Inhale

Chapter 39 - Belle of the Ball

"Like her family? If they had to be someone of importance, that rules out government officials. The only ones left are members of the Royal Family and her maids," I brought it up. He looked at me, perplexed, and then burst into laughter.

"You have quite the imagination, malady," he chuckled, clutching his stomach. My eyebrows furrowed. "Why would the Royal Family kill someone of their own blood? That would be extremely inhumane."

"Aren't they extremely inhumane?"

"Malady, you should know that you shouldn't speak such slanderous words," he said, pressing a finger against his lips, "especially when you are in their presence."

"Their presence?"

"Look," he said, pointing at a lady standing on the balcony. There she was, Princess Viola in all of her glory. She was elegantly walking down the steps with a beaming smile on her face. She was beautiful in her own unique way, as her eyelashes were lacy and she was clad in a pretty pink gown. White glowing stars were attached to the train of her dress, which was held up by several servants.

"Princess Viola of Libentina, a seemingly pleasant, beautiful girl with an obsession with the color pink. After all, she's not known as 'Pretty in Pink' for no reason. However she has a dark secret and is allowed to murder anyone on any account of treason: whether they be true or not. That's the purpose of her darker nickname, 'the Rose Raven.' You wouldn't want to be sliced up by those blades over there, would you?" he asked, pointing at the blades that adorned the walls of the ballroom.

"No, I would not."

"She's looking this way. Act natural," he said. Then, he bowed to me and extended a hand as he asked, "May I have this dance, malady?"

Playing along, I smiled and accepted his offer by saying, "Yes, you may."

We danced together, or rather, stumbled together. It was evident that he was trained in ballroom dancing. However, me, on the other hand, had little to no experience. Let's just say that I didn't think I was going to dance. However, the teen didn't seem to mind. Instead, he placed his hand lower on my waist and led me along, smirking at the fact he was more adept than me. An urge to slap him aroused, but I dismissed it in order to pursue my disguise as a "sophisticated lady".

"It appears that she is no longer interested in us," he said, smiling down at me. Despite that, he kept his clutch of me, which was beginning to irritate me since I didn't fucking know him and he was hitting on me.

"It seems so," I said, faking a smile back, "by the way, which part of Libentina are you from?"

"I'm from the neighboring kingdom of Exsadille, malady," he sang, and then proceeded to spin me like a record.

"Exsadell?"

"No, X-A-D-I-L-L-E, Xadille. 'X' as in the letter, 'ah' as in 'apple,' and 'di-le' as in 'delivery.' Xadille," he sounded, and then spun me back into his arms to the point he was embracing me. Do I have rights against this? "Understood?"

"Xadille," I muttered, letting my thoughts stray. Xadille was the Kingdom to the south of Libentina. Despite that, the country was still far away from here, since we were in the northern part of the Kingdom. In that case, why did he travel so far? I can imagine someone from Quesquece or Yvienalle. But Xadille? This event must be extremely fulfilling for him to come here.

"Why are you here, sir?"

"Xadille's attendance was requested by Princess Viola. As people who would never refuse a request an ally, we accepted unlike Libentina's other two allies. However, I'm sure more would have came if they knew Libentina had such beautiful women," he teased.

"Oh, you're trying to humor me, sir," I said, gritting my teeth through my smile, "you're too kind."

"Actually, to be quite frank, I never knew someone as beautiful as you could exist... if my brothers saw you, they would've fought for your affections. Actually, you should come to my mother country so we can display your beauty to the public since obviously, you aren't appreciated here," he said, pulling me in tighter to the point we were pressing against each other. His hand, which lay on my waist, began to lower. Unamused by his actions, I grimaced. I don't like where this is going. "You could live with me. I'll send off all of my mistresses, since they cannot compare to your beauty. Then, I'll fight for the position of king so you can be my queen. If not queen, then my incomparable duchess of Xadille," he stated, and then tried to nuzzle his nose against my cheek.

Uncomfortable with his closeness, I pushed his chest away and stated awkwardly, "My, you are quite the charmer, my Lord—I simply don't know what to say."

"Say that you'll come with me. That's all I want from you," he said, as we stopped right in the center of the room. He held my hands, and I tried my hardest to avoid gazing on him. Due to that, I noticed that we had captured the attention of almost everyone. Including Princess Viola, who was obviously not pleased. Great. I've always wanted the center of attention.

"You want to escape the Civil War, yes? If you leave with me, you will be safe forever," he trailed, and my heart felt heavy as he continued, "and be mine forever."

"But we just met," I retorted, trying to hold in my disgust. A delicate, polite lady—I need to be that.

"And my love for you is strong and undeniable. I would be pained if you were to be hurt by distasteful rebels," he stated. "Distasteful rebels"? Well, I wonder what he'd say if he knew I was one of those "distasteful rebels".

"You don't even know my name!"

"What's in a name? All I know is that you are perfect for me."

"I'm engaged!"

"I do not see a ring on your finger. Also, it's probably to a man who does not appreciate you for your beauty and grace."

"We have nothing in common!"

"You love art—I love art. You're beautiful—I'm handsome. You're submissive—I'm dominant. You deserve the very best, and I do believe I am the very best a woman can get," he claimed. Did he seriously just call me submissive? And call himself the "very best"? However, before I could let my rage overcome me, someone's rage overcame them. In an instant, someone pushed the boy away from me. I turned, to see none other than Phil standing before me. He was fuming and his nostrils were flaring. "Furious" was a complete understatement at this point as a mixture of rage, frustration, and disgust was evident on his typical cheery face. Along with the tint of his cheeks, his eyes were a dead give-away of his emotions.

"Unhand my wife, good sir."