One Last Dance
The Princess of the royal Strawberry kingdom rushed to and fro preparing for the dance to come later that night. Her heels clicked on the polished marble floors of her castle while the hem of her pale pink dress danced at her ankles.
Tonight was the night. Tonight the Prince would choose his bride. The Princess's heart fluttered. Dare she even dream that he choose her? While she'd been an admirer of his for some time now, a part of her wondered if he would even take her.
To take her mind off of the festive mood surrounding her castle. The pressure that not only her but all those who served under her hoped she be chosen. She took a walk outside in the strawberry patch.
The day was sunny and warm. Clouds swirled dreamily in the air as she walked taking in the essence of nature. Her red-violet hair fluttered as a gentle breeze passed her by. Her eyes scanned what lay before her, a meadow of green, though an odd lump caught her eye.
The Princess wasted no time in moving to see what it was and upon closer inspection revealed an injured man. He wore a black cloak and an opal mask hid his face, yet the man moaned in agony. Something had was definitely wrong. The poor man lay sideways in a fetal position, and though the princess could not see his face, she imagined it pale and twisted with the pain his voice conveyed.
She rushed to his side and tried to help. The man turned to her and asked "Princess...?"
"Yes. Tell me what's wrong," She pleaded, trying to turn the man over so she may have a look at the wound. He didn't even budge.
"Don't bother, for I have been cut too deep. I can only wait for the blessing Death will bring to me. Oh, I pray he come swiftly," The man moaned. A tear rolled down the Princess's cheek. "There's only one thing that will help me. Would you... would you complete a task for me?" He begged.
"Anything," The Princess promised, feeling his pain welling up inside of her.
"You have to do it, you must accept..." He moaned clutching something hidden within his robes. "Please say you'll accept. That you'll do it and you won't go back on your word."
"I promise. I accept this task. What do you want me to do?" The princess replied, her words dripped with sadness.
The man pulled a scarlet cloth from his robe and handed it to the princess. Once her hands touched it a scream ripped from her mouth as it burned her fingertips. "Your task princess..." the pain had evaporated from his voice, a note of success in his rich tone, "when you go to the ball tonight, as the clock strikes midnight, you are to kill the Prince. Of course, your highness," his voice hinted at laughter. As though he thought her being a princess a joke "You won't take any notice. The knife is cursed and laid with poison. The curse ends when the sun rises, or when the blade drips with the Prince's blood."
She screamed and tears rolled down her cheeks, her hands burned. It hurt, it hurt horribly. "And should you try to go back on your word..." He laughed. It was a cold, cruel thing. "Then you will die, Princess." The fire flared in her hands and worked it's way up her arms. The world slowly faded, the man's laughter all that hung in the air.
"Princess! PRINCESS!" A maid called. The Princess jolted awake. It had all been a dream. There was never a knife or a man, it had never happened. However, when the Princess looked at her hands... they were marred. Burned, tounges of scarlet worked their way up from her fingertips to her elbow. She stifled a scream.
Incapable of speaking what had happened to anyone she was forced to be ready for the ball. A dark pink ball gown laced with ribbons of lighter shades of pink and crystal heels. A maid tied her hair in her trademark pigtails. She looked in her mirror. All saw a beautiful princess ready for the ball, but she saw a frightened girl in a dress with a scarlet handkercheif in her hands. She peered her own hands, which hung at her sides though that wasn't what the mirror showed. Glancing up again, the girl now wore a bloodthirsty smile and twirled a cruel, curved blade in her hands. The knife gleamed silver and flickered with a ghostly purple light.
I can't do this... She thought. The blade gleamed scarlet and the color also bloomed on her dress, right where her heart ought to be. The reflection's eyes danced with fire, but her own widened with fear.
The Princess could no longer escape the ball though she tried. Unable to even delay her departure she set foot in the carriage and made way for the kingdom. Her arrival was met with applause and cheers though the Princess could barely manage to bring a smile to her lips. She waved and feigned happiness, and danced with others. No once all night had she seen her beloved. And a real smile etched onto her face.
Someone tapped her shoulder and she turned smiling, for the night was going well. He heart both wanted to sink and leap into her throat. The Prince held out a hand a mischievous smile on his face, amber eyes twinkling. "May I have this dance, my Princess?" He asked. She wanted to tell him no. She wanted to scream, to run anything to get away, as far away as possible, from him. But she couldn't do it. Her mouth opened to protest, but her head moved of it's own accord, nodding mutely.
He kissed her hand and pulled her into a dance. She wanted to run, but at the same time she had never felt so wonderful. She was light as air in his arms, her feet moving fluidly and automatically from the music though her mind was far from the dance. Maybe she could dance with him. The curse didn't activate until midnight. She still had time, right?
