Cold Hearts In Love.

Aurora stood before the Duke's mansion, her gown scandalously tailored to accentuate her womanly figure. The butler, stationed dutifully at the grand iron gate, regarded her with a knowing nod. She was a familiar presence here, a favored visitor of the Duke. 

"The Duke hath departed for the ball, madam," he informed her, his tone polite yet distant. 

Aurora's lips curved into an amused smile. "Ah, indeed? I fear I left behind a ring during my visit yesterday. Might I trouble you to retrieve it?" 

The butler, seeing no cause for suspicion, inclined his head. "Certainly, madam." He opened the gate and gestured for her to proceed. 

As she ascended the steps and crossed the threshold of the Duke's opulent mansion, the butler followed a respectable distance behind. Aurora's gown swayed elegantly with her stride, the provocative cut of the fabric no doubt a distraction to the servant.

She feigned a search for her ring, her gloved hands delicately combing the cushions of the white velvet couch in the chamber where, not a day ago, she had entertained the Duke. 

With practiced ease, she slid a folded envelope from beneath the cushion into the hidden pocket of her gown and, in its place, deposited a plain ring she had brought for the purpose.

Rising with a sigh of relief, she turned to the butler with a radiant smile. 

"Ah, here it is! Thank you for permitting me entry," she said warmly. 

The butler inclined his head, offering a courteous smile.

Who was he to disrespect the Duke's favored courtesan, knowing full well her influence?

"I am pleased you have found it, madam. Allow me to see you out." 

With that, he escorted her to the gates and bid her farewell.

Aurora stepped into the cool evening air, a sense of triumph alighting in her chest. As she made her way to the public carriage stop, she noticed the streets were unusually crowded.

The King's invitation to the grand ball had drawn folk from every corner of the land, yet courtesans, musicians, and dancers were expressly excluded. 

The Duke, of course, had promised to take her as his companion, but Aurora had not placed her faith in the word of a man so consumed by his reputation.

His broken promise was no surprise. Her stolen invitation, procured while he was lost in bliss the night before, was her true assurance. She had to visit the palace today, it was her only chance, the only reason she had stayed alive was to get rid of the man who sabotaged her whole family, her life. 

After some delay, Aurora managed to hail an empty carriage and directed the coachman toward Deathville's palace. Yet, as the journey stretched far longer than expected, a prickle of unease stirred within her. She leaned out of the carriage window, the stars in the sky few. 

"Good sir, have we not arrived yet?" she called out. 

"Almost, madam," came his gruff reply. 

But the carriage soon halted, not at the gates of the palace, but in a desolate stretch of road surrounded by darkness. The coachman dismounted, a leering grin spreading across his face as he regarded her. Aurora sighed, "here we go again," she murmured to herself.

"Here we are," he said, his voice thick with mockery. 

Aurora stepped out, her expression calm despite the situation. She had faced such misfortune too many times to be startled now. 

"Are the horses tired?" She asked, her tone dull. But he ignored her question, a small smirk playing on his thin lips.

"Weren't you seeking attention, dressing so provocatively for the eyes of men?" he jeered, licking his lips as he drew closer. 

Aurora folded her arms under her breasts, her gaze cold and unwavering.

"If I were seeking attention, sir, it's definitely not the attention of a cold beggar such as yourself, I would desire." 

His grin faltered, his eyes narrowing.

"In fact," she continued, her voice sharp and disdainful. "To liken you to a beggar is an insult to beggars everywhere. You are far beneath even that." 

Her words, delivered with icy precision, cut deep, and his amusement vanished. Aurora's fingers clenched into fists. She was no helpless victim, and this would surely not end in his favor.

Aurora stood before the madman with icy resolve as he taunted her. "You are unafraid of what is about to happen to you, it seems," he sneered, a crazed glint in his eyes. "By the time I am done with you, thou shalt beg for mercy."

Without warning, he seized her arm, yanking her toward him. Yet his confidence was short-lived as Aurora swung her fist with practiced precision, landing a sharp blow to his face. The force sent him stumbling backward, blood trickling from his nose.

