The palace is filled with music, all kinds of smells and treats for the guests — all together looking like a work of art.

Magic spheres light up the place from under the ceiling, walls decorated with sculptures, and servants are flowing through the crowd offering drinks. Upon arrival, I am greeted by gorgeous women in puffy dresses, they treat me like I am their dear friend, men are smiling at me with wide smiles on their faces. My eyes widen at how beautiful this place is, almost like a fairy tale. For a moment, the thoughts corrupt my mind that I even forget about potential danger, excitement overtakes the anxiety. Then a dark silhouette in the back of the hall catches my attention, the atmosphere tenses and I can literally feel a sense of danger with my skin. From this distance, I can’t see faces, despite that my heart skips a beat, and then falls into a frantic leap.

“These are the guests of the King. Diplomats from Ruanda, the land belonging to werewolves.” Deckard says from behind my back, noticing where I’m looking. Today he keeps me company at the Ball. Now and then I catch him eyeing me, and hope that it’s due to Victoria’s exceptional beauty, and not due to a sudden change in her (my) behaviour.

“They are paying a visit to solve some political issues,” he explains, looking at my lips.

“What issues?”

“You don’t need to know that. However, what you do need to know is to stay away from them,” Deckard leans closer to me and whispers, voice dropping an octave. “Unless you want to give birth to one of those flea-hosting puppies,” he grins, and I cringe upon hearing his words, “Don’t you worry, sis,” he says arrogantly. “The People of Ruanda despise humans. They only see our girls as one-night stands.”

“What? Why?” I already knew the answer, but decided to proceed with it anyway.

“Because in Ruanda, hookups are unacceptable. There they bound for life, opposed to people who are incapable of this, you know this yourself, don’t you,” he cracks a smile, probably hinting at my illegitimate birth and Earl’s affair, is he provoking me?

“What about True Love?” I don’t give in to the provocation.

“They are exceptions. You know how rare it is for werewolves to find True Ones among our race. Personally, I don’t believe in such bonds. Think about it, what sane person would fall for a hairy beast?”

I once again throw a quick glance at the black silhouettes, the gaze naturally drawn to a certain tall figure, with an effort, I rip my eyes off the group. Deckard goes on talking about the crowd at the Ball, pointing at guests one by one. Nevertheless, his hand rests on my waist, almost as if he is protecting me. Or as if claiming me to be his? Is that what brothers usually do? I don’t pay much attention to his monologue.

‘The King’s palace is vast, there are many people here today, it won’t be a problem hiding from Alan, plus my wrist is securely wrapped up.’

I recall the story in my mind. According to the plot, Victoria spends all the time in the company of Ruandians, flirting in every way possible with each one of them, and they are captivated by her beauty. Then, Alan invites her for a dance, this is when he notices the Mark on her wrist, taken aback he drags her to the garden. There, Victoria drunkenly begins to giggle and hangs on Alan’s neck, trying to kiss him. Alcohol is pumping through her veins, and Alan dumbfounded from the luck that had fallen upon him. It is a big thing for a werewolf to find True Love, it is such great happiness. Although it also makes him extremely vulnerable because literally, anyone can be the True One, be it a thief, local villain and what not. And what if someone has malicious intentions, kidnaps his True One and starts blackmailing him?

The real Victoria never thought of this, and hence she would celebrate the victory, so the next day she goes telling everyone that she is soon to be the princess of Ruanda.

“Okay, I have got to go now,” Deckard says upon noticing father. The Earl of Lemeria has arrived at the Ball after everyone else, and now greets his son with a gesture. “Behave yourself. Father is already upset with you.”

“We shall see,” I reply, unamused.

When Deckard leaves, I go help myself with some drinks, to wet my throat, never forgetting to spy on the guests from Ruanda.

On the way to the table I get asked for a dance by several men, but I politely refuse each time, not necessarily because I don’t want to, but I simply don’t know how. Imagine the embarrassment if someone manages to pull me into a dance, how can I explain that the Victoria suddenly doesn't know how to move? Although, people might think I’m just mocking the poor man who managed to get me to dance with him.

