Cedric Valtoris

The grand ballroom of Avindor gleamed with regal splendor. Chandeliers cast warm light over the swirling gowns and polished armor of nobility, while the orchestra played a lively waltz that fueled the energy of the room. Prince Cedric Valtoris stood at the heart of it all, surrounded by women competing for his attention. They came at him from all sides—smiling, preening, and showering him with compliments. Some praised his intelligence and strength, their words dripping with insincerity. Others spoke boldly of their loyalty to the crown, their ambitions thinly veiled. A few giggled and fluttered their lashes, hoping to charm him with flirtation. Cedric felt suffocated. He saw through them all: women who coveted his power, others who sought wealth, and a few who simply desired the prestige of being queen. Their desperation, masked by elegance, left him cold. He regarded them with detached disdain, his patience thinning with every hollow word. Then, his attention caught on someone different. By the far window, away from the crowd, stood a young woman. The moonlight spilling through the glass framed her figure, highlighting the simplicity of her attire—a gown elegant yet modest compared to the glittering extravagance around her. She wasn’t vying for his attention or trying to blend into the throng. She simply stood, watching the ball unfold with quiet detachment. As if sensing his gaze, she turned her head, meeting his eyes. Her expression was calm, her eyes steady and unreadable. There was no nervousness, no flattery, no desperate attempt to gain his favor. She offered him a small nod of polite respect before turning her gaze elsewhere as if he were of no particular importance. Cedric’s brow furrowed. She was either indifferent to him or playing a clever game. He couldn’t decide which intrigued him more. For the first time that evening, he felt something stir beyond irritation—a flicker of curiosity.