The heavy doors of the imperial ballroom felt less like an entrance and more like a gateway into an arena. Step by step, Yerel walked into the grand hall, his posture immaculate, the pristine white and gold of his formal royal uniform catching every beam of the enchanted chandeliers. He looked every bit the perfect crown prince. Unfortunately, his mind was an absolute mess.
There were hundreds of people filling the room, high-ranking nobles from every corner of the empire, foreign nobles in silk, and whispering socialites looking for any scrap of court gossip. But the moment Yerel's eyes swept across the ballroom, everything else blurred into a meaningless background.
All he could see was Cherion.
