The Ghost of a Prince

Chapter 15

Emrys glanced at the floor where someone had dropped a cup full of wine. With a flicker of his finger the floor was clean, and the cup was on the table, "If you wanted me to know you would have told me." he shrugged.

Morgana laughed. "Don't be so sour, dance with me Emrys." she pleaded, extending her hand towards him.

"I do not dance, Morgana."

"I don't care about that, come on, Emrys." she smiled warm. Emrys sighed taking her hand. One dance couldn't hurt.

She led him to the dance floor. They got in position for the dance as the music began, it was a rhythm much slower than the one she and Lancelot had partaken into. He could still recognize the dance, the steps etched in his memory as many dances had been.

His hand barely graced Morgana's, and making a respectful bow to one another, the dance began. They stepped away and towards each other back and forth. They only broke apart for their shoulders to touch as he put his hand just close enough to her waist to make it seem like if there was any contact.

"I won't wither if you touch me, Emrys." she mumbled, her tone teasing. He glanced at her, her dark skin glowed against the light of the candles.

"Is for my own protection, I don't know what you might have caught while you were away. You could be poisonous now for all I know." he scoffed, glancing at one of the couples dancing next to them. They laughed at each other when he stepped in her foot.

"You didn't care too much about that when we hugged yesterday." her tone was teasing.

"Yesterday I was too overwhelmed by the stench you emit; I even had forgotten how dreadful your presence was."

She laughed but didn't retort anything back.

He somehow found himself smiling.

Emrys took Morgana's hand and lifted it above her head letting it go and allowing it to go down as the same time as his to push her away and give her just the pull she needed to spin. Morgana returned to his side and they raised their hands enough so their fingers were brushing and he could feel the warmth of her hand. They took a step back. Their hands lowered and his ended on her waist, it was bold out of him. She was nearly hanging of his right hand. The air got stuck on his throat as her hair brushed past him.

With his hand, he pulled her until she was in front of him, looking up at him. Their hands once again raised, as they stood dangerously close to each other while they turned. They joined both hands. With each step they took back, the next one took them closer. Each time, Emrys felt the air stop in his throat and his heart skip a beat. He noticed how she smelled like lavender and lemongrass.

He then, felt her close, and lowering his eyes he noted how their noses nearly touched, but Morgana pulled away. His heart thundered in his chest and a small part of him told him he shouldn't feel as ashamed about it as he did. He, despite the clarity in his brain, and how beautiful she looked, had to remind himself that she was nothing but a dear friend. A friend he had searched up and above for, but now that she was back she somehow felt different.

When the music came to a halt, they were as close as they had been a few moments ago. They broke apart, a soft smile on her face and his lips pressed in a line to prevent the smile on his. He wondered if her heart was thundering just like his was. The feeling wasn't entirely unfamiliar, he could still vividly recall leaving flowers he had grown himself on the doorstep of the palace's kitchen and praying the right girl would pick them up. These feeling, however, was different, stronger, and made him feel lightheaded.