The Harvest Festival in Balton was a beloved tradition, held at the end of autumn, once the crops had been gathered in preparation for the bitter winter ahead.
Everyone in the city looked forward to it. It was a time of feasting and music, of reunion and celebration, and a chance for young men and women to meet and fall in love.
Lucian had attended countless festivities—some lavish and elegant, others humble and rustic—but never before had he felt this excited.
Leaning against the staircase railing in plain clothes, he stood at the foot of the villa, arms crossed, fingers tapping impatiently.
Then he heard footsteps descending. Lucian looked up immediately.
There was nothing extravagant or showy about her. Seraphina wore a simple deep-blue dress. Her short hair fell freely, framing a bare face that needed no paint to be beautiful.
Lucian smiled and extended his hand, already knowing she would likely walk right past him. But when Seraphina placed her hand in his, his heart burst into bloom. He looked up at her, almost unable to believe it.
Seeing that look on his face, Seraphina nearly laughed aloud, but settled for a smirk instead.
"What's wrong, Your Highness? First time holding a girl's hand?"
Lucian chuckled, shaking his head. "No. Just the first time you let me."
Seraphina blinked, caught off guard by the sincerity in his voice. Her forehead tingled, as if the memory of last night's kiss had reignited. But she quickly masked it and pulled her hand away.
"Let's go. Before the sun sets."
Lucian didn't move right away. He brought his hand, still lingering with her warmth to his lips, inhaling the faint scent of jasmine to soothe the hunger clawing at him. Only then did he follow her.
The festival had begun early that morning, but Lucian and Seraphina had duties to finish, and didn't arrive until late in the day.
By the time they reached the town square, it was packed. Colorful banners fluttered in the autumn breeze, and laughter and chatter mingled with the cheerful sound of folk music, filling the air with a joyful energy.
As soon as they stepped down from the carriage, Seraphina made a beeline for a food stall selling grilled lamb. The rich, smoky aroma immediately reminded Lucian of how little they'd eaten since morning, just a few slices of bread.
Seraphina bought two skewers and handed one to Lucian, offering a brief introduction.
"This grilled lamb is a Balton specialty. Only sold during the festival. If Your Highness doesn't mind, have a taste."
Lucian frowned slightly, noting how she spoke to him like some pampered prince unfamiliar with the real world. Still, he couldn't blame her. It had been a long time since he'd left the battlefield, long enough that even the taste of blood felt distant now.
With a crooked smile, Lucian leaned forward and took a bite directly from the skewer in her hand.
"Don't you have hands, Your Highness?" Seraphina asked, annoyed, trying to snatch it back.
Lucian caught her wrist and held it steady. "I'm a prince. Why should I use them?"
"You're not in the palace anymore, Your Highness," she shot back, letting go of the skewer and brushing her hand off. "And I'm not your servant."
Lucian finally took the skewer for himself and said, "Then stop treating me like royalty."
He stepped closer, voice low and weighted. "With you, I just want to be Lucian."
Seraphina's lips pressed into a thin line, unsure if her reaction stemmed from irritation, or something else.
"Then stop acting like a prince." She turned and walked deeper into the festival, the setting sun casting an amber blush across her cheek.
Was that a sign she was beginning to let her guard down?
Lucian followed with his heart floating high above the clouds, listening as she pointed out Balton's unique customs and delicacies.
By the time they reached the festival's center, dusk had fallen. A bonfire burned bright in the middle of the square, casting golden light on everything nearby.
Couples danced hand in hand to the lively music. There was no formal etiquette like the balls in the capital, no extravagant gowns. Just ordinary people weathered by sun and rain, moving in time with open hearts.
Lucian found himself stirred by the atmosphere. He turned to ask Seraphina to dance, but hesitated, afraid she'd turn him down. So instead, he made a casual comment.
"Balton's dance is rather… interesting."
Seraphina saw right through him. Tilting her head, she smiled. "Would you like to join in?"
