Chapter 1 - The Mask

In the heart of Willowbrook, amidst the enchanting beauty of the springtime wonderland, the grand masquerade ball unfolded like a scene from a fairy tale. Ariana Ravenshadow, the king's eldest daughter, stood at the threshold of the ballroom, her heart aflutter with anticipation as she prepared to make her grand entrance.

The ballroom doors swung open with a flourish, revealing a sight that took Ariana's breath away. The room was aglow with the soft flicker of candlelight and the shimmer of crystal chandeliers, casting a warm and inviting glow over the assembled guests.

As Ariana stepped into the ballroom, her gown of azure silk trailing behind her like a river of moonlight, all eyes turned to behold her beauty. She wore a delicate mask adorned with intricate lace, concealing her identity in an aura of mystery and intrigue.

Ariana's parents, King Alaric and Queen Isadora, greeted her with smiles of pride and affection as she approached the dais where they sat in regal splendour. The king, resplendent in his royal attire, nodded approvingly at his daughter's appearance, while the queen's eyes sparkled with maternal warmth.

"My dear Ariana, you look absolutely radiant," the queen exclaimed, her voice filled with admiration. "You are truly the jewel of Willowbrook."

Ariana curtsied gracefully before her parents, her heart swelling with gratitude and love. "Thank you, Mother, Father," she replied, her voice tinged with excitement. "It is an honour to be here on this special evening."

As Ariana mingled with the guests, she found herself drawn to Lady Amara, a close friend of hers known for her wit and charm. Lady Amara greeted her with a warm smile, her eyes twinkling with mischief as she took in Ariana's elegant attire.

Lady Amara's hair, a cascade of ebony curls, fell in loose waves around her pointed elven ears, and down past her shoulders, framing her heart-shaped face with a touch of softness and allure. Her eyes, the colour of midnight, sparkled with intelligence and mischief, hinting at depths of wisdom and wit hidden beneath their depths.

Ariana saw Lady Amara approaching and smiled, her smile was warm and genuine, lighting up her features with a radiant glow. Her 6-inch stiletto shoes clinked with ever step she took, turning all the heads in her wake. She exuded an aura of warmth and charm that drew others to her like moths to a flame, her presence filling the room with a sense of joy and excitement and arousal.

"Ariana, you look positively enchanting tonight," Lady Amara exclaimed, her voice filled with genuine admiration. "I must say that gown suits you perfectly."

Ariana returned Lady Amara's smile, feeling a sense of warmth and camaraderie in her presence. "Thank you, Amara," she replied, her tone affectionate. "You look stunning as always. How have you been?"

Lady Amara laughed, a musical sound that echoed through the ballroom like a melody. "Oh, you know how it is, my dear," she replied, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Caught up in the whirlwind of courtly affairs and endless gossip. But enough about me, tell me, how are you faring amidst the chaos of court life?"

Knowing all too well the whirlwind of affairs ended up having a male courtier landing on his arse in the middle of the foyer two days prior, attempting to seduce Lady Amara and him not realizing that Amara knew he was married.

Amara did not want to the court to see her as Lady whore of Willowbrook.

Ariana sighed; her expression tinged with weariness. "It has been...challenging, to say the least," she admitted, her voice tinged with uncertainty. "With the upcoming betrothal to Lester, there are many expectations placed upon me, and I fear I may not be ready for what lies ahead."

Lady Amara placed a comforting hand on Ariana's face, her touch gentle and reassuring. "You are stronger than you realize," she said, her voice filled with conviction. "You have a kind heart and a fierce spirit, don't put up with any of that bullshit prince prick – a – lot does. "Amara said with a laugh. "Be yourself, and if you can't be that, at least try not to trip over your own gown like last year. We wouldn't want any more embarrassing masquerade mishaps now, would we"

Ariana recalled the evening quite well, she had a few glasses of red wine and went to approach a prince, not only did she trip over her gown she landed on her arse in front of the prince.

Ariana laughed at memory and was uplifted by Lady Amara's words of encouragement. "Thank you, Amara," she said, her voice filled with gratitude. "You always no the right things to say"

Lady Amara clasped Ariana's hand and said, "I see a lovely princeling by the fountain that I could spend the night with, I'll see you tomorrow morning bright and early for the horse showing!"

And with that Amara picked up her skirts and graciously walked over to the princeling without a look back.

The grand masquerade ball was in full swing, the ballroom filled with nobles and courtiers adorned in elaborate costumes and glittering masks. Ariana had been to many of these in her 20 years. She knew how to dress, what to say and when to be quiet. As she walked through the ballroom her resplendent gown of midnight blue, moved gracefully through the crowd, her heart aflutter with excitement and anticipation. Her long blonde hair pinned back behind her pointed ears and her sharp indigo eyes assessing the guests and when she could slip away for a moment of quiet on the balcony overlooking the botanic gardens. 

As she mingled with the guests on her way to the balcony, Ariana caught sight of Lester, her betrothed, across the room. His mask askew and his movements unsteady, he stumbled through the crowd with a jug of wine in hand, his laughter loud and boisterous.

