The Ball of Thorns

The palace ballroom had not changed.

Golden chandeliers still hung like frozen stars above, and velvet banners lined the marble columns. The sound of string instruments swirled softly through the air — graceful, practiced, haunting.

And at the center of it all stood Prince Caelan, draped in navy and gold, crownless but regal, speaking with foreign dignitaries like a man already wearing the throne.

He hadn’t seen me yet.

Good.

I needed a moment. Just one.

A moment to remember why I was here.

To protect him.

To reject him.

To stop him from loving me again — even if my heart shattered with every lie.

---

Talia leaned toward me as we stood at the ballroom’s edge.

“My lady,” she whispered, “everyone is watching. They’re waiting for you to approach him.”

“I know.”

“And you still intend to…?”

“Distance myself,” I said calmly. “If I’m cruel, so be it. If I’m hated again, so be it.”

Talia looked down. “But will you be able to live with it again?”

I didn’t answer.

Because no.

No, I wouldn’t.

But I had already died once for loving him. I would not let him die for loving me.

---

The moment I stepped forward, the ballroom changed.

Eyes turned. Whispers began.

“Lady Rosentia…”

“She actually came?”

“Wearing silver… How ironic.”

I ignored them.

Let them whisper. Let them doubt me. Let them name me villainess again.

I walked directly into the lion’s den — toward Caelan.

He turned the instant I approached.

And smiled.

Not a courtly smile. Not a princely smile.

A real one.

The same one I remembered from snow-dusted gardens, whispered promises, and foolish dreams.

> 💗 Love Meter: +32%

No.

Not again.

“Evelyn,” he said softly. “You’re here.”

“Only because your mother summoned me,” I replied coolly.

His smile faltered. “So… it wasn’t for me?”

“Why would it be?”

Ouch.

That did it. His expression stiffened, just a little.

I needed him to believe I no longer cared. That the Evelyn he once knew had vanished.

“It’s good to see you,” he tried again, voice quieter. “You look…”

“Tired?” I offered. “Or bored, perhaps?”

He blinked. “No. Beautiful.”

My breath caught.

> 💗 Love Meter: +37%

He held out his hand.

“Dance with me.”

I stared at it. A gloved palm, extended with trust. With hope.

Once, I would have said yes without hesitation.

Now…

“No.”

He blinked. “Pardon?”

“I came to be seen,” I said. “Not touched.”

The words stung as I said them — harsh, cold, undeserved.

But Caelan stepped back, stunned.

I curtsied stiffly and walked past him.

The crowd was silent as I exited the ballroom. Every step echoed like thunder against the marble.

---

I found an empty balcony under the pale moonlight, the air sharp and cold against my skin.

Talia appeared moments later with a cloak.

“I said it,” I whispered. “I rejected him. Publicly.”

“You did,” she said gently.

“Then why does it hurt like this?”

She hesitated. “Because love doesn’t disappear just because you want it to. And neither does pain.”

---

A rustle behind us.

We turned.

Prince Caelan stood in the doorway.

His eyes… they weren’t angry.

They were hurt.

"Everyone thinks you're being cruel again," he said. "They call you heartless. Selfish. A cold-blooded noble girl playing at power."

I said nothing.

"But I don't believe them," he continued. "Because I’ve seen your eyes. And they’re not cold.”

I stepped back. “You shouldn't be here.”

He walked forward. “Then tell me to leave.”

I opened my mouth.

Nothing came out.

> 💗 Love Meter: +40%

He came even closer.

“I dreamed about your execution again,” he said softly. “This time, you looked right at me. You were crying.”

I trembled. “That wasn’t a dream.”

He froze.

“What did you say?”

“I… It doesn’t matter.”

“No. Say it again.”

I turned away. “Forget it.”

His hand caught my wrist — not rough, not demanding, just desperate.

“Evelyn,” he whispered, “what do you know?”

I couldn’t look at him. Not with the moon lighting up the sorrow on his face. Not with that dream lingering between us like prophecy.

“I remember everything,” I said at last. “Everything from before. The trial. The curse. My death.”

He didn't speak.

He couldn't.

“You were the one who watched me die,” I said, voice shaking. “And I forgave you. Even then. I loved you enough to forgive you.”

Tears stung the corners of my eyes.

“But this time, I won't let you die because of me.”

Caelan’s grip tightened.

“You think I would regret loving you?”

“You’ll be dead before you regret anything.”

A long silence passed between us.

Then he said, so softly I almost didn’t hear:

> “Then I’d rather die loving you… than live never knowing you.”

My heart stopped.

He stepped away from me at last.

“Even if you push me away,” he said, “I’ll find the truth. About this curse. About us. I swear it.”

Then he left.

And I stood there, moonlight on my face, the frost in the air sharper than any blade.

Because the boy I once loved…

Was going to fall again.

And this time, I might not be able to stop it.

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