When a clock finally moved into view her heart nearly leapt out of her body to dance on its own. She had three minutes. Hardly enough time. She summoned every morsel of her willpower and ran. She didn't look where she was going. Pain flared in her chest and she knew that by doing this she had sealed her fate. Someone was calling her. A voice that broke her heart. The Prince was following her.
The pain ebbed away, if he stayed on her trail she'd kill him. She ran faster hiking up her dress and moving away from the ballroom. She reached a set of stair when the clock striked midnight and she could feel the poison working its way through her, the curse coming into effect, as she moved farther and farther from the prince. She was halfway down when her heel snapped and tumbled down the rest fo the stairs.
Pain now flared in the rest of her body but it was numb compared to the fire in her chest. She knew that if she ddin't complete her task it would consume her. "Princess!" His voice echoed from the top of the stairs.
She stood and ran fast and far, leaving a husk of her broken shoe at the foot of the stairs. She didn't stop not until she was outside the doors, the gates, the property. She worked her way into a dark wood. No light faded through and a crescent moon hung in the sky above her. Tears stung her eyes and the pain became too much to take. She crumpled beside a large, gnarled, old tree and panted while crying in an awkward manner. Everything stung her eyes, her legs, her bare foot. Her dress had been torn to shreds by thorns no doubt making a trail of where she'd gone.
"So you didn't do it afterall. Tsk,tsk,tsk. I expected more from you, Princess," the voice belonged to the masked figure but when she looked up she saw the face of a royal. Dark hair and matching brown eyes. Tan satin skin and a blue coat. "Then again, I guess I shouldn't have. You were fool enough to come to the aid of a poor, cloaked man who wouldn't even show you his face. "You saved a Prince you barely knew. For what? Certainly not love. You don't even know him."
The Princess tilted her face up and glared at him. "What would you know about love?" The Princess gave him a look so cutting she half expected his face to break in cuts and bleed out. Oh, how she'd love to see him suffer as he'd done to her.
A though occurred to her. She pulled the knife from thin air and pointed the tip of the blade at his throat. She found a way to her feet and she pressed the flat of blade against his chest. He back against another tree and she had to catch her breath. Her breath had become erratic and raspy. It felt as though the air itself was shredding her throat and her lungs refused the air. "Give me... gi... give me.. one.. reason why... I... I shouldn't kill you... right now," She rasped hoping it sounded murderous with the little oxygen she was working with. He laughed.
"You can't kill me. That poison will have you dead in less than a minute. You might have had a little longer but you just had to go and push yourself," He said smugly. She raised her hand back ready to strike.
"Princess!" The Prince had come for her, he was weak and out of breath. In his presence with the knife raised she could breathe again. Against her will she whirled. And the next thing she knew he was bleeding on the forest floor. The poison left her system, her life had been spared, at the cost of his. The man laughed and the Princess finally did what she should have done earlier. She sent the knife right through his heart, he stopped laughing, then breathing.
She had just committed two murders, her hands, her face, her torso all were wet with blood, though none of it was hers. Despite all of this a smile worked its way onto her face and she giggled. Her giggles turned to laughter and she couldn't stop herself. She was numb to pain. The deed done she sank to her knees and look at the face the prince. His face was pale and drawn with shock, though he didn't appear to be dying. In fact, he started laughing as well. "Are... are you okay?" She knew it was a stupid question. Of course he wasn't okay.
"I'm perfectly fine. It's only a flesh wound," the Prince replied. She caressed his face, brushing his soft green hair behind his ears. "I never got to give this to you," he said. She wondered briefly what the Prince could have that belonged to her. He produced a velvety red ribbon, she'd lost when she was young. Why her best friend had been helping her look for it too and then he'd gone home. She hadn't seen him in years. She remembered his face. You couldn't miss him. He'd had green hair... and amber eyes.
"Kisshu!?" She asked, afraid of the answer.
He laughed. "So you finally remembered my name. It's been a long time, Ichigo." Tears of happiness welled in her eyes, until of course she remembered that he was bleeding to death on the floor.
"We have to get help!" She yelled jumping up but he caught her wrist.
"Really. I'm fine," He assured her. Ichigo fussed until she remembered something. The guy had said her curse would end when the sun rose or... or when the blade was wet with the Prince's blood. It had gotten wet with his blood. But this wound wasn't fatal. He was going to live! And so was she! Caught up in the giddiness of the moment she kissed him fully and passionately on the lips. She felt him give in and she honestly wasn't sure how long the two had stayed there kissing.
"There they are!" A guard called and Princess Ichigo's eyes fluttered open too see the royal guard surrounding them.
"So it was Count Aoyama who had ben trying to kill the prince. We should've figured that out," one guard shook his head at the corpse. The two stood with some difficulty and, hand in hand, walked toward the kingdom alongside the guard as the sun lazily made its way up from the horizon.