Ariana's heart sank as she watched in horror, realizing that Lester was already deep in his cups. She approached him cautiously, her steps guided by concern and apprehension.

"Lester, please," she pleaded, her voice tinged with embarrassment. "You've had enough to drink. Let me escort you to your chambers."

But Lester paid her no heed, his attention fixed on a group of laughing courtiers nearby. With a raucous shout, he raised his flagon high, sloshing wine onto the floor as he stumbled forward.

"Look, everyone!" he exclaimed, his voice slurred and thick with intoxication. "It's my lovely betrothed, Ariana! Isn't she just the most beautiful woman in the kingdom?"

Ariana's cheeks burned with humiliation as all eyes turned to behold her. She tried to smile politely, to play along with Lester's drunken antics, but it was no use. The courtiers exchanged knowing glances and stifled laughter, their amusement at her expense evident for all to see.

"Come now, Lester," Ariana said through gritted teeth, her voice strained with frustration. "Let us retire for the evening. You've had enough revelry for one night."

But Lester paid her no mind, lost in his own world of merriment and folly. With a careless laugh, he grabbed her tight around her waist and yelled "Nonsense! We are going to dance!" the ballroom fell quiet; all eyes were on Ariana she could hear the whispers "she is betrothed to a drunk!". She was being pulled onto the dance floor by Lester. 

He grabbed her by the waist again and start to move, he was incredibly drunk Ariana had realized at this point. Clumsy and stepping on her feet – Ariana shouted "Stop!", Lester kept twirling her around, stepping on her dress and feet and twirling.

Ariana yelled again "Stop!" Lester stopped and said, "Well if you won't dance with me I'll get one of these courtiers to do so!" 

"Is this how it will be in our marriage!" Ariana screamed "I don't want to want to participate in an activity, you'll find a filthy whore to fill my place!".

A cracking sound filled the ballroom, gasps and a scream went through the room.

Ariana was on the floor with a burning cheek. She looked up to see Amara seething and started coming toward her.

Black boots stepped into her vision and hands were under her shoulders and legs in an instant.

"Brother, I see apples don't fall far from the tree."

Lester huffed and said, "Your no better Tristan, you're a disgrace to our family."

"At least I have the decency to remain sober at a winter solstice event and not humiliate my bride!"

Tristan's grip tightened around Ariana's shoulders as he shot a steely glare at his brother. "Ariana deserves better than you," he said, his voice dripping with disdain. "She deserves a man who will treat her with respect and dignity, not one who wallows in his own debauchery."

Lester's face flushed with anger, his fists clenching at his sides. "You dare to speak to me in such a manner?" he spat, his words slurred with drink. "You, who have always been the favoured son, the golden boy of the IronCrest court. You think you're so superior, don't you?"

Tristan's jaw tightened, but he remained steadfast in his resolve. "I don't claim to be perfect, Lester," he replied evenly. "But I won't stand idly by while you make a mockery of everything our family stands for."

Ariana watched in silence, her heart heavy with sorrow and indignation. She had hoped tonight would be a celebration of love and unity, but instead, it had descended into chaos and discord. And at the centre of it all stood the the man who she was to spend the rest of her life with, the Prince of IronCrest.

As the tension between Tristan and Lester reached its breaking point, Ariana struggled to escape Tristan iron grip, her heart pounded with a mixture of fear and relief as she watched her father's imposing figure cut through the throng of guests. With a determined stride, he reached Ariana's side, his expression a mask of stern authority.

"Tristan, release her immediately," the king commanded, his voice resonating with power. "Ariana, come with me."

Tristan hesitated for a moment, his grip loosening on Ariana's shoulders. She seized the opportunity to slip out of his grasp, her eyes never leaving her father's reassuring gaze.

As Ariana followed her father through the crowd, she could feel the weight of their collective stares bearing down on her. Whispers rippled through the room like a gathering storm, but she paid them no mind. All that mattered was escaping the chaos and finding solace in her father's presence.

Once they were safely ensconced in a quiet alcove away from prying eyes, the king turned to Ariana, his expression softened with concern. "Are you alright, my dear?" he asked, his voice filled with genuine worry.

Ariana nodded, her throat tight with emotion. "Yes, Father," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'm fine. But what happened out there? Why did Tristan..."

The king's jaw tightened with frustration, his gaze flickering with anger. "Tristan was only trying to protect you, Ariana," he said, his tone grave. "Lester's behaviour was unacceptable, and I will deal with him accordingly."

Ariana felt a surge of gratitude towards Tristan, despite the tension that had arisen between them. She knew that he had risked his own reputation and safety to come to her aid, and she would be forever grateful.

As the king ushered Ariana away from the chaos of the ballroom, she couldn't shake the feeling of uncertainty that lingered in the air. The events of the evening had irrevocably altered the course of her life with Prince Lester, and she could only hope that she had the strength to face whatever challenges lay ahead.