The music swirled around them, a soft, hypnotic melody that seemed to pull Vincent and Anastasia deeper into each other's gaze. The grand ballroom, still filled with thousands of eyes, faded into the background as if the space around them no longer mattered. The golden chandeliers above cast a soft glow, shimmering across the walls and reflecting off the marble floors beneath their feet. The entire room seemed to hold its breath as the two danced, effortlessly gliding across the dance floor like they had been born to move together in this exact moment.
Vincent's hand, strong and steady, held Anastasia's waist with a gentleness that spoke of years of yearning. Her slender fingers rested lightly on his shoulder, and she could feel the rhythm of his heartbeat through the fine fabric of his suit. Her eyes met his, deep, knowing, yet still veiled by that wall she had spent years building. Even now, she refused to fully acknowledge what was simmering beneath the surface. But in this moment, with every perfect step, every subtle movement, every second that passed, she felt herself being drawn closer to him.
Vincent, for his part, was consumed by her presence. His gaze never wavered from her face, absorbing the beauty of her features as though memorizing the way her lips parted with every soft breath, the delicate curve of her neck exposed by the graceful updo of her hair, the glimmer of the crown on her head as it caught the light. Everything about her felt impossibly perfect, and yet, in this moment, she was real. She was here. In his arms. And that was all that mattered.
He had given her the most extravagant gift, something beyond what anyone had expected—something that outshone the wealth of entire kingdoms. But none of that had mattered to her. She had asked for something more, something that couldn't be wrapped in gold or presented in front of millions. And he, without hesitation, had given it to her.
And now, as they danced together, neither of them wanted to break the connection.
The world watched, their eyes glued to the couple, waiting to see what would happen next. The rumors had been swirling all night, speculation about the mysterious bond between the two of them, the inexplicable connection that had begun long ago. But tonight, none of those whispers mattered. They had not come here to satisfy the world's curiosity. They had come here for something more intimate, something only they could understand.
Anastasia, despite her stoic nature, felt something stirring inside her that she had never allowed herself to acknowledge before. For years, she had kept her distance from Vincent, pushed him away, not because she didn't want him but because the very thought of admitting her feelings made her feel vulnerable. She was the heir, the queen-to-be, and queens didn't surrender their hearts. They didn't fall for the man they had once known as a child and then watched grow into something even more unattainable than before.
But tonight, she felt her control slipping. Her body was moving to the beat of the music, but it was his presence that seemed to guide her every step. The warmth of his body against hers, the smoothness of his movements, the way he held her so effortlessly yet so protectively—it was too much to ignore. The dance, like everything else, seemed to slow down, stretching the moment into eternity, and she couldn't escape it.
Her breath caught in her throat as Vincent's hand drifted lower, resting just above the curve of her waist, and she could feel her pulse quicken. His eyes never left hers, as if he were studying every expression she made, every flicker of emotion that passed across her face. His closeness made her heart race, but she held herself steady, refusing to break the facade she had so carefully cultivated.
But in the back of her mind, a quiet voice whispered truths she had tried to deny for years.
You love him.
She tried to push it away, but it lingered, pressing against the walls she had built so carefully around her heart. The more she tried to fight it, the more she felt herself slipping. It wasn't just the dance, or the intoxicating pull of the night; it was everything that had happened between them. All the years of uncertainty, the silent yearning, the moments where their lives had briefly intertwined, only to pull apart again. All of it had led to this.
She wanted to deny it. She told herself that she could live without him. That she could focus on her crown, her family, her duty. But as the music swelled, as the world around them seemed to disappear, she knew it was impossible.
Vincent's hand tightened around hers, drawing her even closer, and for a brief moment, she allowed herself to lean into him. The intoxicating scent of his cologne mixed with the faintest hint of champagne on his breath, making her feel light-headed, but it wasn't the drink. It was him. He was a force of nature, impossible to ignore, impossible to forget.
Her heart fluttered in her chest, and she realized, with a jolt, that she had been holding her breath. She exhaled slowly, but her eyes never left his.
Vincent, too, felt it. He had wanted her for so long, but it was in this dance, this quiet moment of shared space, that he realized how much he had truly wanted her. The music played on, but to him, it felt like the only thing that mattered was the woman in his arms. This was what he had fought for, what he had waited for, what he had dreamed of. He could feel her heart beating in sync with his, and he knew, without a doubt, that they were both lost in the same shared dream.
The world continued to watch, unaware of the turmoil, the passion, the internal struggle that was playing out in real-time between them. To everyone else, they were just the perfect, royal couple. A queen and her devoted prince, dancing together as they had been taught to. But for Vincent and Anastasia, it was much more than that. It was the culmination of years of unspoken desire, of a love that had always existed in the quiet spaces between their words and actions.
When the song came to an end, there was a brief, pregnant silence. Neither of them moved, both reluctant to let go, but eventually, as the final note played, the moment broke. Vincent slowly pulled back, his eyes still locked with hers.
The world waited, as if expecting something more. But instead, Vincent did something unexpected. He smiled—a genuine, soft smile that lit up his entire face. It was the first time anyone had ever seen him smile in years, and it sent a shockwave through the crowd. He had always been so serious, so intense, so driven. But in this moment, with Anastasia, he had allowed himself to soften, to give in to the feeling that had overtaken him.
And for a split second, the world held its breath, unsure of what to make of this new Vincent. He had never shown this side of himself before.
Anastasia, too, was taken aback. The smile on his face, so rare and yet so sincere, was enough to shatter the walls she had built up around her heart. She looked at him, her lips trembling slightly as she realized, perhaps for the first time, just how much she truly needed him.
But they said nothing. There was nothing more to be said.
As the dance came to an end, the crowd erupted into applause, but it was clear that their attention was still fully on the two of them.
However, as the music faded, Vincent didn't let go of her hand. Instead, with a quiet smile still lingering on his lips, he leaned in and whispered softly enough that only she could hear.
"I've waited for this moment, Anastasia. But this isn't over yet."
Her lips parted slightly in surprise, but she didn't answer. She didn't need to. The dance had spoken for both of them.