Why the hell am I here?
That was the only thought Alex had in his head as he stood in the corner of the room, drinking golden cider and stuffing his face with fancy cheese as he stared longingly at the dancers. Scratch that, he wasn't staring at the dancers, he was staring at the women. No, scratch that as well. He was staring at their gowns. He stared at the way they twirled, like a tornado of fine silk, intricate lace and chiffon. He wanted to be engulfed by it. He wanted so desperately to be the eye of that beautiful, luxurious storm.
Yet despite his desire to be adorned in these fabrics, he's stood here in an ivory tailcoat likely made of satin, because his father couldn't care less about his personal requests. Probably asked for something along the lines of: dashing, princely, handsome, three words that were all synonymous but his father insisted were different.
He clenched his jaw when he remembered the scene from earlier that day.
"Alexander Gabriel Han! Are you out of your mind? Never over my dead body are you to be seen like that in public, let alone at the ball we arranged to find you a bloody wife!"
Alex felt his blood boil at the thought of an arranged marriage. "Father, I'm barely eighteen, I don't need a wife right now! I swear no one will even know it's me!"
"Go upstairs and change into your coat! And don't ever let me see you in that ever again!"
He couldn't deny that his plan was futile. Of course his father, a king, would never allow his son, a damn prince, to be seen a gown. Personally, Alex believed his step-sister deserved more scorn than himself. After all, Anastasia was the one who introduced him to the world of couture and used him as a human doll to be dressed and accessorized.
It was her fault he fell in love with the feeling of silk against his twig legs in the first place. It got to the point where no bedding arrangement could satisfy his cravings. He needed more, and he wanted to be swung around on the dance floor in a silk and chiffon gown. He wanted the material to lightly brush his skin in a swirl as he waltzed about. He didn't want to be in control, stomping around in a stiff tux and heavy dress shoes. He wanted to be treated like a princess, like something delicate, floating through the air, for just one night.
He just wanted to see what it was like. So what if he's the Prince of Aurum?
He jammed another cracker into his mouth and continued to gloat at the dancers. It was then he saw in the corner of his eye, draped in blush pink chiffon, his sister heading his way, her golden locks bouncing in curls.
"Alex! Guess what! Father has just entered a room with some military general." He stared at her completely blank faced, bit comprehending anything. "Now's your chance!"
"Chance for what?" he asked, a bit frightened by her enthusiasm.
"You know..." she shrugged as if he was supposed to understand. She then leaned in like she was about to tell a big secret. "...the dress. You wanted to wear it tonight."
"I did. Before he got on my case about it."
"Pretty please! I'll do your makeup and hair. Oh! you'll be even prettier than me," she gushed. "Come on."
"What if I get caught? Won't anyone notice that I'm gone?"
She stared at him. "You really think anyone's going to notice you're gone when they haven't even noticed that you're here? Let's go."
Before he could reject her, Anastasia had grabbed him by the wrist and started pulling him away from the crowd, upstairs, and then into his bedroom.
"You've even left it laid out on your bed," she said, pointing to the baby blue silk gown. "Clearly you had plans to use it." She dug through her makeup bag as if to find treasure at the bottom of it. "Now sit and let me make you pretty."
He obeyed and sat, endless thoughts running a marathon in his head. What if someone recognizes me? I really shouldn't do this.
Other thoughts raced through his mind as well. No matter how strong his reluctance was, there would always be an underlying desire within him that was stronger. He knew he wanted this, badly, consequences and cares tossed to the wind.
So he sat still, and let her work her magic.
Anasatasia was putting on the finishing touches when they heard a knock at the door. Frantically, Alex threw himself onto the ground behind the bed, curled as small as possible.
"Come in!" she shouted, throwing Alex's cursed satin tux into the closet.
"Stas?" It was Gemma, the youngest of the three Greene daughters (and Alex's younger step sister). His father had married their mother when he was but a toddler, so all four of them had grown up together like real siblings. They were all close, but Anastasia was only a few years older than him and shared his same love of fashion. As a result they usually spent the most time together.
Alex felt relieved at the sound of her voice. He lifted his decorated head.
Gemma gasped. "Pretty!"
Anastasia sighed. "Gemma, Alex really wanted to wear this tonight, but father wouldn't let him. Please don't tell?"
"Of course," she smiled sweetly. "I just came to ask if you knew where my other glove was."
Anastasia rolled her eyes and gestured towards her bag. "Just borrow one of mine."
"Thanks!"
When she left Anastasia huffed bitterly to herself. "What am I? Everyone's damn fairy godmother or something?"
♬
It was an odd feeling—walking around his own ball without being recognized as Prince Alexander Han. Yet, despite being a completely new person appearance wise, he still found himself sipping champagne and eating crackers instead of dancing. Perhaps he shouldn't have held such high hopes for a whimsical fairytale scene.
Alex was just about to give up on his dream when he felt a body shove against his back, knocking him forward so that his glass tipped just enough for the golden liquid to spill out onto one man's maroon velvet coat.
He turned around brashly, and although he wore a white mask over his eyes Alex could sense fiery anger from the shape of his mouth alone. What came out of his face hole only made it worse.
"You little tramp!" he shouted, causing the dancers near them to halt. "Look at what you've done!"
"I-I'm so sorry." he barely managed, softening his voice as much as he could. "I'll get you a new one, I promise."
