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T he chandeliers in Lady Anna Ashford’s townhouse blazed with what seemed like a thousand candles, casting their golden glow over the crush of London’s elite, each whisper and sidelong glance brimming with anticipation of the engagement ball unfolding beneath their glittering light.

Yet, Sera had never found it more difficult to breathe.

“Smile,” her mother commanded through gritted teeth as they stepped into the ballroom. “You look like you swallowed a lemon.”

Sera cast a quick glance at her father and whispered, “You didn’t tell Papa.”

“I tried but it would have sent him to an early grave. It would break his heart to see years of business collapse because of a rebellious child.” Her mother scoffed. “You will do what is best for the family. Nobody needs to know.”

“Mama—”

Her mother’s fan snapped open beside her, the sound sharp and deliberate. “Hold your head high, Seraphina,” she said with a warning look, “and for our family’s sake, try to enjoy yourself. Or pretend to at least.”

“It’s a lie! I’m not—”

“Stop it! An omission isn’t a lie. And when you feign surprise on your wedding night, you don’t need to lie either. Just leave out—” Her mother tsked. “I’d rather not name what you did. Get it together, child. You’re not in Cornwall anymore. This is London, and you’ll be a princess.”

“I’m not doing this,” Sera hissed, clearing her throat when her father’s gaze fell on her, but he must have been out of earshot from his position near the buffet.

“Your father will formally announce the betrothal in exactly two hours. Behave until then.”

Behave?

That wasn’t going to happen.

This was her moment to act—to find the prince, break the engagement, find Alex at Vauxhall, and finally take control of her future.

She couldn’t—wouldn’t—fail. But it wasn’t so simple anymore.

Not with her mother’s gaze drilling into the side of her head, likely doing so for the rest of the evening.

Her mother leaned closer, her voice a low hiss. “Do not embarrass this family, Seraphina. This is a ball with royals in attendance. Whatever foolish ideas you’ve concocted, I suggest you bury them now and forever.”

Sera didn’t respond. She couldn’t, not without igniting the argument that would ruin all her plans for tonight.

Instead, she scanned the room, her eyes flicking over the crowd of faces, searching for the one man she had no interest in finding, and yet she had to speak to him.

Surely, the prince was here somewhere, and she needed to get this over with as quickly and quietly as possible.

First, escape her mother.

But another face lingered in her mind, distracting her, pulling her focus like a siren’s call.

Alex. Would he be thinking of her right now, too?

Was he pacing somewhere, counting the hours until midnight as she was?

Or was she merely fooling herself, clinging to a dream that had no chance of becoming reality?

She would never find out if she allowed the situation with the prince to proceed. Plus, if Alex knew, he wouldn’t want her, right?

Stop it! No more doubts! Just action!

She had imagined this moment a hundred times—what she would say, how she would say it. But the thought of delivering such a blow at an event full of watchful eyes made her palms sweat. Where was he? Wouldn’t a prince hold court at a ball or was this only reserved for British royals?

“Sera!” Ashley called out before Sera could further examine the attendees. A secret sigh of relief escaped her lips as her friends presented her with an opportunity. She sent her friend a bright smile as Ashley approached with her fiancé, the Earl of Linsey.

An escape!

And a chance to move about the room and look for the prince.

Could she steal a dance? The quadrille would be next, and Sera looked toward the string quartet. Many guests were dancing. She glanced at Ashley, who had a sparkle in her eyes. Her friend understood, and she was ready to help.

Her mother suddenly fanned herself furiously. “Lord Linsey, what a pleasure.”

“Linsey,” her father greeted. “Congratulations on your engagement. It warms the heart to see young people forging such respectable paths together,” Mr. Lyndon said to the earl.

The words sent heat bubbling under Sera’s skin. Her voice came out stronger than she expected. “Why don’t I get a chance to decide my path?”

Her mother froze, her hand ceasing its restless adjustments of her jeweled bracelet. “A chance to marry a prince?” she asked sharply. “By all means, my dear, that is precisely what we are here to confirm this evening.” Her eyes flashed, daring Sera to push further.

But Sera couldn’t stop now. Her chest heaved as the words spilled out. “What about love? Why hasn’t that factored in?”