I make a mental note to hire a dance teacher, after all, Balls are very common in this world, and in general, it’s worth catching up with local sciences. History, geography and what not. Maybe even magic?

In the book Victoria isn’t interested in anything apart from her looks, though, in one of the chapters she studies black magic to hurt Elisa, and in fact, she succeeds. What if she could possibly have a talent for magic? If so, why not try to develop it further? A few tricks up my sleeves won’t hurt me, but I need to remember that, for example, in Ruanda the use of black magic is strictly prohibited. Would this count as another reason for the prince to chop my head off?

“Victoria, dear!” I’m greeted by an unfamiliar girl with a very narrow face and black eyes. She remotely reminds me of a ferret, just as fussy and fidgety.

Who is she anyway? Oh, this must be Mina. Victoria’s best friend. In the story, she likes to have a few drinks and incites Victoria to get in trouble. In addition, she would always be jealous of the Mark that her best friend shared with Alan. Later on in the book, when she meets with Elisa, and she helps with her father’s illness, Mina turns her back on Victoria, and goes as far as telling Elisa all the dirty stuff about her ex-best friend. ‘There is no way I am trusting her,' I think.

“Hello there, beautiful,” Mina chirps. “Why are you all alone here? Where is your adorable brother?” She half hugs me on my shoulders and hands me a glass of wine. “Here, have a drink. It isn’t much fun otherwise. What’s up with that?” She rants and points at my wrist.

If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

“Uh, just a burn.”

Mina gives me a quizzical look.

“I wasn’t born yesterday, sis! I’ve known you for years now. Throwing dishes at the servants again and cutting yourself?”

“Yeah, right,” I give her a strained smile. Mina strongly smells of alcohol and her attire is extremely indecent, the girl's chest is about to pop out of the corset. She shoots her eyes at men around her, hunting for the best meat, to be later on seduced by one of Alan’s soldiers. And, as expected, she will flee away in the morning to never see the person again. Mina would drown her sorrows and try to find solace in alcohol, being jealous of Victoria’s Mark of True Love.

“Shall we go ahead and meet them, what do you say?” Mina sends a glance towards the Ruandians. Plot-wise I have to agree, however, instead I reply: “We should not, Mina.”

The girl only dumbly flaps her long lashes, confused.

“Come on. I can tell you want to. There are some handsome men over there, have you ever seen their hands? Damn, those are some guns… And their eyes. They basically burn holes in us. Let’s go!”

“I’m afraid some boars with massive muscles aren’t exactly up my alley. Besides, I’m not in the mood.”

“Cut the crap. I don’t believe a word you say. Are you scared?”

“Huh? Scared of what?”

“Of course because if I get the Mark sooner than you, you will never get over this, I know,” Mina’s voice is soft and nice, but her eyes are full of grudges. She takes a long sip from her glass, I look at my glass, at the red liquid that reminds me of blood so much, I definitely shouldn’t indulge in drinking.

“Victoria Sableford, welcome to my Ball,” a new voice says.

Mina and I are approached by a whole delegation of maids led by a dark-haired woman, who is somewhat reminiscent of a fictional vampire. She wears bright red lipstick, with smooth black hair and a very pale skin. Diamonds hang from her dress, almost resembling a Christmas tree, only her wrists are free from any type of jewellery. This is a demonstration of respect to the guests and the King. Then I realise who this woman is — this is Iriana, a partner of the King's eldest son, hence the future princess of Lemeria.

“My pleasure,” I pay my respect, watching with apprehension as Iriana’s people surround Mina and I from all around. This isn’t going according to the plot, but I know for sure that the relationship between Victoria and Iriana was always on the brink of war.

Then one of the maids suddenly pushes me under the elbow, the glass slips out of my hands and chatters with a clatter on the marble floor. Wine leaves splashes on my dress, Mina screams, drawing everyone’s attention.

For a moment there, the entire hall falls silent, even the music stops. I feel like everyone is staring at me. ‘Alan is probably watching us too.’ This situation is almost comical, yet, something like this was to be expected.

