The moment everyone noticed he was holding the hand of a girl, the whole ballroom seemed to shush, all the guests turning to look at him. He smiled pleasantly back at them, firmly holding on to the girl's hand. He could feel her trying to squirm free of his hold, and he tightened his grip.

The orchestra started playing a different song now – an old waltz. He could remember the steps like he remembered the back of his hand, and he led the strange girl to the centre of the floor, getting into position with his left arm outstretched and his right hand placed against the small of her back. Reluctantly, she placed her free hand on his shoulder, and so the dance began.

At first, for a while, as was custom, the prince led the dance. This girl who claimed to be called Cinderella was a good dancer, and she kept up with him easily, which impressed him somewhat. Slowly, gradually, she started to relax – her fingers no longer dug quite so painfully into his skin, and a slow smile crept over her face. One by one, other couples came to join them on the floor, and when it was crowded enough, he decided that he should be able to talk to her without anyone else overhearing them. There was enough gossip floating around regarding him finding a fiancée at the ball – he especially did not want people to assume that there was anything between him and this girl simply because of the topics they might possibly be discussing.

The girl looked like she was enjoying herself. "So you like dancing then, Cinderella?" the name rolled easily off his tongue, and he smiled, amused. She glanced up at him at the sound of the name, her own smile wiped off her face. In all honesty, he was glad that he ran into this girl tonight at the ball. He was entirely prepared to last through three nights of pointless small talk and cordial greetings with girls who interested him not the slightest. He did not know of this particular girl's intentions yet, but her attempt at distinguishing herself from the other girls was entertaining enough in itself. He wanted to know what else she would come up with.

"Somewhat," she answered carefully, saying nothing else. He observed her, with her pink-tinted cheeks and the fierce green eyes he could see, glaring out at him from underneath her mask. Another thing that interested him was how she did not seem to grovel before him for his attention. It was surely a facade – maybe she thought that would interest him more – but sadly, he had to admit that it was working. It was the first time a girl had shown a lack of interest in him, after all. Even if they did not find him extremely handsome, girls flocked to him due to his status as royalty. It was a bitter thought to consider, knowing that the aristocracy saw him as nothing but a ladder to climb in society.

"Only somewhat? You could fool me. A lovely girl who can dance so well must surely enjoy dancing with a passion," he answered slyly, and she did not answer, simply averting her gaze and concentrating on the movements of her feet. The mask she wore looked somewhat like his, he noticed belatedly – where her mask was pure white, his was jet black, though they both had the same crystal shaped teardrops at one corner of the mask. "Perhaps we got our masks from the same vendor," he pointed out casually. "They look rather similar, don't you agree?" at which she simply nodded. He wondered if she really was not interested in speaking with him, or if she was just playing hard to get. He hoped it was the former, because he would like to rise to such a challenge.

She was a beautiful girl. For all his claims of not being interested in women at the moment, her beauty was not something he could deny. He would bet that underneath that mask, she was absolutely stunning – one could tell by the pout of her lips and the long eyelashes he could just barely make out underneath the mask, that this girl was probably very feminine in her appearance. Her long hair – teal, a rather strange colour but still very enchanting – was twisted up in a simple bun, which he liked much better than the ridiculously intricate hairstyles some of the other girls were wearing. One girl he greeted earlier, younger than him, had been wearing a horribly garish ruffled pink dress which looked heavy and difficult to walk in, and wore her bright red hair in a thick mass of braids that combined to form some warped kind of beehive. It was abhorrent, but being the prince he was, he tactfully said nothing about her strange appearance, merely wishing her a good time at the ball. He had already forgotten that girl's name…and the names of most of the others too.

"I do wish you'd take off this mask for me," he leant close to her during a particularly slow dance, whispering into her ear. Up till that point the both of them had not said anything, and if it wasn't for the fact she was still moving her feet he might have thought she had fallen asleep. She jumped a little at the suddenness of his words, leaning subtly away from him. She seemed uncomfortable.

