"I want my crown, and I want nothing to do with you. I could get both if you'd just go along with it," he growled, his eyes darting back and forth, constantly on guard to make sure no one was listening.

The truth was, Eliza was the only person Ian could talk to without feeling embarrassed. Whether it was talking casually or having an argument, it was all the same to him. Something about her—her presence—frustrated him. Ian couldn't even pinpoint when or why it started, but now it didn't matter. He was being forced to marry someone he despised, and he was willing to ruin her life just to escape it.

"Come on, there has to be something you want out of this? Now lets go back inside" he said, sticking out his elbow inviting her to grab his arm. He hated it but it was apart of the act.

Everyone had a weakness. For as long as Ian had known Eliza, he'd tried to find hers—something he could use to destroy her life and finally get her to leave him alone. It was cruel, but he couldn't stop.

Ian hadn’t considered the need for heirs, but he’d deal with that later. If it made his father happy, he didn’t care. All of Ian’s life had been spent trying to prove to his father that he was good enough for the throne. Ian had power, but he struggled to be charming and caring toward the public—it was harder than it seemed.

“I haven’t been told anything about the wedding yet. I’m counting down the days—coronation’s the day after, so at least I have something to look forward to,” he said, his tone teasing. It was the first time he had teased Eliza. He didn’t want to, but he knew he needed to start feeling more comfortable around her.

He paused at the bottom of the steps and turned to face Eliza, taking her hand and noting how soft it felt in his own. “The act starts now,” he said quietly, careful to keep his voice low enough to avoid his mother's sharp ears.

As they reached the first step, his mother opened the door. Ian shot her a stern look, but she ignored it. “Glad to see you two are warming up to each other,” she remarked, and Ian sighed, walking the rest of the way into the house. The interior was packed with people—royalty, servants, and other powerful figures.

A servant called out, “The princess, Eliza Decula, and Prince Ian Tran.” The applause was instant, and Ian couldn’t help but smile. He reached for Eliza’s hand on his arm, holding it for a brief second before the attention shifted to the food being served.

“And I’m gone,” he muttered, dashing off toward the food. He filled his plate with roast venison and grabbed another plate for his betrothed, carefully selecting dishes he thought she would like. He located her in the crowd and presented the plate to her, feeling a little sheepish. “I tried,” he said, his plate a mess from the rush he was in. Ian hated large crowds and usually avoided them whenever possible.

Ian followed slowly, making sure no one else was trailing them. As soon as they sat down, a crowd of humans engulfed them. “You were saying?” Ian said, giving Eliza an exaggerated look. He was pressed closely to her by his mother. “Sorry,” he whispered in Eliza’s ear.

A cousin approached, congratulating Ian. “What a cute couple you two make,” he said, smirking at Ian. Ian grabbed Eliza’s arm a bit harder than he intended and locked eyes with his cousin. “Don’t go near her.” The urgency in Ian’s voice must have meant something to his cousin, as he wasn’t seen for the rest of the night.

Ian released Eliza’s hand, revealing a red mark. “Oh, crap, I’m sorry. Just... don’t go near him,” he added, pointing to where his cousin was now mingling with a few young women. Ian wished he could be mingling with people his own age, not stuck in a circle of middle-aged guests who were more interested in making sure he was ready for his coronation.

“Eliza’s mother and I have been planning the wedding. It’s going to be a magnificent event, both for this country and for history,” his mother said, snapping Ian’s thoughts back to the present. He eyed her, who was obviously enjoying getting on his nerves.

“We’ll be taking Eliza to pick out the wedding dress tomorrow,” his mother continued. Ian almost choked on his food but managed to keep it down. “Tomorrow? Why so soon?” Ian gasped searching for air.

His mother smirked. “You must be ready for your wedding in a month’s time. I wanted the ceremony in a week, but your father convinced me to leave a little more time for decorating.” She laughed at the expression on the ‘couple’s’ face.

A million thoughts rushed through Ian’s mind. In less than a month his world would be shattered. A month... not long enough, but somehow more time than he expected.

“If you’ll excuse us, I must take Princess Eliza for a dance,” he said, standing up and bowing slightly. He gently took her hand and led her to a dark room.

“First, I have no idea where your ballroom is. And second… one month. One month!” He let go of her hand rather roughly and ran his fingers through his hair, deep in thought.

"At least we get a month," Ian muttered, glancing over at Eliza. "You heard what my mother said—she wanted it all done within a week." He peered around the door, checking to make sure no one was coming. "Okay, now show me where this ballroom is."

He stepped out of the room slowly, following Eliza into a vast space filled with people. The moment they entered, the music stopped, and Ian could feel a hundred pairs of eyes instantly trained on them. Seizing the opportunity, he grabbed Eliza's hand and spun her around. The music picked up again, and Ian could finally breathe as the room fell back into its previous rhythm.

He hesitated but eventually placed his hands on Eliza's waist, dancing awkwardly. His eyes darted back and forth across the ballroom, never lingering on her. He was too busy watching his cousin across the room, who was struggling (and failing) at flirting with someone nearby.

"So, how’s your evening so far, Princess Eliza?" Ian finally asked, dragging his focus back to her. Her eyes shone in the dim light, and for a moment, he got lost in them. Ian, what are you doing? he chastised himself internally. Get it together. You’re not in this for her. You’re in this for the crown. He had to remind himself of his purpose.

The crown belonged to his cousin. But when his cousin's father had died too soon, the crown had passed to Ian’s father—a decision that sparked years of simmering animosity. Now, both Ian and his cousin had come of age, and it was a battle for the throne. If Ian could marry and secure his coronation, the crown would rightfully be his. Even if it meant marrying the one person he most wanted to avoid.

Ian glanced around the room, his gaze flickering between the faces of the guests. "Well, it’s going better than I expected," he muttered, more to himself than to Eliza. "But we’ve got to keep this show going." The words felt like a reminder, not just to her, but to himself too. The last thing he wanted was to fall for his enemy, like the characters in the stories his mother used to tell him. Pathetic stories, he thought bitterly. He had always prided himself on being a great actor. And now, he was going to have to prove it—especially if it meant staying in this farce with someone he didn’t want to be stuck with.

The room's chatter slowly quieted as the families arrived. Ian’s eyes skimmed over his mother, but he quickly turned his attention back to Eliza. Her hair shimmered in the thin beam of light that streamed through a small window in the roof. He found himself captivated by it, the way the strands seemed to glow. I could touch it. Just as part of the act, he told himself. But no. That was crossing a line. He was getting ahead of himself.

He swallowed hard, forcing the words out. "Well... he’s just a nuisance," Ian said, his voice tight. He didn’t want to tell Eliza the truth—that he wasn’t cut out for the crown. It wasn’t just about stealing something that didn’t belong to him; it was about the weight of it, the guilt that gnawed at him every time he thought of it. He had been raised for this role, but something about it never felt right.