“You are so awkward, Victoria,” Iriana exclaims loudly. “Look at my dress. Your father’s money won’t be enough to remove these stains.”

Mina leans to me and whispers: “But it was her maid who pushed you. Are you going to tolerate this? Do something!” She whispers furiously.

I don’t move an inch, there is a lump stuck in my throat. Everyone around us is looking almost like they wait for some sort of performance. There is no trace of their previous smiles, they look like hungry vultures, and I seem to be the prey. In the story, the Ball is a great place full of incredible and interesting people, yet this is how naive Elisa sees the Ball.

What should I do? Simply flee? Explode with anger, just as the real Victoria did in the book? The longer I spend in this world, the better I understand Victoria’s behaviour. However, I have an advantage that the book Victoria doesn’t have.

“I am truly sorry, this is totally my fault,” I say politely. “I in no way meant to get your dress dirty. However, now you have a valuable reason to get a new one, and not wear the dress that was bought for the prince's ex-partner. It must be tough knowing that whenever he looks at you, he sees her,” the maids gasp and look back at Iriana in fear. Suddenly, she goes red, but then the colour leaves her face completely, and she turns white, gaping like a fish underwater, probably wondering how I could know the truth about the dress.

“Tailors don’t always know how to keep their mouths shut,” I hint to her, regardless that naturally I know this from the book.

“This is nonsense!” She finally declares, yet, her initial reaction has already revealed her. It’s only a matter of time before the whole court finds out about the origins of the dress. Knowing Iriana’s personality, this will take a toll on her self-esteem. However, maybe in the future, she’ll learn from her mistakes and will think before digging into people.

“Oh, am I mistaken? Sorry, love, my apologies.”

“Your apologies?” She hisses back at me, what a snake. “Who the hell do you think you are?!”

“Oh, who am I? Well, clearly someone who knows a few rumours here and there. I’ve heard a few things about your father’s business. How is the sugar trade going? Any problems with the supplier?”

This is a low blow, but what can I do? I should end her once and for all.

Iriana is now gritting her teeth, Mina blinks dumbfounded, apparently no one has ever seen this side of Victoria yet. The maids whisper, glancing fearfully at the soon-to-be princess.

I’m already celebrating the victory, when suddenly out of the corner of my eye I notice a dark figure approaching our small party. My heart skips a beat.

“Was nice seeing you, dear. Catch you later,” I retreat quickly.

The maids let me pass them, yet Iriana is frozen in place. Surely, she’ll want to take revenge at some point. Well, let it be, then. I won’t let anyone mess with me.

After getting out of the crowd, I look around to check the situation. A dark figure, whose face I can’t distinguish, walks directly up to me, in a very fast manner, this takes my breath away. And I need no confirmation to know — it’s him.

‘I might be envisioning things. Why on Earth would Alan want to see me now? Maybe he just needs something from this part of the hall, or he saw someone else…’ I’m having an inner monologue with myself. However, the answer comes by itself. ‘This is the plot of the story that is pushing him towards me. It is crucial for us to meet for the book to progress. The book needs Victoria Sableford to fall in love and die.’

There is no way I am ready to give up just yet. Plot or not, there has to be some common sense in this world. I make a beeline to the exit, then to the terrace, from where I can proceed to the royal garden and get lost among trees. As I walk, the lines from the book come up in my head:

“The Mark is a magical seal that binds two souls into an indivisible whole. Among the male werewolves the Mark appears from the very birth, amid female werewolves — during adolescence. However, in people, women get to have their Mark only upon meeting their True One.”

Then I think to myself: ‘What if I worry about nothing and I merely can’t get the Mark? After all, it mates the souls, and I’m not even the real Victoria, so logically we can’t be bonded.’ The idea takes hold of me that I start giggling nervously. Exactly. No need to worry.

But I still should be cautious. Just when I am about to leave the terrace, I hear “Wait up!”

I can feel a hot palm pressing on my shoulder, I only have time to utter a peep, and the person already turns me around, and I’m faced with my future killer.

I look into his captivating eyes, and with horror I realise that the skin on my arm under the bandage begins to burn, as if something is being burnt into my skin…