonely.

Crap. He caught me staring.

"Fine, it's now or never." I said under a breath.

I attempted a timid wave.

He looked up at me for a while, his expression unreadable. I wanted him to wave back at least.

But all I got in return was him walking away.

My heart hurts.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. I automatically grappled for Aculeus, my arrow already targeted at the person from the outside. I should never let my guard down until the due date of my fated fall. There will be all sorts of situations that can unexpectedly lead me to my imminent doom.

"Who is it?" I asked, narrowing my eyes.

"Agust D." The person replied.

Oh.

I snorted. That's a cool nickname for an 18th-century guy. My muscles relaxed. I had enough drama for today. "Come in."

Prince Agustus entered the room. With fast observation skills, he noticed that I was holding onto my bow before I could place it to its original spot in the corner by my desk.

He crossed his arms. "You had intentions to shoot me?"

I shrugged. "You've been throwing knives at me since my first month at the palace so..."

"That is fair." He chuckled, leaning onto the doorframe. The brat actually looks handsome whenever he does that. "Why were you crying?"

I was at a standstill.

It was too late for me to make an excuse when he was inches far from my face. I could feel his breath as his fingers traced my tear-stained skin. He was wiping them off for me. I stared at him, taken aback.

"Did he make you cry again?" he murmured, treating me with gentle caution.

I opened my mouth to answer, but he shook his head, perhaps knowing that I wouldn't be truthful.

"Let's not talk about this." Prince Agustus said, dragging me to the door. I could've stood my ground, yet I let him be. "I'm here for a different reason. Lend me an hour, no, thirty minutes will do."

"Where are we going? I'm in my nightdress, you know."

"And I'm in my nightshirt."

I couldn't help but giggle, my mood getting better. He effortlessly lightened up the atmosphere. I guess there's no harm done in midnight expeditions. It could be fun.

"Alright, lead the way."

We exited my bedroom.

The hallways were hushed. Prince Tayden must be lurking around, but I didn't want to see him, not after his reaction towards my friendly gesture. He probably doesn't want to see me as well.

Okay. Stop thinking about him.

I controlled the sound of my sandals to avoid causing a disturbance. The prince ahead of me was an expert. He wasn't making any noise at all.

"We're here."

Except for that.

I looked around, eyes widening. The images that could've been mistaken as a dream by morning rewinded in my mind. Although the banquet tables have been cleared and the tiles have been brushed clean, the faint scent of food and liquor was still detectable.

"The ballroom?" my voice reverberated throughout the walls. "Why would we be—"

I rotated to see Prince Agustus bowing down, his hand outstretched.

"I never got to dance with you." He mumbled. His ears were beet red.

To muffle an awweeee, I put a hand on my mouth. Who would've thought that the dauntless Prince Agustus Dane can act like a meek kitten when asking a girl for a dance?

He's literally speaking in tiny!

Should I tease him?

I playfully grinned, my posture dominant. "And if I reject you?"

He didn't respond for several seconds.

"What I want, I get."

I smirked. "When you say that, it makes me want to defy you even more."

The prince smiled, standing proper. His hand remained the same. "This is why I used to loathe you."

Used to. Those two words repeated like an echo.

The ends of my lips curled upward as I accepted his hand, the heat of our touch becoming one. He seemed relieved and delicately pulled me closer. We waltzed across the empty ballroom. There were no swords coming at us, no king that watches from a throne, no audience that mocks me at a wrong step. I was satisfied with the quiet.

It was simple and sincere.

After a slow twirl, Prince Agustus tenderly pushed my head onto his chest, having me hear his heartbeat as he wrapped his arms around my body. He was showing me how human he was, how honest he can be. I closed my eyes, focusing on the pitter-patter.

His heart was thumping fast.

My heart might be, too.

Now my masquerade ball has truly come to an end.

A/N: This has been the longest chapter among all the chapters so far! I hope this wasn't boring to read >///<

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