Azriel Devland

In a secluded resting room, far away from the ball stood two figures.

The silence between the two of them was heavy.

Dione fiddled with the hem of her dress anxiously as she did her best to avoid the piercing gaze of the man before her.

"My Lord, I am not an art piece to be examined to your heart's content. If you have something to say then just say it." She finally blurted out, unable to take the tense and awkward atmosphere. With gathered courage, she raised her head to face him.

Her breath hitched in her throat.

She didn't notice it before but the man in front of her was absolutely gorgeous. He was perfect like a moment frozen in time - a sculpture molded by God himself. His eyes were dark and brooding, his jawline sharp and his skin smooth and free of blemishes. She even had to crane her neck up a bit to fully take him in since he towered over her with his thick and muscular build.

Finally, her eyes landed on his lips. They were plump and slightly wet and his lips curled into a small smirk that read like an open challenge.

His allure was undeniable, drawing her in like a moth to a flame. Cloaked in an air of mystery, he exuded an aura of quiet confidence that left her spellbound. This man in front of her was the embodiment of temptation, a perfect blend of allure and danger that made her heart race and her mind swirl with a mix of fascination and caution.

Azriel chuckled lowly when he noticed her amber eyes trailing him up and down. "Then am I, Your Highness?" He said in undisguised amusement.

Dione's face burned hot.

She once again avoided his gaze which seemed to be enjoying her embarrassment, "If there's nothing else then I'll be going now."

Her fingertip had only just grazed the gold door handle of the lounge room when the Duke's hand appeared in front of her, pressing against the door to prevent it from opening.

"Duke Devland..?" Princess Dione's voice was barely above a whisper. She tilted her head slightly and caught him staring at her mysteriously.

The Duke leaned over her, and with his hand resting on the door, he easily trapped her with little room to move. He was so close to her that she could clearly feel the hardness of his chest and the slight heat that his body emitted.

His breath tickled her ear, "It would be too suspicious if you went out now. Everyone believes you injured your foot. Wasn't I even forced to carry you here?"

Princess Dione's face burned as she recalled being carried out bridal style in front of everyone. She was a princess of the Salian Empire and up until a while ago she was as cherished as jade. When had someone ever had the gall to use her so blatantly?

She instantly whipped around and hit his chest with her fists, flaring up, "Who forced you to do anything of the sort?! Weren't you the one who didn't ask for my opinion and even forcibly dragged me here against my will? Don't pretend to be a victim!"

She cursed inwardly, 'What the hell? Is his chest made of rock?!"

"Hah.." The Duke's hand dragged over his face and he turned his back to her, retreating further into the resting room.

Dione's eyes narrowed as she watched his body tremble subtly. "Are you… are you laughing?!"

"Duke Devland!"

The Duke waved her off, "My apologies, Your Highness. You just remind me of a defenseless rabbit trying to hold its ground when you flare up like that. It's quite cute."

"Are you intending to mock me, Duke Devland?" Her voice tinged with irritation. Her frown deepened as she noticed his shoulders still trembling lightly as he looked back at her, suppressing his laughter.

"Not at all, Your Highness. It was merely an observation." The Duke finally calmed down and opened a small cabinet in the room. He glanced at Dione who was still standing near the door, "Would you like some tea?"

It was a well-known custom that all the lounge rooms in the palace were equipped with various teas, snacks, and refreshments. There were even the common medicines and blankets to ensure that all the guests' needs were met and well taken care of.

Though they were really intended as places for older people to rest and recuperate, the lounge rooms of the palace were notorious for the younger generation to engage in intimate activities.

Dione frowned but didn't answer. Instead, she observed the Duke carefully as he prepared the tea. He poured two cups anyways, one for her and one for him. The room smelled of chocolate and rose petals, a soft romantic scent that wafted between them.

"If you're worried about him finding you, don't be."

"I'm sorry?"

"The Marquess." The Duke clarified, taking a seat in one of the plush velvet green couches that decorated the lounge room. He took a lengthy sip of his tea before speaking again, "This specific resting room is assigned to me and no one else has access to it. Not only that but my men are stationed outside in the hall. I assure you, Your Highness, you're perfectly safe here. Sit down, relax, and enjoy your tea."

Princess Dione's eyes swept the room once again. She could easily tell at a glance that this room was different from the others, it felt more personable. While the regular rooms all stuck to the basic gold and white color scheme, this room was drowned in greens, blues, and blacks, the official colors of the Duke's Northern Territory.

She sat opposite of the Duke. "How did you know I was trying to escape the Marquess?"

"Do you mean to tell me you're into that type of man? Princess, your taste is quite heavy, isn't it?"

Dione recalled the Marquess - a short, heavyset man with a balding head, wrinkled skin, and breath that reeked of alcohol. He had been chasing after her all night, trying to get her to retreat into one of the lounge rooms with him so that he could, in his words, sneak a preview of their wedding night. Her body shivered at the thought of his meaty hands running over her body.

She shot the man in front of her a steely glare and rephrased her question, "Why did you help me, Duke?"

"Just call me Azriel."

"I'm afraid we aren't that close, My Lord. Men and women should keep their distance."

"That's true." A pause, "Princess, you asked why I went out of my way to help you in escaping the Marquess. Actually, it was merely a coincidence that we bumped into each other. But, now that I've met you, I see that we have similar predicaments and I want to offer you a proposal."

"A proposal? Like what?"

"Marry me, Princess Dione."