He thought he might be able catch Yena if he looked for her in their rooms or her studio early in the afternoon.

But the double doors of her studio were locked. He heard voices from within, and decided not to knock and disturb her.

In their bedroom, Nolan found the surprise she had left waiting for him. And a note.

Not a fancy card. Just a tiny scrap of paper pinned to the button closure on the pocket of his new suit jacket.

The suit was incredible. Nolan could hardly wait to try it on. He ran his hand along the fabric and smiled at the soft feel of it.

He pulled out the pin and the paper. Unfolded it.

Happy Birthday, the note read.

Remember. I’m Yours.

Yena

YENA

I got ready in my studio. I’d made a gown for myself to wear to the party this week, using leftover fabric from Nolan’s suit. It was a black satin dress, with an emerald silk accent that showed under a split in the skirt.

Of course, the deaconess insisted on helping me prepare for the party. Along with two other maids that I came to understand had been sent by Luna, to supervise me.

When one of them went missing at one point, it became clear that the girls were giving the queen status reports about me, too. Which was not comforting and started making me feel very self-conscious.

I focused on my hair and makeup and tried not to let my mind spiral on the topic of all the people that were about to be staring at me and Nolan all night long.

NOLAN

The prince had worn a lot of nice suits in his young life.

Custom suits. Expensive suits. Imported suits.

But this was his most favorite one he had ever put on. By far.

It fit him perfectly, and it was dripping with Yena’s signature, unique and sophisticated style.

He could not help but grin at his reflection in the mirror as he finished tying the green tie and buttoning his shirtsleeves.

The party was not yet open to most of the public, but Nolan had places to be. His mother requested he join her in her quarters before the event started.

“Your wife is going to meet you at the party,” Luna told him when he arrived to see her.

“Alright,” he replied.

She told Nolan to take a seat. One of her attendants offered him a wine glass.

“You have anything stronger up here?” he asked.

She jutted her chin at the attendant, who left the room and came back with a very old, very expensive bottle of gin.

“Just remember, son,” Luna said. “You both will be on your best behavior tonight. Correct?”

“Correct,” he answered. Making his voice very clear and serious.

“Oh,” she added. “And happy birthday.” A big smile spread across her red lips.

“Thank you.”

“On the table,” she said, widening her eyes and pointing them at the glass coffee table in front of him.

He didn’t see the little black box before.

Nolan set his glass down and retrieved it.

Inside was a pair of gold and diamond cufflinks embossed with their family crest. Antiques, carefully restored and polished to blinding brightness. As if they produced light from within them.

He vaguely remembered his father wearing cufflinks just like these, back when Nolan was a child.

“Allow me,” Luna said, standing.

Nolan took the cufflinks out of the box and handed them to her. She fastened them to his sleeves, then put one hand lightly to the center of his chest.

His mother gave him a look, then, that almost made him feel like she was about to say something kind to him.

She just smiled, though, patted his chest lightly, and said, “Good luck.”

People were approaching him from all sides the second that Nolan set foot in the ballroom. All of them talking at once, clamoring for his attention.

He gave everyone a cordial, princely smile. Shaking hands and acting so pleased and grateful to see all these strangers.

Some mechanism in the back of Nolan’s mind took over in situations like this. It pulled obscure names out of his memory, letting him impress a sporadic few lower-level public figures in any crowd by knowing who they were when he met them for the first time.

The ballroom was decked out in elaborate decorations, with gold glimmering everywhere. The floral arrangements held dark, sprawling ivy, greeny flowers, and blooming white roses.

Nolan was in work mode. He kept looking over the heads of the bustling crowd, though, scanning for a glimpse of the princess.

He finally caught sight of Yena when she made her entrance.

It would have been impossible not to notice her. A movement swept over the crowd like a wave, as they all turned their heads to see what everyone else was looking at.

Yena was a vision. She was wearing an elegant black gown with a high slit up one side of the skirt, that revealed a bottom layer in a bright green that he knew she must have made with the same fabric as his tie and pocket square.

She was wearing dark, dramatic makeup that took her from beautiful to jaw-dropping. And she looked up and met Nolan’s eyes, finding him in the crowd quickly.

She smiled at him, keeping her glossy lips closed.

The crowd parted as Nolan closed the distance between him and Yena.

He could not help himself.

He swept the princess up into his arms and kissed her passionately.

YENA

Nolan set me back on my feet gently, keeping hold of my waist. It was a good thing, because his kiss had me weak in the knees.

Outside of the two of us, all I was aware of was a blur of light and sound at the edges of my senses.

Nolan’s green eyes were glowing, highlighted by the emerald accents on his suit. Which looked even sexier on him than I had been picturing.

Finally, Nolan pulled his mouth away from mine.

He had my lipstick all over his mouth.

Good thing it wasn’t a dark shade.

I ran my finger under his bottom lip, removing a big pink smudge. He followed my cue and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

Then he bowed his head slightly, turned to the crowd, and gave them a charming, slightly embarrassed smile. He held up one hand, palm open. A curt little wave.

Everyone was cheering and applauding.

I covered my face a moment, praying it was not bright red.

Nolan tore my hand away from my cheek, lifted it to his mouth and kissed it.

Then he pulled me by the hand, out toward the dance floor, right as a golden glow lit up a stage where I now saw there was a full band set up, just starting their performance.

Nolan was a good dancer.

Of course he was. He was skilled in all the fine, fancy, high-class things. He’d been training rigorously to lead this high society, all his life.

I let him lead, finding it easier than I would have expected to follow his steps and move the way he set me up to.

Dancing with Nolan felt a little like sex. I didn’t overthink it. My body just went where his went, and it was simple.

The song ended, and Nolan dipped me low to the floor, letting me hover just inches from it before gracefully swinging me back up into his arms.

He kissed me again, but this time he didn’t get so caught up.

The band started playing a new song to a different, slower rhythm.

Nolan bowed to me and held out his hand. I slipped mine into it.

He held it up and to the side, and slid his other hand around my waist. And began a slow step that I followed.

Then Nolan put his lips to my ear.

“Yena,” he whispered, “I have to tell you something.”