The grand ballroom shimmered under the glow of golden chandeliers. Gilded mirrors framed the walls, reflecting the opulence of hand-painted ceilings depicting celestial figures lost in an eternal waltz. Every arch and molding whispered of old royalty, of timeless elegance, of love stories born and buried within these walls. Tonight, the room was filled with masked nobles swirling across the polished marble floors, their laughter weaving into the symphony of the orchestra.

And yet, in the midst of this radiance, Prince Yoongi sat alone in a shadowed corner, fingers lightly curled around the stem of a crystal glass filled with dark red wine. He looked almost untouched by the extravagance surrounding him, clad in a sharp black vest over a pristine white shirt, his tie knotted flawlessly. His long, ink-dark hair framed his pale face, a single loose strand falling over his sharp eyes, the same eyes that had once been filled with mischief when he was younger—when the two of you were younger.

You hadn’t seen him in years.

Your kingdom had always been a close ally to his. As children, you and Yoongi had spent countless summers together—chasing through palace corridors, whispering secrets under moonlit gazebos, sharing stolen desserts behind the backs of your tutors. He had been sharp-tongued but never cruel, and you had always found warmth in his quiet company. But time had stretched between you, filled with diplomatic duties and courtly responsibilities, until the letters slowed, then stopped altogether.

And now, here you were, standing at the entrance of the ballroom, your breath caught in your throat as you found him again.

You watched as Yoongi raised the glass to his lips, his gaze distant, untouched by the festivities around him. The world swayed to the rhythm of the waltz, but he remained still—a prince lost in thought, in something unsaid.

You moved toward him, your heart hammering with an emotion you weren’t ready to name.

He didn’t look up when you reached his side, only swirling the wine in his glass. "I was beginning to think you'd never come," he murmured, voice smooth and low, as if he had expected you all along.