"And why would you want me to do that, prince?" she asked. "This is a masquerade ball, isn't it? The fun of the night will disappear the instant the masks are taken off our faces," she was smart and came up with a good response to his words, rather than just laughing and tittering like most other aristocratic girls would. He found that refreshing. "I might take off my mask if you take yours off," she suddenly suggested boldly, mirroring what he told her earlier in the evening. He laughed quietly at her idea.

"But like what you said, the magic of the night will dissolve the moment I take my mask off. Besides, don't you already know what Prince Romeo looks like?" he used the name mockingly. Most of the people in the kingdom either did not know his real name, or forgot what it was. Romeo was, after all, so much catchier than Kagamine Len. His real name was a mouthful to pronounce, so Romeo became his trademark, though he disliked being known by that moniker. It was difficult to change the mind-set of the people, however, so after a while he just gave up trying to get people to call him by his real name. The palace servants, however, were strictly forbidden from calling him Prince Romeo.

"No, I don't," she answered, much to his surprise. It surprised him even more that he did not suspect her of lying, but she sounded genuine. "I was raised in a faraway land," she explained, "and I only came here recently, to live with my aunt. She received the invitation to your ball and asked if I would like to attend as well. I agreed, so here I am," she sounded uncomfortable again. "I can safely assure you that I know very little about you, other than the fact you're a prince, so it makes me wonder why you chose to dance with me, of all girls. There are many other ladies still awaiting their turn to introduce themselves, and perhaps have a dance with you as well," she said delicately.

"But they do not interest me," he replied just as delicately. He watched her lips press themselves into a grimace, secretly amused by her reactions to what he said. She was entertaining, and most unlike many other noble ladies he knew. That was probably explained by her being raised in a different land – perhaps they had different customs for interacting with royalty, but he was secretly glad that she was not stiff, formal and nervous like so many people were when they spoke to him.

He was beginning to take quite the shine to her. His father's words ran through his mind – he ought to find a companion, if not a lover. At least someone whom he could talk to, and wasn't one of the castle servants. Then perhaps he would not be so lonely, and maybe he would pine a little less, though he wasn't really sure if he wanted to stop pining yet. "Cinderella, if that is really your name," he started, "I do tire of dancing. Would you like to walk in the rose gardens with me?" he smiled charmingly at her, hoping that his smile would be able to coax the reluctant girl into spending more time with him. "The roses are in bloom now, and the garden smells lovely. It is a rare opportunity to take a look deeper into the palace grounds," he added, surely a boon for a foreigner like her.

She hesitated. The two of them had stopped dancing now, and as the orchestra switched to a song with a fast tempo, the dancing couples around them picked up the pace too, swirling and turning around them. They were like the eye of a tornado, the calm in the centre of the maelstrom. She looked up at him, and he wondered what she was thinking – he was usually pretty good at guessing the thoughts of other people, but with the mask in the way, he had no idea what was going through her mind. He hoped she would say yes, because it was true that he did tire of this ball and wanted to get out and enjoy some peace and quiet. Finally, she nodded, though she still looked somewhat suspicious.

He took her by the hand and led her out of the ballroom. Gumi, who was stationed outside the ballroom doors, looked quizzically at him as he led the mysterious girl outside, but he put a finger to his lips and she nodded, glancing at the masked girl curiously. He honestly still did not believe she was called Cinderella, but until she was willing to divulge her true name, that was what he would use to refer to her by. "Tell Father that I'm with someone, if he happens to ask," he said quietly to Gumi, who nodded and simply waved him on his way. He smiled, tugging the girl by her hand out towards the rose gardens, which were right at the very back of the palace grounds.

