You decide that the dress decision could wait a little bit. Ten minutes until Vanille would come running for your room and fifteen or so until the prince would start to wonder where you were. You quickly change into your normal clothes, or at least get out of the dancing outfit.

The sash was just left on the floor as you pulled on a plain dress without any special treatment.

Nine minutes till Hurricane Vanille struck. You smile. She was probably the only person around here who likes you for more than your dancing, it was…refreshing.

You take short, backwards steps out of the room and spun on your heel to face the door that lead up to your 'official' chambers. The one you had to be there in less than ten minutes or else the king and the rest of his officials will hear about your prince's little basement playground. You sigh, closing and locking the door from your studio area into the main room. Your feet carry you towards the door at the opposite side of the wall, completely forgetting that they were even aching just minutes before.

You pull at a string around your neck, get out the key. It was a very pretty key. A long, thin shaft with an intricate heart at the end. You take little time to admire it before slipping it into the keyhole, and opening the door. A gust of cool air rushed past your face. You instinctively breathe in deeply. It feels good to be reminded that a coolness can survive in an area of heat and desert.

The stairs creak under your weight. Your feet land in a practiced manner, as to minimize the noise they make. You snicker quietly to yourself. The idea that this cold passageway could stay hidden from not only the servants, but the older prince was ironic.

Two princes. Two leaders and sons of the king in this castle. But the older of the two virtually shunned the life of a prince, preferring to spend his days roaming anywhere and everywhere, playing around outside of the castle grounds, or just plain disappearing. It was odd actually, he always seemed to be stretched between the two worlds. Which was the opposite of his brother, who preferred to draw the outside in. The prince who lived in the moment, one who relies on this castle world to give him all of his desires. While it wasn't any better than his brother, the younger prince's preference gave you your job so there isn't much room for you to complain.

As you pick up the pace you notice the glowing crystals that had been in the cavern since you'd found it. Maybe you should bring one to the prince in case you were late? That'd satisfy his moodiness, at least for that instant in time.

You run your hand across the smooth stone, feeling for a loose rock. Your sensitive fingertips find one after a few more steps .

It is glowing like the rest but somehow it was different. It wasn't the color or the intensity of the glow, in fact it wasn't the glow at all that set it apart. The shape of the stone was actually the strange thing. It was perfectly smooth. Almost as if it had been chiseled out purposefully by someone just for you to find it.

You shrug. It's not as if it's extremely important at the moment. The important thing was being in your chambers before Vanille burst in with news about some local hubbub and such. It brings a faint smile to your face.

The last few steps loom into view. Only seven minutes left before you'd be at the door.

A sudden thought struck you. The stone was perfect. Something so perfect that even the prince, who rarely had an interest in anything, would enjoy looking at, and the air of mystery would at least keep him interested. Shrugging again you tuck the stone into a flap at the front of your dress, the stone can wait for further inspection. You continue going up the steps, five more left.

Four…

Three…

Two…

One.

As your hand reaches the doorknob you hear your other door swing open. A sudden panic fills you. Vanille is in your room and in a few seconds she'll –

"~~~~~! Where are you, I think you'll want to hear this!"

That. As if it wasn't already obvious who it was her slight accent gives her away. It wasn't much, but the slight stress on her 'a' and such make her sound semi-foreign. The accent is pretty cool to you.

"What is in Vanille? What's the hub-ub?" You grin when the words leave you, that is all that she needs to start a rant.

She jumps up from the doorway and plops down on your bed, not even asking for your permission before continuing on, "So you haven't heard?'

You look at her, "Nope, what is there to hear?"

"The prince snuck out again, not that that's anything new, but this time there was something interesting about him. One of the king's spies followed him out and discovered where he's been going all of this time. But that's not the weirdest part. When the spy tried to report to the king prince came walking into the room casually and just dumped a bagful of jewels at his feet, tipped his hat, and walked right back out. His majesty was so surprised he fainted!"

"No, I didn't hear that yet" I was busy dancing, "Where do you think he's been going?"

"I don't know! He's somehow been keeping it a secret, the spy person claimed memory loss too. I think he was bribed." Vanille flops all the way down on her back and starts to kick her feet at the air.

You can feel the corners of your mouth lift, she was probably your best castle friend. Or at least best friend that was unaware of your double life.

"So Nille, what are you going to do about this mystery?" You looked at her face carefully.

She cracked open her green eyes carefully. When she saw your eyes on hers she grinned, "We solve it of course!"

It shouldn't have been a surprise…her wanting to do something must have been a definite in any universe.

"Yup, we're going to do something completely awesome and watch as everybody else falls on their knees begging for our secret insights on the life of our prince!"

You snicker at her antics, sometimes she can be just too much for even your stand-offish exterior. But you guess she is used to it, after all one doesn't have an issue with non-responsiveness and be friends with Fang of all people.

There were a few 'plots' that she rambled on about for a few more minutes. One consisted of sneaking outside and following him, but you instantly reminded her that if she'd even think of trying it then the older prince wouldn't go where she wanted him to. He was notoriously good at telling when he was being followed.

A bell rings from outside the corridor. A groan punctuates the ending of the chime. Vanille pulls her legs up and starts to whine, "But I don't wanna go back to work. Work's legal torture."

The small whining noise at the end of her sentence brings up an unusual bubbly sort of laughter in your throat. After all, it's not every day you get to hear Vanille complain about something. She's normally pretty bright and sunny.

