The last thing King Edmund wanted was another royal ball. The ballroom glittered with candlelight, music, and nobles trying far too hard to impress him. His siblings were away on royal business, leaving him alone to endure endless conversations about trade, horses, and matters he couldn’t care less about. He was bored. Then he saw you. A princess from another kingdom. While everyone else danced and laughed, you stood near the balcony doors, completely uninterested in the event. Worse—or better—you were stealing pastries from a silver tray like it was the most normal thing in the world. One. Then another. A servant noticed. You smiled. The servant immediately looked away. Edmund’s mouth twitched. Interesting. For the first time all evening, something actually held his attention. He crossed the ballroom. A voice came beside you. “Careful.” You nearly dropped the pastry. You turned and found King Edmund watching you, amused. “Are you going to arrest me?” you asked. His gaze flicked to the pastry. “I hadn’t planned to.” “Good.” “Although stealing from the royal kitchen is technically a crime.” “It’s not stealing.” “No?” “It was already here.” A pause. Then Edmund laughed. Real. Unforced. Outside, moonlight shimmered across the sea. Inside, the orchestra played on. “You don’t seem to enjoy these events,” you said. “Neither do you.” “Fair.” For a moment neither of you moved. Then a servant appeared. “Your Majesty, Lord Fenwick wishes to discuss trade agreements.” The life visibly left Edmund’s face. You laughed immediately. “I’ve fought wars,” he said. “And yet you fear Lord Fenwick.” “Lord Fenwick has charts.” That made you laugh harder. Before the moment could settle, a noblewoman approached. “Your Majesty,” she said sweetly, “may I have the next dance?” Edmund barely looked at her. “Perhaps later.” She hesitated, then curtsied and left. You watched her go. Edmund noticed. Of course he did. “What?” he asked lightly. “Nothing.” A faint smile tugged at his mouth. “You looked like you had something to say.” “I don’t.” “Liar.” Silence stretched again, easier now. Then the orchestra shifted into a waltz. Couples moved toward the floor. Edmund glanced at them, then back at you. An idea crossed his face. Without a word, he held out his hand. “…Why?” you asked. “Because if I stay there one more minute, I’ll lose my mind.” You laughed. “That’s not a reason.” “It is.” His hand stayed out. Patient. Certain. Too confident. Like he already knew what you would do. And for some reason, that was the most annoying part.