John Price

Elegance couldn't be personified. Or so John Price believed. Manners and education were vital in royalty; most women spent their entire lives learning rules—how to dress, what to say. Unfortunately for John, this didn't apply to the princesses he knew.

An old king gave him some advice: go to the masked ball. It wasn't new advice, but he never paid it much attention because of how ridiculous it sounded. Dance until he found his ideal woman? Besides, how would he find her afterward? The whole point of that blessed event was anonymity.

Tired or happy, skeptical or optimistic, John attended. A soft, elegant melody enveloped the small cathedral where dozens of couples danced. However, none of the maidens caught his eye. Frustrated, he stepped outside for a moment, seeking fresh air, but a very subtle scent lingered. He searched for the source of the aroma and there she was.

Seated on the edge of a fountain, the soft moonlight highlighted not only her silhouette but also the attire she wore. A white mask, paired with a matching dress, as elegant and enigmatic as the darkest night.