Chapter 72

**Luciana’s POV**

“Little candy? Are you hiding from me?”

I shrieked, bumping the back of my head against the table. “Ouch,” I whimpered before slowly crawling out from underneath the table.

“Me? Hide from you? That's impossible,” I said gently, rubbing the back of my head to ease the pain.

“You scared me there for a minute. You hiding from me would break my heart. And honestly, there's no place on this earth you could go that I wouldn't find you,” he revealed, grinning widely.

My eyes grew almost as wide as the saucers back home, and countless words got stuck in my throat. I turned to Arielle, practically begging her to say something, but she just sipped her martini nonchalantly, and I could have sworn I heard a chuckle. Jeremy flashed his perfect teeth before a soothing chuckle left his lips.

“I'm kidding...almost.”

I rolled my eyes and scoffed. “Ha ha, very funny.”

Arielle’s smile slowly widened as she gestured to a waiter to bring a glass of wine for Jeremy. I took a sip of my drink, catching a glimpse of Jeremy out of the corner of my eye. I have to admit, when it came to dressing the part, he was undeniably the king. His navy blue suit was tailored to perfection, with beautifully sewn embroidery. His shoes were spotless, neither a size too small nor too big. His hair was neatly combed, not a single strand out of place. The cufflinks on his wrists matched the crest of his pack, as did his brooch; they were definitely custom-made. He took his pack very seriously in rather odd ways. Everything he wore was impeccable and incredibly eye-catching.

I must have stared at him for too long because I was met with an intense gaze and a meaningful smirk.

“I think Miss Luciana can't take her eyes off me. Are you love-stricken by any chance?”

I glared at him and raised an eyebrow. “The last time I checked, you were the one obsessed with me.”

“That's rather far-fetched, don't you think, Arielle?” Jeremy questioned, his gaze still glued to me.

“Please don’t involve me,” Arielle pleaded, taking another sip of her martini.

“Just admit it, Jeremy; we can't choose who our hearts desire. I completely understand,” Keira finally uttered, a soft, innocent smile dancing on her lips.

“Thank you, Keira,” I smirked.

“I have no idea what you two are talking about,” Jeremy stated, picking up his wine glass.

Keira, Arielle, and I laughed, and I was more than ready to continue our ongoing banter, but something else drew my attention.

The person I had danced with before—our eyes locked for what seemed like forever. In that brief moment, time seemed to stop, and the beating in my chest grew louder, reaching my ears. I watched as his gaze wavered before he picked up a black mask and walked toward the masquerade ball.

“Caspian,” I muttered a few more times so I wouldn't forget it. That name, right there on the tip of my tongue. It flowed so easily. How many times have I said it? How long had I known him? And these memories I find so hard to recall—are they even real?

“Luciana...” Arielle called, pulling me out of my thoughts and back to reality. “Are you okay? You spaced out for a minute.”

I scanned the table and saw worry written on their faces. Even Jeremy's brows were slightly furrowed.

“I...I'm fine. You don’t have to worry,” I muttered hesitantly, staring at the glint from the glass.

“Are you sure? If you're feeling overwhelmed or uncomfortable, we can go home now. It's not a problem,” Arielle assured me.

I don’t know what took over me at that moment. All I heard next was my hands slamming hard on the table and a loud, “No,” escaping my lips that were meant to be sealed. Keira, Arielle, and Jeremy stared at me with a mixture of shock and confusion, as did a few other guests.

“I mean...” I started, slowly sitting back down. “I want to stay for the masquerade ball.”

They went from shocked to amused in a matter of seconds.

“You should have just said that,” Arielle responded.

“I love masquerade balls. They’re so mysterious,” Keira chirped.

“That's kind of the point, Keira...” Jeremy spoke, earning a long-awaited scoff. “May I have this dance, milady?” he inquired, piercing me with his intense gaze.

“I... would rather chew a jean jacket,” I uttered, smiling brightly before going toward the table filled with beautifully designed masks.

“You don’t mean that…” he mumbled, looking at Keira.

“She doesn't mean that.”

“She probably does,” Keira sighed.

“Probably,” Arielle echoed with a deep grin.

Keira saw that Arielle was still glued to her seat and couldn't help but ask, “You’re not coming?”

“I've had enough dancing for today; you guys go ahead. I'll be here when you're done.”

Keira and Jeremy met with me a while later. Keira instantly knew which mask she wanted to wear, and I was still indecisive. Jeremy didn't really get the whole purpose of a masquerade ball; he went on and on about how his incredible face shouldn't be hidden under a pretentious facade. And how people had just danced with each other moments ago, and most of their faces and the attire they had on would definitely be recognized regardless of the mask. Keira had to shut him up and place a mask on his face, after much resistance, of course. I was still looking for the right one to put on. I didn't know why, but picking the right mask felt important—very important.

“Here, try this one. It'll fit you perfectly,” Keira declared, handing me a white mask with runestones carefully placed around its edges and eyes. It was perfect. I put it on quickly, and Keira led us both into the hall.

People twirled and turned with absolute strangers. It was...well, strange, but oh, how incredibly beautiful. People would no longer judge by looks or status; people would no longer fight to be something they were not. All that mattered was who you were on the inside and, of course, how great of a dancer you were. The hall was dimly lit, but I could see that black mask from miles away. I quickly lost the people I came with in search of this mysterious Caspian.

It took a while before I could no longer hear Keira and Jeremy behind me. I was face-to-face with mystery in a room filled with masks and hidden identities. He took my hand, and we danced just like before. I still didn't know how or when I learned to dance; all I knew was that dancing with this man felt right. It felt like I had done it before, like I had done it a lot. The memories weren’t so vague now, and the faces weren’t as blurry. I was seeing him—actually seeing him. The music's tempo was slightly raised, and my train of thought made me stagger a little. I was bumped a few times by a handful of people, losing sight of the man I was with moments ago.

I scanned the room, but to no avail. I was ready to pull the blinds and head on home. Maybe he didn't want to be found; maybe he was just playing with me and my messed-up memories. I turned to see the gleaming black mask staring back at me. He took my hand yet again, not saying a word as we danced again.

“Who are you?” I questioned hesitantly, but not so much as a peep was said in response. The music slowed down a bit, and I just swayed with it, my eyes locked with his for a long while. He leaned closer, and I caught a glimpse of his deep, intoxicating eyes. Our noses touched, and then our lips. I was too enveloped in the kiss to notice that this was crazy. I took in a familiar scent and almost choked, letting go of the kiss as I cried, hoping it wasn't true.

“Duncan?”

He stepped back a foot and looked at me in disbelief before hurriedly leaving the hall. His dispersing figure revealed the man of the night. He looked at me with so much emotion that my heart stopped beating. This can't be happening. He disappeared in an instant, leaving me disoriented.

“Wait…” I called out, tears streaming down my cheeks. What's going on?

The sound of the clock left me almost paralyzed.

"It's twelve o'clock."