Cold Hearts In Love.

Realizing this man was but an ordinary stranger, Aurora swiftly withdrew her blade.

"You seem to be deluded as that wasn't my intention, but, my apologies," she said, her voice tinged with caution. "I am often prone to suspicion, particularly in unfamiliar environments."

The man, clad in unassuming attire that betrayed none of his obvious wealth, inclined his head with a faint smile.

"Hm, I wonder why. Princess Lisa, is it?" His voice was low and smooth, reminiscent of the gentle ebb of waves lapping upon a distant shore.

It seems everyone already recognized her as Princess Lisa, it made her curious of who this woman really was and what the fuss was all about, she thought as she gave a curt nod.

"Hmm." He regarded her briefly before extending his hand. In his palm rested the crumpled envelope she had stolen from the Duke.

"You dropped this," he said.

Aurora snatched it hastily, her heart quickening as she hoped he hadn't glimpsed its contents.

"And pray, what business brings you hither?" he asked, his tone polite yet laced with curiosity. Aurora adjusted her gown, a passive expression masking her unease.

"Should not the same question be directed to you?" she countered coolly. 

"Are the preparations not to your liking?" He asked, ignoring her question. 

"Hm, but I am not here to indulge in revelry, atleast not as you might think. Yet, I shall not detain you." She replied with a forced smile. 

As she turned to leave, his voice halted her. "Lisa," he murmured, his tone arresting.

He let out a dark chuckle. Aurora turned back, her eyes narrowing as she studied his masked visage. His gaze, a striking crimson, betrayed his nature—a creature of the night. The smirk upon his lips hinted at amusement.

"What is so amusing?" Aurora asked, her brown eyes narrowing at him, suspicion etched across her delicate features.

"A voice in my head just cracked a joke," he replied casually, his lips quirking into an infuriating half-smile.

Aurora stared at him, her expression shifting between disbelief and disdain. He shrugged, unfazed by her pointed gaze.

"Not my fault the voice in your head lacks a sense of humor."

She blinked, momentarily taken aback, before leveling him with a glare.

"Has anyone ever told you how utterly insufferable you are? Goodbye." With that, she turned on her heel, eager to escape his company.

"Wait a moment."

His voice stopped her, and she turned back reluctantly, only to find him stepping in her path. He extended his hand, palm upward, his expression shifting from smug to something far more serious.

"Would you honor me with a dance, Princess Lisa?"

The way he spoke the name sent a chill down Aurora's spine, as though he was mocking her with the name. She scoffed, masking her unease with feigned indifference.

"I'm afraid I have no time for such indulgences," she replied curtly and made to walk around him.

He moved again, blocking her path with unnerving precision. His eyes glimmered with a mix of amusement and quiet intensity.

"Did you forget the other day, Princess Lisa?" His tone was low and smooth, almost teasing. 

"You gave your word that we would share a dance. Surely, you're not one to break a promise?"

Aurora's breath caught. Lisa knew him? That thought hadn't crossed her mind when she assumed the false identity. She bit her lip, her mind racing for a way out of this predicament.

Clearing her throat, Aurora let out a soft, awkward laugh, hoping it might defuse his intensity.

"Oh, did I now? How careless of me," she said lightly. "It must have slipped my mind. Perhaps we might—how shall I say it—postpone this dance for a later time?"

Her excuse was feeble, and she knew it well. Yet the sharp, knowing glint in his eyes made it clear he was fully aware of her discomfort. 

"I have not much time to spare, so no," he said, his tone leaving no room for negotiation. 

"I suppose not," Aurora muttered, resigning herself to fate. Hesitant, she placed her hand in his. "I know not your name," she said, her voice tinged with caution. 

"That is of no importance at the moment," he replied smoothly, leading her onto the dance floor with unwavering confidence. 

The ballroom unfolded in all its grandeur, the polished marble floors gleaming under the soft golden light of crystal chandeliers. Rich velvet draperies adorned the towering windows, and the gilded orchestra played a lively waltz. 

Laughter and murmured conversations filled the room, but as Aurora and her enigmatic partner stepped into the center, a hushed curiosity rippled through the crowd, drawn by their commanding presence. 

