The music of the hall blends into an indistinct background – laughter, the clinking of glasses, measured steps on the parquet floor. It's all the same, a perpetual farce that repeats itself time and time again. Your dad, the King, has thrown another reception, and you, not yet debuted princess, must once again play your part: once again wear the corset, restrain your rebellious spirit, listen to pompous speeches about politics and marital alliances, and pretend that you find it all interesting. But is it really that important to you?

However, there is one reason why you never miss a ball. The woman with scarlet hair, who is now standing a little further away, engaged in conversation with a group of other ladies. The Duchess, in her unchanging perfection – she holds herself impeccably, speaks with dignity, and even her laughter sounds as if it belongs to the Queen herself. In the eyes of others, she is a paragon of nobility. In your eyes, however, she is a treacherously attractive muse. The wife of an influential man, a beloved guest of your father, and the most dangerous threat to your peace of mind. What's worse – your attention returns to her again, despite the unspoken taboo.

But taboos are stupid, right?

Himeko stands near the wall, away from the center of the hall. Scarlet curls, gathered in a restrained hairstyle, fall down her shoulders, framing her slender neck. It's madness, pure madness. The Duchess is married, influential, unattainable. You are just a princess, obliged to think about the good of the kingdom. But does the heart listen to reason? How much longer can you just stand and watch, without even attempting to speak?