The older man shared a look with his friend, then back at Alex, examining his entirety from head to toe. Of course, in that moment he just had to be clad prettily in a dress and not in the damned tailcoat that's proved he was in fact their Prince. He realized he had no authority anymore. "I'll tell you what, beautiful. I doubt you can afford a new one, so I'll make you a deal." He grabbed Alex by a frail wrist and started tugging. "Let's go."
"Stop! I can afford a replacement, I swear. Just leave me alone, please!"
It was frightening how little people paid mind to him simply because he changed his attire. What had felt like a life or death situation to him probably looked like a typical wealthy man and his mistress affair to the people around him. He was no longer worth anyone's time anymore. Alex tried hard to break free, but he was never one with much physical strength to begin with.
"Leave her alone." All eyes shifted to the mysterious new voice, including Alex's. He was a man who looked no older than twenty, clad in a black mask and a matching triple black suit. Alex would be lying if he said this wasn't the first time he's seen a man with an earring, and he'd be lying again if he said he didn't find the look alluring. "Do you really want to make a scene here?"
"This tramp ruined my coat. She owes this to me, pretty boy. Why would we listen to you?"
Then he did something strange. He leaned in and said something quietly to the old man. Whatever he had said made his eyes pop from his sockets.
"We're very sorry!" they said frantically. "Please forgive us."
He smirked. "Only if you leave."
And so they obeyed, like domesticated dogs instead of wild wolves. Alex stood in awe, then he realized where he was and who was still there.
"Th-thank you...so much." He bit his lip, still anxious about being recognized. "How can I repay you?"
"No need."
Alex smiled weakly. "All I wanted to do was dance. I didn't think my night would turn to absolute shit like this."
He smirked again. "That's quite a mouth you've got for a lady."
Shit, he thought, because in the moment he forgot that he wasn't himself. "I'm sorry! Fuck, I'm a mess..." Then the man raised eyebrows at him and grinned even wider. "Ah!"
Before he knew it, the brunette held out a hand, and Alex stared with utmost confusion.
"Call me insane but I really want to dance with you."
Alex felt hot everywhere, and he sincerely hoped the man couldn't feel it in his hand when their touches met. For the first time in his life, he was led gracefully onto the marble dance floor.
Alex shuddered when the man placed a hand on the small of his back, and could barely breathe when they were mere centimeters apart. It must've been obvious how nervous he was, because leaned in to whisper,
"Relax."
and
"I've got you."
Alex gulped one last time and with a few deep breaths, managed to slow his heart rate from an extremely frantic one to a slightly less frantic one.
"There you go," he said. They moved slowly at first, step after step in accordance with the melody. It was starting to speed up, and, surprisingly, Alex managed well. "Ready for the lift?"
"I don't think that's a good ide-ahh!" He lifted Alex so easily into the air as if he were as light as a feather. He spent a maximum of two seconds in the air, but it was enough time to feel like he was grazing the stars. Like he was floating, almost, because he'd grown magnificent white wings and for once in his life felt like a swan instead of a duckling. When he landed, he couldn't stop smiling.
Then something dreadful happened. Their steps came to a slow with the music, and Alex knew the mysterious man would leave him to pursue other things. At least, that was what he thought before he glanced up into his marvelous sea green eyes that told him otherwise.
When Alex leaned in, it was under the impression that they'd never see each other again. When they pressed lips, he believed that under each of their masks were two people who'd never truly meet.
He pulled away quickly, regretful and about to apologize before the other man pressed another kiss against his lips. Alex melted in his arms, despite knowing he shouldn't.
I'm not who you think I am.
It was a cruel thing for him to do—make him fall in love with someone who didn't exist. Alex wanted to stop him, but he just couldn't. He felt like the room was spinning around him and that he'd started a storm he couldn't end. When they broke apart, the man held out his hand once again.
"Come with me." he said. "Please?"
So Alex did what he told himself not to: he gave into desire, like he was a sailor and the other man was a siren who lured him with dance. Once he held onto his hand, he never wanted to let go as they ran off the dance floor and down the hallway. Alex felt his gown brush against his legs as he ran, wind rushing through him wildly.
Despite being the one led, Alex knew the palace by heart and pulled the man into a room he knew would be empty. When they entered, he shut the door right before he felt himself being pressed against it. Alex pushed a knee between the man's legs, resulting in a gasp of pleasure from his lips.
Alex yearned to taste him again, and did so with a rough yet passionate kiss. His lips were slightly sweet, like he'd just eaten dessert. The man proceeded to trail kisses down Alex's neck, sucking hard enough to leave a mark.
"Your name..." he panted, growing aroused from having his neck pleasured. "I need to know your name."
In one smooth motion he removed himself from Alex's neck and peeled off his mask. Alex's heart sank at what he saw.
"Ezra," he said, beaming with joy. "What's yours?"
Alex felt his breath and pulse quicken. The man in front of him was none other than Ezra Maris, prince of his kingdom's long term enemy, Ferrum.
"How the hell did you get in here?" he asked. "You're not supposed to be here."
Ezra's eyes widened. Perhaps he was shocked that Alex knew who he was. "I can explain-"
It was too late. Alex had reached for the door knob and turned it. He ran out as fast as he could, regret flooding every vein in his body.
"Please!" Alex heard Ezra's voice echo down the long hall. He refused to turn back and just kept sprinting. He sprinted until his legs burned and he heard one last, quieting plead. "Come back."
And he didn't stop sprinting until he returned to his own room.
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