His hand clasped hers firmly, while his other rested lightly upon her waist. "Shall we begin?" he asked, his voice a velvet murmur. 

Aurora cleared her throat again, willing herself to remain composed.

"Very well, though I—" 

"Save your doubts for later," he cut her off, his tone brooking no argument. Aurora narrowed her eyes at him, but he merely smirked in response. 

With a graceful motion, he swept her into the rhythm of the waltz. His steps were fluid and confident, guiding her effortlessly as though they had danced together countless times before.

Aurora followed instinctively, their movements in perfect harmony despite her unease. With each turn, his poise seemed to envelop her, though her guarded thoughts remained steadfast. 

As they glided across the floor, he suddenly twirled her, her gown flaring out like a blooming rose. His crimson eyes gleamed with a mischievous light. 

"Were you not enjoying the festivities?" he asked, his voice barely audible above the music. 

"I was searching for someone," Aurora replied cautiously. 

"And may I inquire who?" 

"No." 

A dark chuckle escaped him, soft yet sharp enough to unsettle her. 

His expression grew solemn as he spun her again, drawing her closer. His hand brushed against the ties of her mask, loosening them deftly without her notice. 

"I see," he murmured, his gaze studying her intently as they moved in unbroken rhythm. "You're quite adept at dancing, a skill I hadn't expected from you, Princess Lisa. Did you perhaps acquire a tutor after our last dance?" 

Before she could answer, he released her hand momentarily, spinning her to the side, only to clasp her hand once more with the same fluid motion. 

"We danced before?" she asked, her brow furrowing in confusion. 

"You do not remember?" He tilted his head, his lips curving into a mockingly wistful smile. "How tragic. I thought the memory might haunt your dreams for days, but it seems I was the only one deluded enough to imagine a shared interest between us." 

"You're lying, aren't you?" she accused, her voice sharp yet unsteady. 

"Lying?" His tone turned cold, his smirk fading. "I believe we both know who the liar is here." 

Aurora nearly choked, her pulse quickening. Surely it isn't too late to confess now, she thought, anxiety rising in her chest. 

"What's the matter? Has cat stolen your tongue?" he taunted, his voice tinged with quiet menace. 

"Well," she began hesitantly, "I'm sure you've already deduced the truth—that I'm not Lisa. So why continue this charade?" 

"It amuses me," he said plainly, though his expression hardened. "But do not mistake my jest for mercy. Now tell me—where is Lisa?"

"I will be honest, I don't know where she is or even who she was before I entered this ball," Aurora said quickly, desperation lacing her voice.

"The guests mistook me for her, so I played along. That's all." 

His chuckle was soft but unnerving, his crimson gaze locking onto hers. As he drew her closer, his smile vanished, replaced by a stern, unyielding expression. 

"Do not take my words lightly, Miss whoever you are," he whispered, his voice sharp as steel. "I am a man of my word. Speak now—who sent you, and why Lisa?" 

Before she could respond, he spun her once more, the motion causing the mask to slip further from her face. Before she could utter a word, Aurora felt the mask slip from her face. Her eyes widened, her heart racing in panic as the cool air caressed her exposed cheeks.

She glanced around, relieved that the other guest seemed too absorbed in their revelries to notice. Turning back to the man before her, whose eyes widened slightly at seeing her face, she whispered urgently.

"I swear it."

But he didn't seem to be listening anymore as

his crimson gaze fell upon her neck, lingering on the pendant that rested there. His expression shifted, his eyes narrowing with sudden intensity.

"How did you come by this pendant?" he demanded, his voice low yet firm.

Aurora frowned, confusion clouding her thoughts. What could possibly trouble him so much about the necklace? Before she could offer a reply, she caught sight of a woman advancing toward them.

There was something unsettling about her—a strange, unhinged look in her eyes. Aurora forced herself to focus on the man again.

"Answer me!" he pressed, his voice taking on an edge of impatience.

"What is your name?"

A blur of movement cut him short. Aurora saw the woman raise her arm, a gleaming blade catching the light as it arced toward him.

Without thinking, Aurora shoved him aside just in time.

The blade missed its mark, but as she reached out to stop it, it grazed her palm, leaving a stinging wound. She winced, the sharp pain spreading through her hand.