A Quest To Woo the Prince

The royal ball was in full swing. The chandeliers above glittered with thousands of crystals, casting a warm, golden glow across the grand ballroom. The sound of violins floated through the air, mingling with the laughter of the nobles who swirled around the polished marble floor in an endless parade of silk and velvet. But Eleanor felt anything but elegant. She stood at the edge of the crowd, clutching her champagne flute as though it could somehow offer her protection from the storm of awkwardness brewing inside her. She still can't believe how many times she embarrassed herself in front of Adrian. 

Make Adrian laugh, the System's directive echoed in her mind like a broken record. She had tried. She had really tried.

First, she had attempted to engage him with a witty comment about the weather—how dreadfully hot it was for a winter evening. But he hadn't even acknowledged her, his eyes distant, unfocused. Then she had tried again, making a playful remark about how he seemed bored, to which he'd replied with a look of disdain, barely sparing her a second glance.

She was running out of ideas, and fast. The weight of the task seemed heavier with every passing moment. The System, of course, wasn't helping. Its voice was cheery and annoyingly upbeat, giving her the same, unhelpful encouragement over and over.

"Ding! Quest failed! Try again!"

That had been her response after her last attempt at humor, and she swore she could feel her dignity eroding with each failed attempt. She had to do something. If she didn't—if she didn't manage to make Adrian laugh before the night was over—then she might just be relegated to the ranks of the countless other forgettable noblewomen he barely acknowledged.

Her gaze flicked over the crowd, and her eyes landed on him. Adrian. There he was, standing across the room, the very picture of regal detachment. His icy blue eyes scanned the room with precision, and even from this distance, she could feel the cool aura around him, like a barrier she could never quite breach. He wasn't interested in any of the women vying for his attention tonight. They were nothing but mere flashes of color to him, a backdrop to his royal duties. But she…

Her stomach twisted. She was a puzzle. A challenge. She had to be. She had to prove that she wasn't like the others. Eleanor straightened, trying to calm her jittering nerves. Maybe this next approach would work. Maybe, just maybe, she could break through that cold exterior with the right words.

"Ding! New quest: Act unexpected."

Eleanor blinked. The System's suggestion sounded vague, but she took it as a sign that she needed to step up her game. She couldn't keep trying to play by the rules of normal court behavior. She needed to be… unexpected. She could do that. She could be bold.

'I can do this!' 

With a deep breath, Eleanor pushed her way through the crowd, keeping her head high as she made her way toward Adrian. As she approached, she was keenly aware of the eyes that followed her, the whispers from the nobles who were always keen to judge a duke's daughter.

She reached Adrian just as he was accepting a glass of wine from a servant. He didn't seem particularly thrilled by her approach, his lips pressed into a thin line. Eleanor hesitated for just a second, her nerves flaring up once more, but she squared her shoulders and forced a smile.

"Your Highness," she said, her voice light and casual, trying to play it cool. "It's such a beautiful evening, isn't it?"

He glanced down at her, his gaze cool, disinterested. "Indeed," he said, the word barely escaping his lips before he turned his attention elsewhere. His indifference stung, but Eleanor couldn't let it show.

Her mind raced for something to say—something to catch his attention, something to make him laugh. Act unexpected, she reminded herself. She couldn't just stand there like all the other ladies. She had to do something bold.

And then, as if the Gods of awkwardness had decided to throw her a bone, she noticed something. A small, decorative bench near the fountain on the far side of the ballroom was left unoccupied. It was silly, but something about the contrast between the elegance of the setting and the absurdity of what she was about to do sparked an idea. She smiled. 

Eleanor took one step forward, then another, making her way toward the fountain. Her heart pounded in her chest, but she kept walking, her mind telling her that she had no other choice. If she couldn't make him laugh, she might as well make a fool of herself.

As she neared the fountain, she turned back to look at Adrian, making sure he was watching her. His gaze was fixed somewhere in the distance, but she was certain he was aware of her. He has to be, she thought.

With a calculated breath, she reached the edge of the fountain, where a small stone ledge protruded above the water. A delicate, ornamental statue of a mermaid adorned the side of the fountain, its stone form glistening in the light. Eleanor, with a grin on her face, reached out to adjust the statue, pretending to struggle with its weight.

"Ugh, this is heavier than I thought," she muttered aloud, making sure Adrian could hear her. She gave it one more push and dramatically stumbled backward, as though the statue had somehow overpowered her. Her foot slipped on the stone, and before she could even register the sensation, she felt herself falling.

Then the world seemed to slow down at that moment as she flailed for balance, her arms windmilling through the air. The sound of her gasp seemed to echo as her body hurtled backward—toward the fountain.

Splash!

Water surged up, splashing high, drenching her from head to toe. Her dress—an elaborate creation of silk and lace—was soaked through, sticking to her skin as she tumbled into the water, her shoes sinking beneath her.

For a long, breathless moment, Eleanor sat there, completely stunned by her clumsiness. Her hair clung to her face, and water dripped from her gown, pooling around her in the fountain. She could feel every eye in the room on her, every noble, every lord, every lady watching in disbelief. She had never felt more ridiculous in her life.

'Gosh! I'm so dumb!'

But then, she heard it.

A faint chuckle.

It was low at first, a barely audible sound, but it was unmistakable. Eleanor turned her head toward the sound, her heart thudding in her chest. And there, standing at the edge of the fountain with his arms crossed, was Adrian.

His lips quirked up into a smirk, the first real expression of emotion she had seen from him all night. He didn't laugh outright, but there was something in his eyes—something that made her heart race. A hint of amusement, perhaps even intrigue. For the briefest moment, it was as if he hadn't entirely dismissed her.

"Well," he said, his voice smooth, his smirk widening. "I suppose that's one way to make an entrance."

Eleanor, still soaked to the bone, stared at him in disbelief. 'He sees me? And—he smirked?'

She could barely think as she struggled to stand up, the weight of the water-heavy gown dragging her down. She wasn't sure whether she wanted to laugh or cry, but before she could process her emotions, something else caught her eye.

A masked nobleman, standing a few paces away, was watching her intently. His gaze was fixed on her, his eyes sharp behind the mask. He didn't seem amused like Adrian had been—no, there was something far more calculating in his expression. His lips were hidden, but the way he tilted his head suggested a keen interest, a recognition.

Eleanor's heart skipped a beat. Was he watching her?

But before she could react, he turned on his heel and disappeared into the crowd, blending seamlessly with the other nobles. Eleanor's breath hitched. She couldn't shake the feeling that something was off.

Still wet, dripping from head to toe, Eleanor tried to push herself out of the fountain, her hands shaking from the embarrassment. But even as she struggled, her thoughts lingered on that masked noble—someone who might know more than he let on. But Eleanor shrugged her thought about him—she might have failed again, but at least Adrian showed emotion to her.