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"Yakov, who is she?" The crown prince to the Northern Kingdom asked as he swirled his glass of wine, directing the question to his trusty advisor.
"Vitya, this is a masquerade. You can't expect me to know who's under the mask."
"Don't you have a list of the palace entrees? C'mon, Yaks."
"We didn't take down the names of the '1 extra guest' that you permitted each invitee to bring. If you haven't recognized who she is by now, I'll bet she's one of them." The advisor paused, pulling an irritated look, "-and I specifically told you not to refer to me in any stupid nicknames."
"Well then, ask the guards if they remember who she came with."
"Vitya," he drawled, narrowing his eyes at the prince.
"Please?"
Yakov pursed his lips before sighing, a swift exchange of words with a butler to deliver his highness' request. The butler nodded in response, quickly veering towards the ballroom exit.
"Though, I suggest not minding the invitees' guests and actually mingling with the invitees themselves," he said bitterly, thinning his lips. "Why don't you go chat with Princess Plisetsky?" He suggested, cocking his head to the young blonde, currently chatting with Duke Altin. "This masquerade of yours is your last shot on freely choosing your bride before your father arranges one for you."
"Plisetsky has feelings for Altin and you know it," Viktor scoffed. "Besides, I see her as a sister," he laughs, "Perhaps even like my daughter."
"One word from you and we could have Atin and Plisetsky separate-"
"Don't. You know I don't like abusing my authority," Viktor said smoothly, tone glazed with ice.
"Fine. How about Princess Babicheva? She's good-looking, athletic and respectable. Plus, her family has good standings with the Southern Kingdom, you could implement a trading pact between our kingdom and theirs, I'm sure it'll be very beneficiary and..." Yakov continued to ramble, bringing up several advantages and disadvantages, although Viktor wasn't listening anymore.
He was too fixated on the mysterious beauty that had left him speechless a few hours ago. She was gorgeous, stunning, beautiful, salacious-- no, not even words could describe her. The ballroom went quiet as soon as she had stepped in, gracefully walking down the curled stairway. Long, black and silky locks falling down from her shoulders and striking red lips had Viktor swooning at the spot. The dark, glitter studded mask tied to her face certainly brought out the glint in her eyes complementing her pale complexion. And damn, that gown of hers would haunt Viktor till' the day he died. Black, velvety fabric that reached the floor, a frilly layer above the velvet, accentuated with rhinestones which shone under the moonlit sky. Long, semi-transparent black gloves with a collar-like choker and studded black heels nearly made the prince stagger and scream, "Step on me!"
--Which he actually would've done if Yakov hadn't stopped him earlier. Damn him for being so responsible.
Alone she stood in the corner of the room, currently downing her fourth glass of champagne. She looked solemnly down onto the palace gardens with curiosity in those chestnut eyes of hers, drumming her fingers on the ledge from time to time. Absolutely stunning, Viktor thought. He took a fancy to her this early in the night, and he was getting quite worried as she was now heading back to the tables for another round of champagne.
"Vitya!" He was brought back to reality by Yakov, standing beside the butler from awhile ago. "The guards said she came in with Prince Chulanont, claiming to be an old friend of his."
"Phichit, huh?" Viktor hummed as he tapped his chin. "We're on good terms with his kingdom, aren't we?"
"The Eastern?" Yakov clarified, "Yes, we have a set deal with them for next month."
"Excellent," Viktor grinned. "Double our side of the trade, Yaks. Tell them it's a personal gift from me."
"As you wish," he obliged, grumbling some incoherent afterthoughts.
Viktor beamed, making his way down the podium, searching for the stunning fatale as he tried his best to ignore the excited giggles of the women as he walked past. Shooting them a quick customary smile, he cringed as he heard several squeals from behind. God, it was such a chore to do that every damn time.
Reaching the spot that the lovely Jane Doe had been previously standing at, Viktor frowned, as she was nowhere to be found. He clicked his tongue as he heard the music slowly start to play, the timing should've been perfect! Scanning his eyes around the room, he failed to exact her location, ballroom flooded with waltzing couples. Sighing, he leaned down onto the ledge, eyeing the gazebo which stood in the middle of the palace garden below.
Aha, there she was.
Standing amidst all the greenery, her black gown seemed to be out of place. Viktor's breath hitched as he spotted her waltz softly to the music being played, gracefully enrapturing the prince with her steps. Closing her eyes to the rhythm, she moved her arms tactfully, matching the mellow beat of the song as she swayed herself in such a manner that- "Wow." She had tried doing a jump, falling onto the ground spectacularly. Viktor chuckled, it seems like she wasn't used to dancing in heels. Quickly, he made his way down the stairs, to the garden, hoping to catch her before the next song started.
