Masked Love

Masked Love 5

Prince Jacques held out his right hand with wasn't covered with no gloves. "Well?"

I heaved and sighed. I sure didn't want to dance with him four nights and what could one measly, little dance do? I sighed in defeat but I couldn't stop my body from little shivers of excitement when our hands touched. Though I was wearing gloves, that didn't stop currents of tingles run through my fingers and into my flesh, leaving me frigid and breathless. He held onto my hand with a firm but gentle grip while I forced my head to drop low.

Yes that would tell people "woe is me". Prince Jacques led me from behind the stairwell but I lifted my head to catch Tristan's expression. His face was hardened with stone-like features even if he was wearing a mask and his lips were pulled back in a half scowl, half grimace. Irritation was lit up on his face. I gave him a wan smile, one he did not return and all hope for a true friend vanished in me. All because of the special, spoiled, self-centered Prince Jacques.

People parted for us and instead of expected awe, quizzical glances were thrown all across the room. Maybe wondering where was Paris, the more attractive, attentive, bright Paris, not that I thought she was bright.

Prince Jacques led us to the center of the ballroom, where the crowd formed a sea of a circle around us. He turned back on me, pulling himself in dancing position, his clasping my right hand but instead of his hand pressing on my hip, it found itself snaking around my waist. I gasped in surprise as he leaned down, his face inches from mine. His fit body pressed against mine, his body heat rubbing off on me. I breathed quickly before losing it altogether. No boy has ever been this close to me, well no boy that wasn't my boyfriend.

I didn't realize there was no music until a modern violin orchestrated song started to play. I looked down at my feet, it barely visible since his body was blocking my view. I wasn't going to look up. Don't look up. Don't look up. Don't look up. He started to lead the way, moving back, then front, to the side, to the other side and back the way we started, going in full circles.

Blackmail. Yes, that's what he used on me. I shuddered in disgust. Who could be so manipulative? Apparently the Prince, because he thought me diminutive and weak, with no type of say in anything. I wondered if thought was how the King thought of the Queen like that? The Queen seemed pretty wise and smart and maybe I would get to meet her. Something about her intrigued me. My back was to her so there was no way I could turn around and look at her without turning to catch the Prince's eyes.

I didn't know the Prince was leading to the far off right, leading towards the steps until he climbed up the first step and practically carried me with him. Wow, he was pretty strong for a Prince.

He continued up the stairs, carrying me up by the waist and when the song ended, we at the top of the stairs, where polite clapping greeted the bottom. Prince Jacques smiled down at them, I saw from the corner of my right eye. After the clapping ended, the regular music resumed and the gaps in the crowd filled up again. I looked to the side to see the King and Queen watching me with mild interest, sparks igniting in the King's royal blue-amber eyes while a nonverbal warning shown in the purse of the Queen's lips. Before I could shake my head though, Prince Jacques pulled me into the shadows and deep into the hall that stood waiting.

Jack(click on external link for music)

I watched for her awhile and I followed her gaze which led to the King and Queen, whereas the King watched her with interest and the Queen with distaste. Maybe more me than her. I carried her into the hall, where the lights were off, the Queen requiring we save energy.

Isabella struggled against my hold with feeble attempts on getting free. I led her down the long corridor, making a sharp turn to the right. What was I doing? Taking a girl against her freewill when she clearly did not want to be with me. Wasn't I supposed to be playing pretend-as-the-good-guy? She was probably thinking otherwise but I just had to be with her. She chose to dance with me because she didn't want to dance with for four nights. Yes. I was going to take advantage of this night. Our night.