Merrick put on his best face for the masquerade ball. His mother had gone to great lengths to plan this lavish event, and he certainly did not want to disappoint her or his father. All the ladies were dressed to the nines in colorful, ornate ball gowns, while the gentlemen wore their tailcoats and top hats. But it was the masks that lent just the right air of mystery to the occasion. The white-gilded disguise matched Merrick’s waistcoat piping and allowed him to hide some of his uglier emotions while acting as the perfect royal host to those in attendance.

The theme of the celebration was the winter solstice, marking Evergreen’s longer days in the sun in a most dramatic fashion. And though the ice sculptures in addition to the white, silver, and gold decorations lent an air of magic, it was also quite refreshing that his mother had included colorful flowers in the mix, blooming in the center of each dinner table. Though it was mostly winter in Evergreen, the few weeks of the year when there was less chill in the air always brightened the view of the countryside as well as the mood of Evergreen’s residents, and the ball felt much the same—like an invigorating haven from the storm.

When Merrick looked at the ball in those terms, he could almost ignore the raging tempest brewing inside his chest every time he thought of Cassius dressing him and sacrificing his own happiness by encouraging him to perform his royal duties. Merrick certainly felt on display this evening since everyone in attendance understood the main purpose of such an event: finding the prince of Evergreen a future princess to marry and produce an heir with. He felt like a calf at a trade show. Or on its way to the slaughter.

Still, he worked the room as he knew was expected of him, stopping to speak to the groups of ladies in attendance. Some of them were trying a bit too hard to garner his attention, with dramatic gestures or theatrical stories seeming to highlight their talents or good standing. But there were also several understated women, who were quite pleasant and interesting, and he found himself mostly drawn to them because they did not put on any airs; it was as if they understood that attraction was biological, and chemistry should be natural, and that it was certainly a two-way street. Not only would he have to tolerate his new bride for a lifetime, but she in turn would need to endure him and his obligations to the country as well. It wasn’t such an easy venture unless there was some way you could make a genuine connection.

“Merrick, I would like you to meet…” His mother had uttered the phrase at least a dozen different times that evening before she’d swoop in and drag him away to another group of debutantes or society ladies she had invited with the sole purpose of persuading him to take a bride.

When he came upon Lady Penelope standing in the corner of the room with her parents, it was almost a relief. She was at least a familiar face in the crowd, and he had shared a couple of pleasant evenings in her company. She seemed to perk up when he approached, and as they spoke politely, he found himself noticing how lovely the line of her neck was as well as the sound of her voice. Maybe he had not given her enough of a chance early on. Perhaps she might be the one he would ask to dance with first.

By the time dinner was announced, he had exhausted himself with effort and worry. Thankfully, he was seated beside Marjorie and Charles and across from his parents, so he felt as if he could momentarily let down his guard. The harp musicians his mother had hired were a welcome distraction as well, the mellow notes somewhat settling the storm inside his chest.

“You sure know how to draw a crowd,” Charles joked, and Merrick appreciated the humor he offered right then.

They spoke of everyday things throughout the lighter dinner fare even though Merrick could barely stomach any of it. Charles held his sister’s hand often during the meal, and they seemed so well-matched that he felt a flicker of joy for them even as despair took hold.

When Charles was drawn into a conversation by his mother, Mrs. Godfrey, who was seated on the other side of Charles, Marjorie leaned toward Merrick. “Earlier this evening, Charles requested I meet him alone in the parlor, where he asked for my hand in marriage.”

Heart squeezing, Merrick reached for his sister’s smaller hand. He had held it many times during other important events in their lives. “Congratulations.”

“Thank you.” She beamed, then lowered her voice. “But we do not want to overshadow this event. We’ll plan another time for our own announcement and celebration.”

After dessert, the guests began rising as some tables were cleared to make room on the dance floor. Merrick felt the cold punch of dread in his gut. This was it. He needed to dance with somebody. His first choice did not necessarily guarantee anything, only that the lady might have captured the prince’s attention the most this evening.

