S1 E3: https://scratch.mit.edu/projects/1235190120/ S1 E5: https://scratch.mit.edu/projects/1241343804 ♤Ep 4 Sn 1♤ The ballroom was glowing. Golden chandeliers hung like stars overhead, casting warm light across polished marble floors. Music drifted through the air—soft, elegant, the kind that made you want to twirl even if you didn’t know how. Nobles mingled in clusters, laughter echoing off the walls, and the scent of rosewater and honeyed pastries filled the room. Thessa walked in with Mira, Lira, and the rest of the invited maids, all dressed in their gowns, gloves, and just enough perfume to make heads turn. They didn’t have escorts, but they didn’t need them. They were a unit—giddy, glowing, and ready. They gathered near the edge of the dance floor, pretending to admire the flower arrangements while very obviously scanning the room. “Oh my goddess,” Mira whispered, elbowing Thessa. “Look. Look. Look.” Thessa followed her gaze. A group of knights stood near the fountain, dressed in formal tunics and looking way too good for their own good. One of them had his hair slicked back. Another was laughing at something, dimples on full display. And then— *Him.* He wasn’t laughing. He was just watching. Calm. Curious. His eyes met Thessa’s across the room. Her breath caught. They locked eyes for a second—just a second—and then she looked away, heart thudding like a drum in her chest. “Oh my *gods*, it’s them,” Lira whispered. “It’s *them*. The training ground boys.” “They’re looking over here,” Mira said, smoothing her skirt. “Do I look hot? Be honest.” “You look like a walking daydream,” Lira said. “Thessa, you good? You look like you saw a ghost.” Thessa blinked, trying to play it cool. “I’m fine. Just… surprised.” “Girl,” Mira said, grabbing her arm. “If you don’t talk to him tonight, I swear I will.” Thessa laughed, cheeks flushed. “You don’t even know which one I like.” “Oh, we *know*,” Lira said. “You’ve been staring at him for a year like he’s a painting in the royal gallery.” They giggled, whispering and adjusting their gloves, pretending not to notice the boys still glancing their way. The music swelled, and couples began to dance, but the girls stayed in their little circle—safe, sparkly, and full of possibility. Thessa smoothed the lace on her sleeve and stole one more glance across the room. He was still watching. A couple hours had passed, and the ballroom had come alive. The music had shifted from elegant to enchanting, the kind that made people laugh mid-spin and linger a little longer in each other's arms. The chandeliers glowed brighter now, casting golden halos over the dancers. Laughter echoed, skirts twirled, and the scent of rosewater clung to the air like a memory. Thessa stood near the edge of the room, her gloved hands folded gently in front of her. She wasn’t sulking—just watching. Content, mostly. The night had been beautiful. The dresses, the music, the way the castle shimmered like something out of a dream. Some of the boys had come over earlier, smiling and asking the girls to dance. Mira had been swept away almost instantly, giggling as she disappeared into the crowd with her knight-of-the-week. Lira followed soon after, cheeks flushed, whispering something about “his hands are *so* warm” before vanishing into the swirl of music. Thessa hadn’t been asked. And that was okay. She leaned against the cool marble wall, watching the dancers move like waves. Her friends were laughing, spinning, glowing. She didn’t feel left out—not really. Just quiet. Like she was watching a story unfold from the outside. A few girls passed by, whispering and adjusting their gloves. --- Cael had been watching her all night. Not in a creepy way. Just… noticing. She’d come in with her friends, laughing and glowing in that soft gold dress that somehow made her look like she belonged in the ballroom more than half the nobles did. She hadn’t danced. She hadn’t been asked. And now, she was standing near the wall, watching the crowd with this quiet, thoughtful look that made his chest feel weird. “You’re gonna regret this,” said Joren, nudging him hard in the ribs. Cael blinked. “What?” “She’s *right there*, man. Alone. No one’s talked to her. No one’s asked her to dance. This is your moment.” Cael glanced over again. She was still standing by herself, hands folded, eyes drifting across the room like she was trying to memorize it. “I don’t know,” he muttered. “Girls are scary.” Joren groaned. “You literally spar with swords. You’ve fought off a wild boar. But girls are scary?” “Yes,” Cael said. “Because swords don’t judge you if you say something dumb.” “She’s not gonna judge you,” Joren said, rolling his eyes. “She’s the nicest one I’ve ever heard about. Mira says she’s sweet. Lira says she’s smart. And you’ve been staring at her like she’s made of moonlight for months.”
