Page 16 of Gifted to the Alien Prince

THADRON

“There you go, Enrinu. A well-deserved tub of food.”

I watched my favorite frostgrazer eat his dinner in the stable. My hand skimmed over its freshly-brushed fur, enjoying the simplicity of caring for these animals. Usually, it was enough to ground me. But after seeing Isa tonight in her dress my attention went beyond the stable.

I closed the stable door behind me and leaned against the frame. My thermasense nodes registered the subzero temperature this evening. It was good that Isa’s dress was crafted with a heat regulating layer to keep her warm.

The memory of her face lingered, her eyes lit with gratitude, her smile soft and genuine. And that dress. When Isa thanked me for it, my eyes caught on the way the fabric hugged her curves. The deep red flowed over her like molten warmth, the color rich against her brown skin. For a moment, I forgot myself. All I saw was how she stood on the walkway like a flame refusing to be extinguished.

Strange heat curled in my chest. She wasdifferent— a diplomat from another world. I could now see why Rone and Camille selected her to represent them here. She thrived around conversation and connection. My life was meant for solitude.

She belonged to laughter, to hope. I belonged to the past, to shadows too deep and memories too sharp.

So this reaction had to be nothing more than me being curious. After all, I had seen beauty from other worlds before.

But when Isa smiled, thoughts of other world vanished.

I let out a breath, watching it curl away My role at these holiday functions ended the winter I lost my soldiers on the ice fields. Their names etched into my mind. Celebrating anything felt like a betrayal to their memory.

But Isa would be in these festivities.

I rubbed my hand over my face, the leather of my glove creaking. I shouldn’t want to go. I shouldn’t be tempted by her bright smile or her cheery voice as she marveled at my world.

Her world now, if only for a little while. And yet, the thought of her standing among the festivities, her eyes searching the crowd and not finding me, gnawed at something deep inside me.

I clenched my jaw. My duty was to be a diplomat, a prince. To uphold appearances, no matter how hollow they felt. But was that all it was? The way my chest tightened when I remembered the way she looked at me—that wasn’t just obligation.

I thought of the song she’d caught me singing. Had she sensed the memories I tried to keep buried?

I pushed away from the stable door. I could retreat to an isolated part of the keep. It was easier that way.

I exhaled sharply. Maybe just for tonight, I could step out of my own shadows and be drawn into her light.

The stable area felt too cramped for the weight of my thoughts. I turned toward the keep, the distant sounds of the festival already ringing through the night air.

Just for tonight, I told myself.

ISA

THE BALLROOM SHIMMEREDlike a prism dream. I stood at the entrance and took in the breathtaking blend of futuristic engineering and Glaciarian tradition. Holographic snowflakes drifted from the vaulted ceiling. Luminescent garlands werewoven with threads of silver and gold. The air buzzed with lively conversation, laughter mingling with the delicate trill of a flute-like instrument and winter chimes.

I looked to the center of the ballroom. Prince Lucian stood at ease, holding court among a group of elegant Glaciarian women. His face was filled with mischief as he whispered something to make them giggle. I smiled at the scene. Typical prince.

I moved toward Queen Akora, who greeted me with a warm smile and a light embrace.

“You look radiant, my dear,” she said, her eyes crinkling softly at the edges. “The dress suits you perfectly.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty. And thank you for helping Thadron with the fit.” I smiled, though a twinge of disappointment curled beneath it.

Queen Akora’s gaze drifted around the room, and her lips tightened with a faint trace of frustration. “I hoped Thadron would join us by now,” she murmured.

I swallowed the pang of my own disappointment. “I’m sure he has more important things to attend to.”

A soft bell chimed, delicate yet commanding, drawing the attention of the room. All around me, couples and families began to pair off for the Aurora Walk, their faces alight with excitement.

I turned to the queen. “Your Majesty, I know this is a special tradition for loved ones. I can wait here.”

“Nonsense.” Her eyes sparkled with resolve. “We would be delighted if you took part. I’m sure someone will be honored to accompany you.”