"A spirited wench, are we?" he spat, wiping at the blood and lunging toward her with renewed aggression. But Aurora was faster. She sidestepped his clumsy attack and delivered another strike, her fist connecting with his nose once more, sending him sprawling to the ground.

Aurora stepped over him, straddling his chest as her fists rained down with unrelenting force. His face grew bloodied beneath her assault, and his groans turned to pained gasps.

"You are lucky I do not have much time on my hands, or I shall see to it that you regret this for the rest of your life," She grabbed him by the collar, her voice sharp and commanding. 

"Now tell me, where lies the palace?" She asked, and his reply came in mild coughs and laughs. "Speak now, or I shall see to it that you can never sire a child." She said as her gaze traveled to his groin area, his laugh immediately subdued. 

He choked on blood and spit as he stammered, "A few miles hence—straight ahead! Then just turn to the left, and go straight—you will figure it out."

Aurora's gaze narrowed. "And if you lie to me, I shall ensure you regret it."

"Straight ahead, I swear it!" he croaked, wincing.

Satisfied, Aurora rose to her feet, but not before driving her heel into his groin, eliciting a howl of agony. Without another glance, she strode to the carriage, she mounted the saddle with practiced ease.

Though a woman riding astride was considered unseemly, Aurora had long abandoned such trivialities. She urged the horse forward, its hooves pounding against the cobblestone as she raced toward the palace.

As the grand structure loomed into view, its dark spires piercing the gray sky, Aurora felt a shiver of apprehension. The palace, shrouded in mist and foreboding, seemed to watch her approach.

She dismounted gracefully, her gown sweeping the ground as she took in the eerie sight of the iron gates creaking open as though in silent invitation.

Guards awaited her beyond the gates, their bows deep and reverent. "Welcome to the soirée," one of them said, and once they raised their heads, their eyes widened in surprise.

"Your Highness!?" He exclaimed in surprise, his head bowed deeply.

"His Majesty hath long awaited your arrival."

Aurora's brow arched beneath her gilded mask. Your Highness? she thought, nearly laughing at the absurdity.

Deciding to play along, she offered a slight nod and followed the guards into the compound.

The path to the palace doors was lined with weathered statues, their worn features casting haunting shadows in the dim lantern light. Sparse, skeletal trees stretched their twisted branches skyward, and a cracked fountain stood silent and moss-covered at the center of the courtyard.

The guards bowed once more and left her to ascend the grand staircase alone. As she stepped into the ballroom, a hush fell over the room, and all eyes turned to her.

Aurora's gown, a cascade of shimmering blue, clung to her curves like a second skin. Its daring neckline and exposed midriff drew whispers of astonishment.

The golden belt around her waist glinted in the chandelier's glow, its delicate chains chiming softly as she moved. Her mask, ornate and encrusted with jewels, added an air of mystery that captivated the onlookers.

"Oh my God, is that Princess Lisa?" Someone asked, surprise evident in their tone.

"Who else would dress so boldly?" Another said.

"She must be a guest of great importance."

Aurora allowed the whispers to swirl around her, keeping her stride steady and her expression unreadable. She had no time for dancing or mingling.

Her mission was clear: find the King and eliminate him before her deception unraveled as it seemed fate was on her side for the first time, but the future was unpredictable, and she didn't know if either her or the king would be coming out alive, even though she's prepared for this day all her life.

If truly Lisa was a special guest, she must be an acquaintance of the King and it would be even easier for her to find him.

A man approached, bowing slightly. "Your Highness, may I have this dance?"

Aurora smiled politely but shook her head.

"I must beg your pardon, sir, but I have pressing matters to attend to."

As she slipped into a quiet corridor, she began to question the King's whereabouts. Surely, he would not conceal himself entirely, because she would recognize him no matter what. 

The sound of footsteps echoed behind her, followed by a faint rustle. Instinctively, Aurora spun, her dagger drawn and pressed against the neck of the intruder.

The man chuckled, a low, mocking sound that sent a chill down her spine.

"Are you trying to seduce me?"