Cael rubbed the back of his neck. “I just… I don’t know what to say.” “Try ‘hi,’” Joren said. “It’s a classic.” Cael hesitated. His heart was thudding. His palms were suddenly sweaty. Joren didn’t wait. He grabbed Cael by the shoulders and started pushing him forward. “Go. Go. Go.” “No—wait—Joren—stop—” But it was too late. She was just a few steps away. And she was looking up. --- Thessa had been watching the dancers for so long, the music had started to feel like background noise. She leaned gently against the marble wall, her gloves smooth against the cool surface, eyes drifting across the room. Mira was still spinning with her knight, laughing like she’d never laughed before. Lira had disappeared somewhere near the fountain, probably mid-flirt. Thessa didn’t mind being alone. Not really. She glanced toward the far side of the ballroom—and blinked. One of the knights was being… pushed? It was subtle, but unmistakable. His friend had both hands on his shoulders, nudging him forward like a parent trying to get a shy child to say hello. Thessa tilted her head, confused, then looked away quickly, pretending she hadn’t seen anything. But something tugged at her curiosity. She glanced back. He was walking toward her now. Slowly. Hesitantly. His friend had backed off, grinning like he’d just won a bet. And the knight—the knight—was smoothing his tunic and trying to look casual. Thessa’s heart jumped. She stood up straighter, subtly adjusting the lace at her sleeves and tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear like she hadn’t noticed him at all. Her pulse was suddenly louder than the music. He stopped just in front of her, offering a polite, slightly crooked smile. “Excuse me,” he said, voice warm and confident, “but I couldn’t help but notice how lovely you look tonight.” Thessa blinked. Oh. That was… sweet. Unexpected. Kind. She smiled softly, trying not to look too flustered. “That’s very kind of you to say.” He held out a gloved hand, eyes steady. “I’m Ceal.” Thessa hesitated for half a second, then placed her hand in his. “Thessa.” Their hands met—soft, careful, unsure—and for a moment, they just stood there. Eyes locked. Words forgotten. The music faded into the background, and the ballroom seemed to blur around the edges. Then, almost at the same time, they both realized. They let go quickly, hands dropping to their sides, cheeks warm. Thessa looked down, then back up. And Ceal was still smiling. Thessa’s heart was still fluttering from the handshake. Ceal stood beside her now, posture relaxed but eyes bright, like he was genuinely happy to be there. The music swirled around them, and the ballroom shimmered with candlelight and laughter. “So,” he said, voice smooth and easy, “do you always look this stunning, or is it just a ball-night thing?” Thessa laughed softly, cheeks warming. “I think it’s mostly the dress.” “I disagree,” he said, smiling. “The dress is nice. But you—you're kind of dazzling.” She looked down for a second, then back up. “You’re very good at this.” “At what?” he asked, feigning innocence. “Talking. Complimenting. Making people blush.” He grinned. “I’ve had practice. But I promise I mean it.” Thessa smiled, feeling more at ease. “Well, thank you. That’s very kind of you.” He nodded, then tilted his head slightly. “So… what do you do here?” “I’m a maid,” she said simply. “I work in the castle—laundry, deliveries, garden work, polishing silver. That sort of thing.” He looked genuinely interested. “That sounds like a lot.” “It is,” she said, “but I like it. I like the rhythm of it. The quiet parts. And I get to see things most people don’t.” “Like what?” She thought for a moment. “The way the Queen hums when she’s getting ready. The way the light hits the east corridor at sunrise. The smell of fresh herbs in the garden after rain.” “What else do you like?” he asked. “Outside of work.” Thessa hesitated, then shrugged. “I like embroidery. Reading. I sketch sometimes, but I’m not very good. I like watching people. Not in a weird way,” she added quickly, laughing. “I think that’s the best way to be,” he said. “Curious. Observant. You probably know more about this castle than half the nobles here.” “Maybe,” Before she could respond, Mira caught her eye from across the room—spinning in the arms of a knight, cheeks flushed, eyes sparkling. She waved at Thessa with a huge grin, mouthing something like finally! and giving her a thumbs-up. Thessa laughed and waved back, her heart light. Ceal glanced over, watching Mira twirl. “Your friend looks like she’s having the time of her life.” “She is,” Thessa said. “She’s been waiting for this moment since the announcement.” He turned back to her, eyes warm. “Would you like to dance?” Thessa smiled, “My pleasure.”
