1. So This Is Love
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He twirls her on the cobblestones, and stumbles only a little bit when she treads on his toes.
"Sorry," she mumbles for the umpteenth time that night, cheeks burning. The soft strains of the waltz play on; the Prince recovers, sweeping her away from the fountain. He nods to the stars instead, and she'd really, really appreciate the silver beauty of the night more if she isn't so preoccupied with trying not to mess up.
She is, at least, grateful for the privacy of the courtyard; what if they were in the main dancing hall where she wouldn't even get a chance to go near the prince, and even if she did, well then everyone could see her dismal performance, like that horrible disaster with idiotic, stupid Sir Stephen, which was why she escaped to the sanctuary of the garden in the first place. And then...! The memory brings a fresh stab of embarrassment. To think the prince was there, that he saw her stumble out, all blubbering and mortified, and didn't turn away in disgust. To think he actually talked to her. To think he even tried to cheer her up. To think he even offered –
I can teach you to dance, on the condition that you never saw me here tonight, is that all right?
She was dreaming, wasn't she, only in her dreams everything started (and ended) perfect; she was perfect, the envy of every silly girl at the ball, who danced like a swan –
"Ow –"
"Sorry!"
"No, it's all right, this… agonizing pain… is a small price to pay for the miracle of dancing with such a lovely, enchanting, interesting, unique lady like you. Besides," he adds cheekily, "at least it's leather. Imagine if your shoes were made of glass!"
She can see the tease in his grin and smiles a little, despite herself.
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Hmmm... I'd like to flesh this universe out, if I had time. :D Maybe it'll happen.