Lucian's heart leapt. "Of course. I'm here to learn about Balton's people, after all."
He held out his hand, waiting for hers. But the mischievous curve of her lips made Lucian realize she had something else in mind.
Without warning, Seraphina pulled a middle-aged woman from the crowd and placed the woman's hand in his.
"This is Lady Marble, the finest dancer in all of Balton." Seraphina looked at the woman, whose eyes sparkled at the sight of Lucian. "Lady Marble, this is Lucian—a distinguished guest from the capital. Please take good care of him."
"With pleasure."
Before Lucian could object, Lady Marble whisked him into the throng. While he wasn't a bad dancer, the unfamiliar steps of Balton's folk dance threw him off balance.
Realizing he'd been played, Lucian glanced back to find her, and lost himself in the moment.
Seraphina was laughing, delighted by his awkwardness. The firelight flickered across her face, more brilliant than any star above.
All of Lucian's frustration melted away, leaving only the sweet ache of longing.
As long as she's smiling… that's enough.
He said nothing more, focusing instead on learning the new steps with Lady Marble. He soon discovered this wasn't a typical partner dance, after each spin, they changed partners. A clever tradition that allowed people to connect across all walks of life.
Lady Marble chatted nonstop, but Lucian's eyes were busy searching the crowd.
And there she was, dancing with another man.
He should've been jealous. He should've stormed over and pulled her back. But the way she smiled, so free and unburdened, made it impossible.
At royal balls, Seraphina always danced with grace and restraint. But here, with no titles, no prying eyes, she was wild and radiant.
This, this was the Seraphina he had fallen in love with. And damn it, he loved her even more like this.
Lucian took a deep breath, suppressing the growing hunger inside. He had to be patient. He'd come this far, he couldn't afford another misstep.
Scanning the dancers, he silently counted how many more turns until she would be back in his arms.
Just three more.
One.
He paired with a shy young girl, who blushed furiously in his presence. Lucian offered a polite smile.
Two.
An elderly woman took the lead, her energy tireless. She moved faster than he could follow.
Three.
And by some cruel twist of fate, Lucian found himself dancing with a man. Both of them moved stiffly, clearly trying to avoid unnecessary contact.
Finally.
Seraphina spun toward him, and Lucian caught her, his arms wrapping tightly around her waist. His grip was firm, but his touch was gentle.
"Enjoying the dance, Your Highness?" she teased, eyes twinkling with mischief.
Lucian gave a dark chuckle and pulled her closer, murmuring near her ear.
"Starting now, I am."
They danced together, in sync with the folk rhythm, their bodies drifting apart and snapping back like it was all a game to test his restraint.
"You learn quickly," Seraphina remarked. "The ladies taught you well."
"Not well enough," he replied, heat rising through his chest. "Maybe you should teach me more."
"I'm not much of a teacher. Should I fetch you another lady or two?"
With that, Seraphina twirled away from him.
But Lucian smirked and reeled her back in, caught in the joy of her teasing.
"Not so fast. I'm not satisfied yet."
Her hair flew with each turn, the scent of jasmine dancing around him like a spell.
"But your time's up," she whispered.
With a final spin, Seraphina slipped from his grasp to join a new partner.
Little minx.
Lucian could only watch her go, eyes locked on her every move, already counting down the beats until she would return to him again.
And this time… he wouldn't let her go.
The cheerful music still echoed through the night, shadows of dancing figures cast against the stone walls by the flickering bonfire.
Lucian waited patiently.
Until Seraphina fell into someone else's arms—a man who had always appeared each morning with a single iris in hand.
Jeremiah.
Lucian tried to steady himself, reminding his heart it was just a dance.
But then he saw Jeremiah's arm slip around her waist, lean in to whisper something in her ear, something that made her laugh.
And it struck him like a splinter to the heart.
A flame suddenly ignited.
More violent than the bonfire blazing in the square.
***