Viktor approached with caution, stopping to tighten the mask around his face. Still sitting on the ground, she probably hadn't noticed his presence yet. "Aaah, I'm sick of these stupid heels," she grumbled all of a sudden, tossing off her footwear. "Mmm," she hummed happily, letting herself slump flat onto the well-trimmed grass, gazing silently at the sky.
It stayed like this for awhile, mainly because Viktor was too immersed in observing this girl, how the wind blew her hair gently across her face, how her eyes twinkled ever so brightly, seeming so relaxed and at peace. It almost seemed like a sin to disturb, but this wasn't going anywhere.
"Need any help?" Viktor hesitantly offered, breaking the silence as he stretched out a hand. The girl jolted upwards, rather shocked at the disturbance. "A-ah. No, thank you," a tender, yet passionate voice came out, soothing aphrodisiac to Viktor's ears. She slowly stood up, steadying herself on her bare feet, patting off the dust on her gown. Viktor chuckled, "Well then."
"B-but thank you for the gesture!" She added haphazardly, looking up at him. "I didn't take it as an insult," the prince smiled back at her. "Mmm.." she hummed softly, distancing herself from the man.
"Um... In all due respect, what is Prince Nikiforov doing here?" She asked, tilting her head to the side. "Nothing specifically, just wandering around," Viktor lied through his teeth, covering it up with the usual mega-watt smile.
"How'd you know it was me?" He added, "I still have the mask on, right?" The girl nodded, laughing softly when Viktor frantically reached up to touch his face, double-checking for the mask. "It is, but those silver strands of yours are quite famous, Your Highness," she said light-heartedly.
"Are they now?" He asked.
"They are, Your Highness."
Viktor frowned, "Stop adding 'Your Highness' to everything, will you? Just call me Viktor."
The girl flushed, "I wouldn't dare. It's disrespect!"
He scoffed, "To me, 'Your Highness' is a disrespect."
"Sure?"
"Is the sky blue?"
She bit her lip, "Okay."
"Good," he beamed.
"But, technically, the sky is black right now," she added playfully, stifling a small giggle.
"You tease."
Viktor froze as he heard an Italian opera that he was particularly well-versed in, begin playing in the ballroom, the music drifting out into the gardens. He grinned, grabbing the girl's hand. "May I have this dance?" he asked.
"Sure, V-Viktor.." she stuttered, face flushing quickly.
He smiled as he placed his hand on her waist, feeling a trembling hand softly grip his shoulder. He grinned, "Relax a bit, will you? You were dancing just fine awhile ago," he paused, "Well, before you tripped." She blushed yet again, "Y-You saw that?" Viktor laughed, nodding his head. "I sure did," he said in such a fond and sickly sweet way, it rivaled the chocolate fondue. "Ah, hold on," he paused, kicking off his shiny loafers. "What-" the girl began to question, quickly cut off. "Well, it's unfair if only you get to feel the grass," he chided, running a thumb over her hand. "How thoughtful of you," she smiled, her tone a mix of sarcasm and verity. "I know," he feigned arrogance, imitating a stereotypical pompous aristocrat, earning him yet another melodious giggle.
"Now, let's go," he said eagerly, giving her hand a quick squeeze, swaying along to the music. "Whoa!" She exclaimed as Viktor suddenly gripped her by the waist, hoisting her up in a graceful manner, spinning around lightly. Landing back on the floor, she returned the favor by dipping down, looping her hands around Viktor's neck. The prince smiled, eagerly obliging as he held the small of her back to support. "You're pretty good at this," Viktor commented. "You're not half-bad yourself."
The couple laughed in harmony, continuing to waltz under the sky, feeling the soft blades of grass tickle their feet.
~
As soon as the song ended, they broke apart, panting slightly.
"Are you okay?" She asked.
"I'm better than okay," Viktor replied.
There was a short silence, both of them unsure what to do next.
"S-so," Viktor stuttered for the first time tonight, biting his lip.
"Yes?"
"Could I see under the mask?" He asked, a debonair smile ghosting his lips.
"I mean- if you don't want to th- it's okay if you don't-"
The girl smiled, pressing a finger to the prince's lips. "It's alright," she said with an edge of laughter to her tone as she reached up to untie her mask.
Viktor felt his breath catch as the mask dropped to her palms, innocent doe eyes staring straight into his soul.
This was it.
She was the one. Whether she may be royalty or not, he was now hell-bent on making her his bride, the world be damned. God, he could already taste pining and bad decisions in his mouth, but he could also feel that this- that she would be worth it all.
"I'm Yuuri Katsuki, pleased to make your acquaintance."