The banquet hall, once abuzz with clinking glasses and noble chatter, fell into a stunned silence.
"I… accept," Salira said.
Her voice was soft. Clear. No tremble, no laughter, no games.
She wasn't joking.
The silence cracked into a thousand gasps.
Duke Alpher dropped his wine glass.
Flora's perfectly pink lips parted in disbelief.
The Emperor narrowed his eyes.
But most notably, Prince Adam stood frozen—his hand still slightly outstretched, waiting for the slap or the laughter or the rejection that never came.
It never came.
Instead, Salira smiled.
And placed her gloved hand into his.
He blinked. The hall blinked. The world, for a moment, forgot to turn.
A second passed. Then two.
A slow murmur built at the edges of the room. Like a wave that couldn't quite decide if it should crash or retreat.
Adam bent low and kissed the back of her hand—his lips brushing against the silk like he was unsure she was real.
Salira—no, Iris—felt her stomach twist.
Because she knew exactly what she'd done.
The woman Adam had proposed to in the original story had mocked him in public and humiliated him in front of the court. He hadn't proposed to anyone again for years. The rejection had shattered his name and heart in one blow.
But this time?
This time, she'd said yes.
---
"I wasn't expecting this, Lady Salira," the Emperor said from his gilded seat, voice unreadable.
Iris gave him the same polite smile she gave tax collectors in her old life. "Nor was I, Your Majesty. But I've come to understand a few things recently."
"Indeed," the Emperor said coolly. "Enjoy the banquet. I'm sure this is a… memorable night."
---
The dance began.
Adam extended his hand again. She took it. The music swelled—soft strings and chiming piano echoing across the hall.
As he led her to the center of the ballroom, people parted instinctively, eyes trailing their every step.
Her gown, no longer pastel like Flora's, was deep crimson embroidered with threads of gold. It suited her. She looked less like a doll and more like fire itself.
And Adam? He looked…
Dangerous.
Sharp jaw. Black and red formal wear. Eyes like wine-dark velvet and a smile he didn't mean to show.
They began to dance.
One step. Two. She glided. He led.
"You're full of surprises tonight," Adam said, voice just above a whisper.
She smiled, her emerald eyes meeting his. "Isn't that what they say about villains?"
He let out a small breath—something between a laugh and a sigh. "Not when they smile like that."
---
They danced through one song. Then two. Long enough for nobles to start whispering and for Alpher to down another glass of wine.
At the third song's end, Iris gently excused herself.
She needed air.
She stepped out onto the marble balcony, the night sky overhead glittering like spilled gemstones. A soft breeze kissed her skin, and she inhaled deeply.
This world was beautiful. Cold. But beautiful.
And if she was going to survive it, she'd need to be just as breathtaking and twice as sharp.
The door behind her creaked.
She didn't turn.
"You followed me," she said softly.
Adam stepped out, the scent of cinnamon and frost trailing him. "Of course I did."
"I needed air."
"You said yes," he said simply. "You… said yes."
Iris looked at him then.
The moonlight turned his hair silver and his expression unreadable. His fists were clenched at his sides.
He wasn't angry.
He was confused.
"Why?" he asked again, quieter this time. "You've hated me for years. Mocked me. You loved Alpher. You told everyone. And now you say yes? Why?"
She turned away, gripping the marble balcony.
Because I'm not her, Iris wanted to scream.
Because she never saw you, but I did.
Because I remember how you wept over her body at the end of the novel.
Because you built an empire of vengeance with a smile no one ever saw again.
Because your love was silent, and hers was blind.
Because if no one else will love you, I will.
But she couldn't say that. Not yet. Not like this.
So she said:
"I changed."
He stepped closer. Close enough for her to feel the warmth from his coat. Close enough for the world to go still again.
"No one changes that fast," he said.
She looked over her shoulder. "Maybe you just never really knew me."
Their eyes locked.
Silence stretched between them like a string pulled tight.
Then Adam said the one thing she didn't expect.
"…Are you playing a game with me, Salira?"
Iris's breath caught.
"No," she said honestly.
He searched her face for a flicker of falsehood. But there wasn't any.
"Then what do you want?"
She hesitated, heart hammering. "A second chance."
The words felt like a knife to say. Not because they hurt, but because they were real. Raw. No tricks, no fake tears, no politics.
Adam stared at her.
And for the first time that night, he let his mask slip.
His voice dropped to a whisper.
"So do I."
---
Inside the ballroom, Flora sat still, her pastel dress suddenly feeling childish.
She watched them through the glass balcony doors—Salira smiling gently, Adam leaning in like she was the only person left in the world.
That wasn't supposed to happen.
Salira was supposed to embarrass herself.
Adam was supposed to be cruel.
And Flora…
Flora was supposed to shine.
But now?
The girl who used to copy her was glowing.
And the man everyone feared was smiling.
For Salira.
Not her.
---
Back on the balcony, Adam stepped back.
"I'll wait," he said.
"For what?" Iris asked.
"For you. Whoever you are now." His gaze softened just a little. "But I won't wait forever."
And then he turned and walked back inside, leaving Iris breathless against the railing.
The cool breeze brushed her cheeks.
Her heart thundered in her chest.
"I'm not her," she whispered to the stars. "But maybe… I can become someone worth loving anyway."