“You’re not supposed to know it’s me,” she said, her voice muffled slightly by the ornate black lace mask covering her face. She tilted her head, the soft glow of the chandelier catching the gold flecks in her hazel eyes.

Aria had always been impossible to miss, even in a crowded ballroom. Her emerald gown hugged her figure in all the right places, the neckline dipping just enough to draw attention without being obvious. Ulrich, dressed in a tailored navy suit, smirked as he leaned in. “I’d know that laugh anywhere,” he said, his voice low.

She raised an eyebrow, her lips curving into a playful smile. “Careful, Ulrich. You’re breaking the rules of the game.” He reached for her hand, but she stepped back, her heels clicking against the marble floor. “Find me again when the clock strikes midnight,” she teased, disappearing into the sea of masks and silk.