As he glanced around the ballroom, he felt uncomfortable for the ladies in attendance as well. The tradition seemed so antiquated and banal that he planned to eliminate it at once if he ever became king. In fact, many other things could stand to change as well.

On unsteady legs, he stood with the rest of his family and positioned his mask back into place. It added the extra layer he needed to cover his onslaught of emotions.

His mother smiled warmly at him. “I hope your evening has been lovely thus far.”

“The decorations are wonderful, the attendees charming. It seems everyone is enjoying themselves,” he said, trying his best not to break down in either misery or fury. He knew his parents meant well. Besides, they had no idea he’d been fighting his nature at every turn just to please them and uphold his responsibility to the monarchy. He thought he might possibly faint from the sheer effort it took to hold himself together with every fiber of his being.

“It is time to partake in the dancing portion,” his mother reminded him as if he hadn’t been dreading it for weeks.

“Everyone is anticipating who you might ask to dance,” his father added with a chuckle. “Even your own parents.”

A shiver trickled down Merrick’s spine. “What if there is no one I—”

“There must be one person you have enjoyed meeting this evening,” his father replied in a stern voice, and all the pressure built to a crescendo in his chest again. He almost felt like that same five-year-old his father had persuaded to ride the Ferris wheel at the Pinewood carnival, convinced he’d like it if he only tried it.

“Just follow your heart,” his mother added with a pat on his shoulder, and it set his teeth on edge. If he could have what his heart desired, he wouldn’t be in this mess to begin with.

As nearly all the guests began lining up near the dance floor, the tension in the room grew thick with anticipation. Nobody would dare step on the floor until a member of the royal family danced first, and tonight all eyes were pinned on him.

When he noticed Penelope hesitantly make her way to the edge, he again considered asking her. But unless he was certain of his decision, that would be unkind. In some ways, they were in the same boat. Neither wanted to appear too eager or send the wrong message.

“Look who has arrived just in time for the first dance,” Marjorie said breathlessly. There was an air of awe in her voice, along with something else—anticipation perhaps, and quite possibly hope.

As Merrick’s gaze followed her line of sight, his legs nearly buckled beneath him. He held on to the edge of the table to steady himself.

It was Cas. Wearing finely tailored golden knickers and a lavish purple waistcoat, complete with a cape affixed at his neck with a golden brooch.

Cas. With soft, dark tresses framing his shoulders and a bronze-gilded mask firmly in place. His lips plump as if he’d been biting on them.

And it was as if a spotlight shone on him from somewhere above and he became the most stunning, profoundly important person in the room.

Cas’s gaze met Merrick’s across the room and then flitted away as his cheeks flushed a gorgeous crimson color.

Please keep your eyes on me, Cas. I need your warm gaze, or I might perish on the spot. You have become my oxygen, the very air I breathe.

“Have you required your valet to be in attendance at the ball?” his mother asked in a puzzled voice. It was essential for all staff to pitch in behind the scenes for such a large event.

“I extended him the invitation,” Marjorie replied in a bold voice, and Merrick’s mouth went dry. When her eyes met his they softened, and his pulse pitched sharply.

What had she done?

“It is his right to be here, same as the others,” Marjorie remarked, and he shut his eyes to steady his pulse.

“His right?” their father asked. “Whatever do you mean?”

But their voices faded in the background as Merrick moved across the dance floor. He could not possibly keep away from greeting his valet. His Cas. It seemed the only place in the room where he actually belonged. The only place that generated warmth.

Merrick strode past a line of ladies waiting, ignoring each of them as he heard the low muttering of voices as he went. Disappointment, anticipation. It seemed the whole room watched him, and he couldn’t care less. He drew strength from Cas. Courage. Light.

He could not possibly take his eyes off the beautiful creature standing before him. The man made his breath hitch, his heart thrash, his very soul ache with longing.

“You look stunning,” Merrick said in a breathless whisper. He wanted to reach for his hand, kiss his cheek, lead him somewhere private. But they weren’t in private. They were in a crowded room of people who were mostly there to meet him. To impress him.

