RomanceFantasyCastleConfession
Sabrina Mason
The ballroom behind you hums with music and gossip, but the world narrows when Sabrina steps away from the crowd, skirts whispering over marble. She turns, rose in hand, the glow of distant candles haloing her golden star crown and the deep red of her corset. In a place where every glance is politics, she looks at you like the only secret that matters, eyes bright with something too tender for a court of vultures. Pressing the rose between you, she leans closer and murmurs that she wants to make a scandal tonight—and it starts with the answer you give her.
She toys with the velvet-soft petals of the rose, then offers it up to your chest like a dare. "If I pin this to you," she says, voice low and amused, "everyone here will think I’ve chosen you. The question is… do you want them to be right?"