The Deadly Trials

26 | Dance

    Eika smiled. She gestured for the servants to clear the table. She gathered her own dishes, helping them but remaining within earshot.

    "So. Whaddya do with the Royal Bore?"

    I scowled at the smirk on his face. "Nothing happened. It wasn't like that, Jack."

    He snorted. "Right. Maybe the real reason you're stayin' is 'cause of him."

    "Jack!" I called after him. "It's not like that!"

    I was only willing to admit that there, in the meadow, the Prince was more attractive than usual. But Sirene was the type of place to make anything look beautiful. Otherwise, there was nothing between us except a burgeoning friendship.

    My skin tingled with the memory of his gloved hand holding mine. I grunted and shook my head. It wasn't like that. It couldn't be like that.

    "What are these, Belline Paris?" Eika stroked the tarlatan of one of my leotards. "They look like outfits for performances. Do you perhaps perform?"

    My heart and muscles ached. It had been so long since I'd last danced.

    "I do. I've been dancing ballet for most of my life. It's my everything. I'd love to open a dance studio and teach others when I'm older."

    An arrow struck my chest. That dream was far enough away with college as an obstacle. Now it was even farther.

    "You dance," Eika said with a smile. "It would be wonderful to see you perform. The Prince especially would enjoy it."

    I pursed my lips. "Really?"

    She turned to put my clothes in the armoire. "To host a performance in these castle walls again would bring much light. And I cannot think of anyone who needs more light than he."

    Dancing did bring joy and brightness. To me anyway. And that sort of happiness was contagious.

    With the darkening climate of Eternity and her people, performing might help. The King had mentioned earlier that I had already brightened this planet. And Eika was right: Prince Rune needed brightening too.

    "Maybe," I said, chewing on the hem of my sweater, "maybe I could dance for him."

    The Prince leaned against an open window, a breeze ruffling his hair. His eyes appeared distant, his lips pressed in a taut line.

    I sidled up beside him and cleared my throat. I kept quiet, as though not to disturb the current atmosphere. "What are you thinking about?"

    He said, voice low, "The past. And what are you thinking of?"

    I released an uneasy chuckle, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear. "Um, actually, I'm thinking about you."

    He blinked, the distance in his eyes snapping away. He quirked a brow. "I am hardly a worthy subject of thought."

    I flashed him a lopsided smile. "Yeah? 'Cause I find you an absolute mystery."

    "And is that a charming quality?"

    I laughed. "Not exactly."

    "Ah."

    Eternity was motionless beyond the window, beyond the castle gardens. The leaves and flowers didn't even rustle with passing breezes. Eternity could have been a mere painting, the product of an artist's imagination.

    Flashes of the deadly trials collided in my mind. Was it possible to return the Competition to its original intention? Or was getting rid of it outright the best solution?

    "Could you abolish the Bride Competition?"

    He glanced at me from the corner of his eye. "As prince, my legal authority is quite limited. Although, I could persuade my father if I so chose. Why do you ask?"

    My brows knitted together. "Don't you think the Competition is too much as it is right now? Couldn't you change it?"

    "We cling desperately to our traditions," the Prince murmured, "and perhaps turn a blind eye in a twisted plea for change."

    "If you want the trials to change too, then why don't you do something? What's stopping you?"

    He didn't answer for a long time. He just stood there, staring out the window and gripping the sill. I was about to sigh and change the subject when he whispered, "I was lonely."

    My eyes widened. "What?"

    Barely audible, he said, "I was lonely. My father is not the companionate type. My mother is—" he took a sharp inhale — "gone. The Competition seemed the only guarantee to assuage this feeling."

    Prince Rune and I locked gazes. "Loneliness is a powerful, yet wicked, motivator, maiden."

    My heart sank to my toes, heavy and hurting.

    To exist in this castle, alone, was almost unfathomable. He had witnessed the incarceration of his own mother, for her crimes against his home. He grew up by himself, his only company the hope that the Bride Competition would provide a companion for him.

    "And it failed," I breathed, eyes misting. "The Competition failed, when it never had before."

    Had I been in his position, I would have left the Competition as it was — out of loneliness, out of desperation, out of a dim sense of hope.

    He nodded once. But his eyes held a dancing gleam as he said, "Until you."

    Butterflies took flight, my stomach tumbling. I let out a jittery chuckle. "Right. Until — yeah — I — ha — yeah."

    The Prince turned back to the window, hands clasped behind him. He stood taller, not lost in the past.

    I swallowed. "Have you — have you ever seen someone dance?"

    "No. Why? Do you dance?"

    "Yeah. Ballet."

    Now he faced me, tilting his head. "If it is not too forward, I would like to see you dance."

    I shook my head, ignoring the somersaults in my gut. "It's not too forward."

    He lowered his head as though to peer at me through his eyelashes. "Will you? Dance?"

    "Yes."