But Cas was the only person in the world who astounded him. Electrified him. He wanted nothing to do with anyone else at the ball, and it could not have become clearer to him than in that moment.

“Thank you,” Cassius replied with some anguish in his voice. “I am sorry to show up like this. Princess Marjorie—she lent me these clothes and insisted—”

“It only matters that you are here now,” he said, feeling a wave of gratitude for his sister. “Thank you for being here.”

Cas looked somewhat confused, and as his gaze darted side to side, his cheeks darkened with mortification that their exchange had become the center of the crowd’s attention.

“Merrick, it is time for the first dance,” he heard his mother’s faltering voice behind him. “Your guests are waiting.”

“Yes, Mother,” Merrick replied, his gaze never leaving his valet’s warm honey-colored eyes.

Cassius took a hesitant step back into the crowd, disappointment and sorrow briefly flickering in his eyes. He also managed a small smile, most likely to offer Merrick encouragement once again.

He noticed how Cas looked behind him to the open terrace doors as if considering the quickest route for his exit. But no, that would not do. He did not want him to leave. He needed him to stay. He needed it like he needed his next breath.

Merrick turned to gaze at his mother. “You said to follow my heart?”

“Yes, of course,” she replied cautiously, her gaze swinging wildly around the room. It was the first time he’d seen discomfort in her posture all night. But he could not worry about pleasing her right then. If he did, his whole world might crumble.

“Very well,” he replied with a deep bow.

He inhaled a fortifying breath before he turned and stepped toward Cassius once again. His entire body shuddered, his skin itched, but his heart absolutely soared.

He stretched his hand toward the man he loved. “May I have this dance?”

A hush immediately fell on the room. The participants around them became completely motionless, eyes wide and gawking. In his peripheral vision, he noticed some women with hands clasped over their mouths, as well as Lady Penelope with her head tilted curiously and the smallest quirk to her lips that might be interpreted as a smile. Behind him somewhere, he heard a gasp escape his mother’s lips.

He knew his actions would be considered a disgrace, but nothing else in the world made any bit of sense except this. Merrick and Cas. A prince who had found his own prince.

Cas’s eyes were wide and assessing. Fear lanced through them. “Wh…what are you doing, M—Your Highness?”

Merrick’s face fell, his stomach plummeting when Cassius did not use his birth name. He saw the confusion, the overwhelming panic in Cas’s gaze.

“I would like to dance with the one person in the room who has come to matter most to me,” he replied, squaring his shoulders once again, his hand still held suspended for the taking.

Cassius leaned toward him, his breaths rapidly expending from his lips, his chest heaving almost violently. “You cannot throw everything away, Merrick. I cannot allow you to do such a thing.”

His valet retreated immediately, stepping backward as the guests provided him a wide berth like the parting of the sea. Cassius’s eyes grew glassy, filling with unshed tears as he gazed at his prince one final time before fleeing the room.

Merrick’s heart dropped like a stone to his stomach. It felt as if an enormous hole was gaping in his chest. As if someone had unplugged the sun and dismantled the moon and all that remained was a colossal iceberg where his soul had once been.

“Attention, everyone,” he heard his sister’s thick voice behind him along with three claps. “Charles and I have an announcement to make.” All eyes turned toward the center of the dance floor. “And afterward, we would like the honor of the first dance.”

As the attendees tittered excitedly and moved toward the edge of the dance floor, Merrick exhaled harshly. He owed his sister everything.

Merrick moved away from the guests and toward the terrace doors, where Cassius had made his escape, hoping it was only a dream and he would see his love waiting for him.

But as the cool air hit his skin, he only saw the vast forest before him and heard the whistling wind through the trees. He felt hollow once again.

A rectangular object on the stairs caught his attention, and he bent to pick it up. It was Cassius’s notebook, flipped open to the very last page. His gaze greedily drank in the sentences written by his lover’s hand.

Once upon a time there was an exquisite prince

Who filled my wintry soul with all the colors of spring

He became my day, my night, my sun, my moon

My heart, my soul, my very bones

My Ever After

Merrick hugged the notebook to his chest and allowed the tears to come.