Not My Fairytale

Chapter 25

**Please continue to comment, vote and follow, it really means a lot!**

A Matchmaker

"So," Angelo said, leaning back against the trunk of the willow, legs crossed at the ankles and hood pulled down, shielding half of his face from view, "what exactly is a 'debutante'?"

I snorted, rolling my eyes, "Remind me to never share anything with you ever again. I always regret it."

He let out a snicker, tilting his head back until he could peek out at me from beneath his hood, unmistakable mischief swimming in the endless blue depths of his eyes. "Such cruel words from such a pretty mouth."

I harrumphed, but continued to nibble on the lemon cake that he had brought me. I had let slip one day nearly a month prior, in the weeks following our picnic in the wildflower field, that they were my favorite treat. Since then, he had taken it upon himself to ensure that I would never want for them again.

Alright, so maybe not everything I shared with him had been a mistake.

But, it felt good to tease him, Goddess knew I had endured more than my fair share of teasing at his hands in the few short months that I had known him. Some sick part of me had even secretly grown to enjoy it, though I would never admit it out loud for fear his head would grow too large for his neck to support. But, I had reluctantly come to realize that I would gladly face hours of his ceaseless goading if it meant getting to watch that playful spark take life in his bright eyes.

"So are you going to explain, or do you plan to torture me with the suspense?" There was still a hint of laughter in his voice, "It's a creative tactic, princess, I'll give you that, but with me gone, how do you plan to stay one step ahead of the Blood Fangs? Unfortunately my brothers don't share my weakness for fiery women, you may not have quite the same luck seducing information from them."

I huffed out a short, sarcastic laugh, but after the echoes of it faded out across the lake, I answered his initial question anyway, "Ancient humans would throw great events and balls when an upper-class woman came of age to 'debut' her to potential suitors. The women were called debutantes."

He removed his hood then, and sat up, watching my face as he always did when I spoke of humans. I continued, ignoring the intensity of his stare, "I was only kidding when I called it a debutante ball, officially my mother named it the Spring Ball, it's on the first Friday of every April," I reached out and plucked a stray blade of grass growing alone among the thick roots, rolling it between my fingers, "just between us though, I think the whole thing is only an excuse to play matchmaker. She invites nearly half the kingdom's youth into one building for a night, so naturally, quite a few people discover their mates there."

He tilted his head, "You don't sound like you like it very much."

"Very observant," I quipped, earning a smirk. "It's probably the most consistently wretched ball of every year."

"It can't honestly be that bad," he retorted, "dressing up in fine clothing, eating bite sized sweets, and dancing the night away."

"You like to dance?"

The smirk slipped from his lips, but the dimple on his right cheek remained. "With the right partner."

My gaze fell to my feet. What might it have been like, in another life, to dance freely with Angelo at a ball?

His hand reached out until his index finger was gently tilting my head back up, forcing me to meet his eyes. We stayed that way for a moment, just gazing at each other. He was searching for something from me, I knew he was, but I couldn't bring myself to care when it meant I had an excuse to gawk at him uninterrupted. His lips parted, as if he wanted to speak, but they snapped shut a beat later and he sighed, releasing my chin from his grip and effectively ending the moment.