Miku was genuinely wondering what she had gotten herself into. She was wondering whether she should reconsider her plan, because the prince she met here was sardonic and mocking and she was aware that it would not be easy as she thought to manipulate him. Whoever he was, he was rather observant and knowing, and it would be hard to convince him to marry her just because she was beautiful, like she was originally planning to do. And, if they really married and she was taken into the royal family, how would she then escape the palace and seek her fortune from there? These were all uncomfortable considerations which were now blossoming into mind. She chewed on her lip.

Should she carry on with her plan? She knew that she wanted to get out of the manor as soon as possible, and marriage was the fastest way to do so. If she was lucky, if things went well like how they seemed to be now, it was entirely possible that she could get out of her prison within a week, at most. Her main concern was whether she would be jumping out of the frying pan into the fire, however. She had been looking for someone she could easily manipulate into doing her bidding and setting her free – preferably after giving her some money so she could be on her way – just like how she envisioned most noblemen to be. She was not expecting someone with sharp blue eyes and a sly smile, not like this particular prince. He shared too many similarities to her conniving self for her to feel comfortable around him. If she were to marry him, it was unlikely she would ever get away.

As she thought to herself, balancing the pros and cons of marrying into the royal family – it basically boiled down to getting away from the manor versus being the prince's reluctant wife – the prince led her to the rose garden he spoke of. He pulled her out into the night air, and she gasped as her nose was hit instantly by the intoxicating smell of hundreds and hundreds of roses, stretching out as far as the eye could see. Some of them twined elegantly over pillars, some of them spread their thorny branches gracefully into the air, their bushes neatly pruned and trimmed. The roses all looked black in the night, and a dark red where the moonlight shone across them. It was absolutely stunning.

"It looks gorgeous enough in the day," the prince mused beside her, "but at night it holds a very enchanting kind of loveliness that few people have the privilege to witness. You're one of them; you should feel very blessed," she let his cockiness slide, she was so in awe of the rose gardens. She had heard rumours that the palace had lovely gardens of course – Anastasia mentioned it casually once when she started getting interested in flower patterns – but she never thought it would be this beautiful. The last time she saw a rose garden was when she was a child. Her family's summer home had a rose garden nearby…she winced, willing herself to forget about that memory for now.

He did not notice her wince, thankfully, because she didn't want to explain her strange reaction to the gardens. "Yes, it is stunning," she turned to him, agreeing with what he said. The fragrance in the night air was almost intoxicating, and she could feel her lips turn up into a smile as she inhaled the perfume of all these lovely red blooms. "I would like to see it in the daytime. I think, with this wonderful fragrance in the air, the beauty of the roses would be enhanced and the sight would be no doubt memorable," she meant every word she said. Though she was still uneasy about the prince and his intentions, this garden was beautiful. She could tell that plenty of effort had been put in to keep this place nice and relatively tidy. The hedges and lawn seemed perfectly trimmed, after all. The rosebushes were slightly messy, but in a deliberate sort of way, drawing attention to the lovely blooms open wide at the top of each bush. She was tempted to reach out and pluck one rose.

As if he could read her mind, the prince did exactly as she wished, stepping out into the centre of the garden and plucking one of the flowers from the rosebushes. He returned to her, fingers delicately holding on to the blooming flower – she could smell the perfume of the rose getting stronger as he walked back – and, without any fanciful words or gestures, he simply tucked the rose into her teal hair. She stared up at him, wondering what his intentions were, and he let his hands fall down to his sides, returning her gaze just as intently. She could just barely make out his eyes in the darkness, the moonlight providing some illumination by which to see. "Only the most beautiful flower would suit such a lovely lady," he finally said, though she could hear the smirk present in his words.

"I'm surprised you would think I am lovely," she answered politely, though she was starting to think that the prince should work harder on his attempts at flirting, since she was rather unimpressed. "After all, you do not know what I look like. For all you know, underneath this mask I could look like an absolute hag. It would be best to reserve your judgement about me for now, Prince Romeo," she bowed her head. Some little part of herself was asking her what she was doing – she was supposed to seduce the prince and convince him to marry her. Why was she acting like she was completely disinterested in him, or even worse, seemingly trying to prevent him from being interested in her?