"Go on Vanille, wouldn't want her bitchiness to have dirty room, now would we?"

She groans again, "I don't want to though…" Sighing she pulls herself up from your bed and walks lethargically to the door. Her boots scrape against the large stone plates that lined the floor. She certainly looked like she didn't want to go. The scratches wouldn't be very loud to most people, but to you who is in the direct area, it was pretty loud.

With her short hesitant steps it took forever for her to get to the door, but when she did she spun around on her heel. That huge grin is back on her face. "See you later ~~~~~! Ciao!"

The door opened and shut within a few seconds. Always on the move that one. Quickly you calculate the remaining time you have. About…three minutes left. Good. It takes about one to get to your room down the stairs, and since sometime during Vanille's reveal of information you decided that the final dress, the one with two layers, butterflies and a corset was the one you wanted to wear. The one that the prince might just find disapproval in. While he had given loose specifications the skirt was a little on the high side.

You have some time to squander just laying down on your bed. It wasn't soft per say, but not hard by a long shot. It was still comfy. You lay your head down on the blanket, allowing it to clear momentarily.

Ah…just let it all go. A big blob of na-da is going through your mind. And man did it feel good to just have nothing happening.

If you could you would. Nothing would ever happen in your book, nothing but what you enjoy…no prince, no pressure, no dancing – wait, there'd still be dancing, that is your bread and butter, your cup of tea, the thing you enjoy, nah, that wouldn't go away…

A deep sigh escaped your lips. You wouldn't be surprised if you didn't have a single responsibility for the rest of the day with how peaceful you feel right now. It was almost perfection, almost – almost – almost

Your eyes widen. You have to be in the prince's presence in less than one minute!

Scrambling to your feet you race across the room. Your shaking hands clamber for the key around your neck. How could this have slipped your mind!

Your feet, normally so practiced at skipping the squeakiest stairs, seem to hit every spot that is bound to make not only a small squeak but a loud hiss and a groan under the pressure. The lights blur in your peripheral vision, your mind and the thoughts that are contained within it whirl around mushing together like soup.

Somewhere along the mad dash for safety you start to pull of your simple dress leaving you to continue sprinting in nothing but petty undergarments. But you find little energy to care that is not being used up at the moment.

You throw open your door, panting slightly. Your footsteps fall faster than they ever had in any dance, momentarily forgetting their practiced grace. When your frantic movements reach the wardrobe the doors fly open so quickly they seem likely to fall off from the shock.

You however pay this no mind. You are too focused on getting that stupid dress on, why did it have to be so tight!

You let out a groan. Fifteen seconds left!

Struggling for air, let alone time and speed, you dash off again in the direction you know the prince will be in.

Ten seconds. How could you have been so stupid to forget! Not only that but what possessed you to pick this dress again? It isn't very conducive for running that's for sure. (And the shoes weren't helping either…)

Six seconds. The door is nearing, and at quite the pace as well. If you weren't confident in your ability to stop at short notice you wouldn't have been running at that pace. But you are, so you do.

Two seconds. The door is feet away from you. And it won't be getting any closer unless those feet of yours keep moving! Skidding to a stop mere inches from the door you hold your failing breath. It helped you to get your erratic breathing under control before you grew used to such heavy regiments of dancing. Praying you are not too late and that your gaspings for air go unnoticed by everyone else, your hand grasps the knob and pushes inward.

The effect is instant. The heavy smell of various incenses waft into your nostrils. Laughter and groans filled your ears. And the sight that meets your eyes is a familiar one.

Rapid voices filled your ears while mouths moved around words you didn't really care about. Your eyes scan the room, look over the many people, the tables of filled with food, everything. The only chair in the room is empty, the place where the prince normally sat is empty.

Your frantic eyes look over every surface in hope of catching a glimpse of unruly black hair and an insufferable smirk with fancy clothes. Nothing could make you forget it, and nothing could make you more fearful.

"Yo ~~~~~, you're a full 17 seconds late. What held you up?" Oh, you knew that voice anywhere. The cocky tone, the proud air, and that something that made you want to both cringe and jump for joy.

You turn around slowly with some deliberation. Partially afraid of what you know you will find and partially because you are interested in just how mad he is sure to be, that expression of anger on his face is something that is almost worth suffering that is bound to follow. Last time you were forced to do a non-stop dance for about four hours. But man, was that shocked angry look priceless…

Either way when you turned around it wasn't anger that meets your eyes, but an almost smug satisfied look gazed back at you through golden yellow eyes, a hint of amusement sat on those slightly upturned lips.

"I apologize lord."

He made a sort of exasperated look and waved a hand, "See what you missed? And lord what miss ~~~~~? Lord amazing, lord awesome, lord splendid…"

His ego was one to be reckoned with. And not one to be trifled with.

"Lord Vanitas."

His face showed the emotion of triumph. The sound of feet shifting and the rustle of clothing is the only warning you have. He leaned down to your level. The prince, the frightening, wonderful prince whispered into your ear.

"You lack the proper respect to do anything more than be a dancer ~~~~~, you can be nothing more than a petty slave until you understand my lessons."

…

Wow...That speed was a fluke. I swear...Anyways here's the chapter. And now for the question: (There will be one at the end of each chapter)

How do YOU want ~~~~~ to react to that last statement? And what do you want the next dance theme to be? (The last one was Greek Statue…)