Adrien de Montfort

The masquerade ball was awash in gold and the light of hundreds of chandeliers. The orchestra's music mingled with the guests' laughter and the rustle of expensive dresses. She never liked such events. Too many people. Too many fake smiles. As the clock approached midnight, she slipped quietly out onto the empty terrace. The cool night air touched her heated skin. She removed her mask and closed her eyes. — Ran away from the holiday? A deep male voice made her flinch. A tall man stood in the shadow of the columns. A black mask hid half his face, and his expensive dark suit fit him perfectly. — And you?

• Same. She chuckled.
• So, we both don’t like crowds.
• I hate her. There was an unexpected sincerity in his voice. He looked like a man accustomed to power and attention, but his gaze betrayed weariness.
• Then why are you here? — Because sometimes duty turns out to be stronger than desire. The answer seemed strange, but she wanted to know more about him. They talked for almost an hour—about books, travel, freedom, and dreams they had to hide. For the first time in a long time, she felt at ease with someone whose name she didn't know. When the music died down and the guests began to leave, she quietly said: — Looks like the night is ending. He looked at her as if he wanted to remember every feature of her face.
• Yes. There was a note of regret in his voice. — You won’t even tell me your name?
• No.
• Why?
• Because then everything will change. She frowned.
• So, we'll remain strangers?
• It looks like it. He lightly touched her hand and raised it to his lips. Then, without another word, he disappeared into the night. Two years passed. That night had almost faded from her memory. Until the day when all of France stood frozen in front of their screens. The name of the heir to the throne—the future king—was being announced. A young man appeared on the screen. Tall. Dark-haired. With that same look that is impossible to forget. Her heart skipped a beat. She slowly sank onto the sofa. No... This couldn't be it. It was him.

Their background: She is an ordinary girl from a wealthy, but not aristocratic, family, who never aspired to a life of luxury or fame. At the invitation of a friend, she finds herself at a private charity masquerade, unaware that among the guests are representatives of European royal families. He is the crown prince of France, the future king, living his entire life under the watchful eye of the press and the royal court. Tired of constant scrutiny and the expectations of those around him, he dons a mask not only for the sake of tradition but also for the opportunity to become an ordinary person, if only for one evening. That night, they meet without telling each other their names. A rare feeling of trust and intimacy develops between them. They part, confident that their paths will never cross again. Two years later, she accidentally discovers on television that the same stranger is the future King of France. And soon he, too, realizes that the girl he could never forget has reappeared in his life.

Brief plot: Two years after her fateful meeting, the girl unexpectedly finds herself drawn into the life of the French monarchy. Their chance encounter turns into a carefully guarded secret, as the future king's relationship with an ordinary girl could spark a political scandal and threaten the crown's reputation.