A Fairy Tale Like No Other

A Fairy Tale Like No Other - Thirteen

            “I need to be strong for this,” he told himself sternly, and with a heavy heart he closed his dorm and headed for the dining hall.

            Diane was looking up at the star spangled sky. It was so breathtaking and so rare a sight in a December night, especially Christmas Eve. The stars rarely show themselves during December at Riverdale Valley, as the skies were on a constant cover of snow clouds. She was looking at it with wonder… and loneliness.

            “I wonder how Troy’s doing…” Diane muttered sullenly to herself. She was sitting on a stool out on the terrace on the second floor of her home, always wondering the same thing over and over whenever she finds time to sit by herself outside. In front of her was a warm mug of hot chocolate. She sighed heavily.

            Ever since the day she came home, Troy’s face was forever etched in her memory. His face that day was smiling happily yet behind it was a sad feeling that always smote her heart deeply. How deeply she had regretted it to have left him alone in that dorm they now called their home. But things were already done and she could do nothing but sigh and wonder.

            Soft footsteps were coming closer behind her, and Diane’s father tapped her lightly on the shoulder.

            “Could you come with me for a moment?” He asked.

            Deeply curious, she followed her father to his private study. The esteemed wine connoisseur went to his desk and pulled out an elegantly rolled paper Diane recognized at once as the invitation for the Spencer Academy’s annual Christmas ball.

            “We were rummaging for your dirty clothes one day, and we found this,” Diane’s father said. “We opened it to find that it was an invitation to the Christmas ball at your school.”

            “Uh… yes it was…” Diane said, averting her eyes from the inquisitive gaze of her father. “But I planned already to come home before it was announced so…”

            Diane’s father continued to gaze upon his daughter’s aversive face. He knew at once what it was.

            “Prince Troy asked you, didn’t he?” Mr. Edwards asked. Diane merely nodded.

            Mr. Edwards laughed softly.

            “Funny is this thing called love,” Mr. Edwards was reminiscing. “It always seems to know what the heart always yearns for, and, by my reckoning, you yearn for the arms of your love, is it not?”

            “But father,” Diane countered. “It’s the only time in the year where I can come home, and the next time would be in summer, and those are the only times that I can come home to see you, mother, and all the workers here to celebrate.”

            Mr. Edwards embraced his daughter.

            “Diane,” he said with fatherly affection. “For so long you have devoted your care and love to us, and we are grateful for that, but you have to save some for yourself to share it to another person one day; a person whom you will love as a part of yourself. Right now, someone else is in need of you, and he’s back at the school waiting for you.”

            Diane looked up to her father.

            “I don’t have any dress…” She pointed out, but her father was already ahead of her.

            “We already had one for you,” he informed her happily. “We asked the best seamstresses among the wives of the workers here to make your dress.”