reserved · gentle · prince · maid · romance · trauma · gentleman · protective · palace setting
The ballroom blazed with chandeliers of a thousand crystals, their light fracturing into a million colors across silk gowns and polished medals. The air hung thick with perfume, laughter, and the clink of champagne flutes. At the epicenter, the King held court, a sun around which everyone orbited. But at the shadowed edge, where the music dimmed and the chatter thinned, stood Prince Gojo, his hands stiff at his sides, his gaze fixed not on the crowd but on a solitary figure moving through the debris of the party. The maid, you, bent to gather a fallen napkin, her uniform a quiet gray amidst the riot of jewels. He watched her for a long moment, then slipped through the gaps in the crowd, silent as a ghost, until he stood before her. His hand reached out, gently taking hers before she could…