There would be no more personal talks. Armelle had no one in the world to listen to what she was feeling anymore. Christopher put a hand on her shoulder.
"Gosh, I know how much Dickon meant to you."
"How much did you read?"
"I swear, Armelle, I only read your last entry."
Armelle could see a piece of paper among the ashes that the fire had saved:
falling in love
"And, I'm sorry about this ball and everything," Christopher continued. "I didn't know you felt this way about me."
Armelle said nothing. Christopher understood. He softly closed the door behind him as he left.
As the day carried on, Armelle could think of nothing but Christopher. He would be mortified when he learned her story and that she couldn't bear telling him all this time. Once again, Armelle found the need to pack and leave.
But, maybe one more dance before she left.
She slipped on the silky gold gown in silence. The folds of the dress noisily rustled as she continued to dress herself. From the waist downward, the folds stretched down to her toes with constellation patterns in shimmering white stitches. What Armelle did not notice was the strip on the far right of the gown's back. There, the words "Bear Princess" was sewn in white stitches.
"Princess Eleanora of Frell!"
Christopher and Armelle exchanged no words. They simply greeted each other and danced. Sometime during the gavotte, he slipped a golden ring on her finger unnoticed. Then, he took her hand and led her to the porch.
"Eleanora," he began, looking down.
"Yes?" Armelle asked.
"I have something I must tell you."
"Yes?" Armelle stammered.
Is he -is he about to ...propose?