Mr. Lyndon released a low chuckle, shaking his head as though amused by a na?ve child.

His words prickled at Sera’s every nerve.

“You see, Linsey, these young women today—they don’t quite understand the bigger picture we lay out for them.

Love?” He waved a hand dismissively. “That comes secondary. Or not at all.”

Sera sent Ashley a prompting glance. “I need your help,” she mouthed at Ashley who came to their side with a knowing look.

Ashley nodded. “I know,” she mouthed back.

Then tell your fiancé to ask me to dance!

Ashley nudged her fiancé lightly, her expression urging.

However, Sera’s eyes caught on the two gentlemen beyond her friends.

There he was again. One of them in particular seemed familiar but she wasn’t quite sure where she knew him from.

His shoulders were broad, he was tall, and his hair was a light shade of golden-blond. The color of sand.

She blinked, but Linsey’s voice drew her back to their group.

“Miss Lyndon,” he began with a soft smile, extending a hand. “Would you honor me with another dance?”

Thomas’s timing was impeccable, a lifeline before Sera could combust any further under her parents’ scrutiny. She hesitated only a second before nodding, slipping her hand into his. She didn’t care what anyone thought. She needed to escape.

This might be her last dance in high society if her plan worked and she could reunite with Alex. A simpler life awaited, and yet it beckoned sparkling with love rather than superficial lavishness. Sera placed her hand in the earl’s and allowed him to lead her toward the dance floor.

There was no return.

The orchestra struck up a waltz as the earl guided her into the steady rhythm of the dance. His calm, measured steps offered surprising comfort to her trembling limbs.

After a moment, he looked down at her, his expression unreadable, though his tone was warm. “Sera,” he said softly, “don’t let anyone or anything get in your way if you’ve found love. If you have, I can tell you—it’s worth any risk.”

Her breath hitched.

She tilted her head up, catching the sincerity in his eyes as he glanced briefly at Ashley, his expression softening.

Sera’s heart warmed. Despite everything, she had good friends. “Thank you.”

From the corner of her eye, a figure caught her attention—a man standing by the far wall, his posture sharp and commanding, a silent authority in the easy way he held himself. Her gaze lingered, curiosity unfurling in her chest, but the next step drew her away before she could focus more on him.

Sera’s pulse quickened, more from distraction than exertion.

Then she saw him again.

Dark hair, taller than most men in attendance, standing just beyond the crowd.

Striking, yet different. He wasn’t looking at her, not directly, but something about him prickled at her memory.

A shadow of familiarity danced in her thoughts, just out of reach.

Had she seen him before? Her mind whirred, but the tempo quickened, forcing her attention back to partner and the ordered rhythm of the dance.

She dipped her head, trying to shake off the tension creeping up her neck. A sense of foreboding suddenly gripped her heart.

*

Eleven o’clock. Alex had one hour to untangle his future from Miss Lyndon and find the pavilion at Vauxhall.

He’d asked his valet to circle the block and remain ready to take him there at a moment’s notice.

But nothing was dropping here besides his patience.

He stood near the edge of the ballroom, his gaze drifting over the elegantly dressed crowd, with Stan at his side.

The ballroom was resplendent, candlelight reflecting off crystal chandeliers, casting patterns of light that danced across the polished parquet, but he felt dread rising in his chest. Everywhere he looked, he saw Sera.

As if the strangers here in London were no more than waves in the ocean. Oh, how he wished he could turn back time and kiss her that day. Hold her again. Because one thing was certain: he wouldn’t let her go again.

But he’d been on the wrong path all along, consumed by ideals of duty when it was love he’d truly saved himself for.

Because of his principles, his station, and his responsibilities, he’d dismissed that sentiment for years.

How wrong he’d been, because all that mattered was love—his love for Sera and his love for his family.

He didn’t need to serve his country out of duty; he loved Transylvania and had vowed to protect his heritage.

But that wasn’t all that mattered in life.

But also, he couldn’t regret his path, for then he wouldn’t have met Sera.

“Isn’t it rather grand, Alex?” Stan’s voice was light, carrying an edge of excitement. “Lady Anna’s ball is the event of the season, and I don’t think I’ve seen our sister happier.”