𝚂𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚍 ✔

Chapter Thirty-Four

"I'll see you tomorrow." Henry whispered. His features were hardly illuminated by the warm glow the candle in his hand cast throughout the dark corridor.

We had come to a stop just outside the secret door in the wall that led to my new apartment. It amazed me how such unassuming passages weaved through the entirety of the massive structure, and that only the King and Henry knew of them.

"Yes, of course." I shyly muttered, then realized he was talking about the Ball and not coming to see me personally, "There cannot be any dancing between the two of us."

"I cannot promise that." He smiled, the flame dancing in his eyes as he stared back at me. "I finally understand why people dance and now I do not wish to just simply watch."

"It does not have to be with me." My face flushed. "There will be loads of others in need of such a find partner."

"Oh, but it does." He shook his head playfully. "I shan't dance with anyone else. You are the only person I feel comfortable enough to dance with." He nervously looked away, "The others, they'll force me into awkward conversations, and I'd prefer to avoid those when I can."

"Understandable. However, you are not considering how it would look." I chewed on my lip.

"And how would it look?" His eyes came back to meet mine, only to find their way down to my lips.

"Dangerous." I breathed, cheeks flushing at the thought of him pressed against me as we floated across the dance floor, faces mere inches from one another. I cleared my throat, "People would start to suspect that we know one another more than we should."

"But we do." The silence of the corridor was deafening as our breaths were the only thing to be heard between words.

My heart started pounding, and I just knew he could hear it for it was all I could hear myself.

"Not like how they would assume." I choked out, trying to not let the embarrassment take me.

He went silent for a moment then his eyes widened. "Oh!" He awkwardly laughed, cheeks turning pink as he ran a hand across the back of his neck. "I see. Then we will just have to dance at the next one."

"Or you will have to dance with someone other than me." I reluctantly suggested. "That way it breaks the pattern."

"Perhaps." His features softened, then turned to unlock the door, "Anyway, you must go. We have spent far too much time chatting as it is. Hopefully no one has noticed your absence."

"Cordelia has, there is no doubt about that." I chuckled, "Goodnight, Henry."

The lock clicked and he gently pushed open the door, "Goodnight, Emma."

I walked through, leaving him in the hardly lit darkness. Just before he closed the wall up behind me, we met eyes once again and my heart fluttered. He flashed me a smile, then he was gone.

I stood there with a stomach full of butterflies and a silly little grin on my face. The curvature of his plush lips, the flutter of his long lashes and the way his mouth parts when he smiles all running rampant in my mind. I replayed every moment of the encounter in my mind, flushing at things I hadn't noticed in the moment or smiling until my cheeks went numb over the simplest touch.

I felt alive. I felt so warm and giddy.

Then it all hit me. How dangerous what we had just done was, how awfully it could have ended if we let ourselves lose sight of reality and just how angry Thomas would have been if he found out.

"Thomas." I mumbled.

My mouth started sweating again, and the sickness I had felt before meeting Henry returned. The shock of his reappearance had worn off and the quick reprieve from the impending panic attack had come to a swift end.

I snatched up the ornate bedpan that sat next to my new bed and proceeded to heave, over and over straining every muscle in my neck and eyes, only water and acid escaping.

"Emma?" Cordelia yelled, "When did you get-oh dear. . ." Her face dropped once she noticed the state I was in.

"I-" I tried to speak through the retching, but it only made things worse.

"I see why you did not arrive with the others." Her voice softened as she made her way towards me, "It was too much for you, wasn't it."

I nodded. A bead of sweat rolled down my face as I desperately tried to breathe. "I almost. . . made it here."

She went silent for a moment as she gently ran a hand across my back, "Are you sure you will be able to attend the ball tomorrow?"

"I. . . I have to." I shook my head, "I have no choice."

I could see the pain in her brown eyes as she reluctantly replied, "Okay."

After my nerves stabilized and the sickness had ran it's course, I went into the wash room to clean my face. When I returned Cordelia stood at the foot of my bed with something in her hands.

"This came for you." She reached out and offered me a letter.

I took it, immediately recognizing the wax seal. "The Queen?" I mumbled, "Not even an hour has passed since we arrived."

"Perhaps its just a reminder about the ball tomorrow." She tried to reassure me, but we both knew what the letter was going to say.

"If only." I sighed, then popped the seal and begun reading.

     "Miss Beckett,

       I have sent Mrs. Dansbury to escort you and Miss de Marre to my court at once. I hope the two of you will be able to shed more light on the situation surrounding the attack and the events that transpired during its duration.

     Come with honesty and poise, or do not come at all.

    -Your Queen"

A knock resonated through the receiving room, startling both Cordelia and I. "It's like she knew I had finished reading it." I muttered, handing the letter back to Cordelia, "I will be back."

"Will you be alright?" The sorrow and worry in her eyes only made me feel heavier.

"I will have to be." I embraced her quickly, then made my way through the new apartment to meet Mrs. Dansbury.

I did not want to recall what had happened. I did not want to lie. I just wanted to pretend it had not even happened at all and continue on with life. But it did happen, and there was no way to avoid the conversation to come.

I needed to defend myself against her preconceptions and squash any doubt she may have had in me.

And if I had managed to do all of that, then I would have had to confirm to her that I was in fact not broken. That I was still capable of competing, of loving her son.

Something I was not even sure of myself.

I opened the door, swallowing all of my fears and exhaling my nerves.

"No more attacks." I mentally demanded, "No more weakness from this point on. I cannot afford to let everything I've ever wanted slip through my fingers just because I'm scared. I am better than this, stronger than this. I cannot let them win."

"Shall we?" Mrs. Dansbury turned to face me.

Sheera stood to the right of her, nervousness written all over her bruised face.

"We shall."