"Loveliness does not have to be solely about appearances," he smiled, probably in an attempt to be charming. She could see the curve of his lips in the moonlight. "It could be about character and strength of mind as easily as it could be about your eyes, your face or your lips. Loveliness encompasses many different aspects, my dear Cinderella," when he said her name, it rolled off his tongue like velvet chocolate. She actually quite liked the way he said 'Cinderella' – it was just a pity that she despised the name, and would not be referring to herself by that name if it weren't for the fact that her stepfamily was present at the ball as well. "And I can tell that you are a lovely person. I must admit, I am rather interested in you."

Her heartbeat sped up. Here was her chance. She was rather startled that her idea actually worked, and that the prince did seem to take a shine to her despite them starting off on the wrong foot, but she was slightly suspicious of his intentions still. There was just something about the way he spoke, something about the way he smiled, which made her think that he might not be planning what she was hoping for. "Perhaps I am not interested in you, however," she tried not to sound disrespectful, but there was no way she could say such a phrase without sounding completely ungracious. He did not react negatively in any way, however, further strengthening her suspicions.

"If you aren't interested in me romantically, then that would be simply wonderful," he declared, much to her surprise. "You see, despite what most people assume, I am not here tonight to look for a bride or fiancée," his voice dripped with distaste. "I am only here to find, at the very most, a companion. Someone who is willing to spend time with me and talk to me, and listen to what I have to say. Since you are not from these parts," he met her gaze, staring down intently at her, "then it is unlikely that you know. I was an adopted prince, and three years ago…I had a fiancée," his voice shook slightly here, but he quickly regained his composure. "I am not yet ready for another bride, unfortunately for the many noble ladies at the ball tonight. However, since you are not interested in becoming my wife, then perhaps becoming my companion is something you could consider," he awaited her response to his proposal.

She was honestly stunned. She was expecting, throughout the formulation of her grand plan, to get a proposal. Then she would marry the prince and be free of the stepsisters forever. However, she did not end up with a proposal, at least not the type which she had envisioned. Here, the prince was giving her the offer of companionship, to let her keep him company as a friend instead of as a lover. It sounded much more appealing to her, to tell the truth. "You can even move into the palace if you want, we have plenty of guest rooms," the prince added, once again as though he could sense her thoughts. "Then you can see the rose garden in the daytime, as you wished you could just now. If you were to agree to this, I would be very excited about this arrangement, given that you are rather witty and it is a pleasure talking to you, despite your unfortunate choice of moniker. I do hope you will consider this well."

This made things even better. She could move into the palace! She would still be free to leave the manor! But a nagging doubt came to mind – if she was merely the prince's companion, would her stepsisters manage to find a way to get her back into their clutches? She knew for marriage, they would have no chance to do such a thing – marriage was lawfully binding, and if she was married to the prince, there was no way they could touch the prince's lawfully wedded wife. On the other hand, as the companion to the prince…technically, she would still be a Hatsune, and still be tied to her ancestral home, the manor. The stepsisters might argue their case in such a way that she would be forced to return home from the palace, even against the royal family's will – for, despite their power, they could not overrule the law. Their kingdom was fair and just; there were rarely exceptions made for the royalty, and she was definitely not important enough to warrant such an exception.

"I don't think my aunt would allow such an arrangement, unfortunately," she replied, giving her words much careful consideration. "You see, my mother sent me to my aunt with the strict instructions that I am to live under her roof. As part of their noble family, I must obey that rule and live within the family manor," she paused. The prince was listening intently to her. "I would love to move to the palace, I really would – it seems like a lovely place to stay in. But I fear that if I were to stay here, my aunt and mother would start a lawsuit to claim the rights to me, and where I stay. It would be messy and troublesome, and entirely too much fuss. I cannot bear the thought of so much trouble," she admitted, wishing she could say yes instead. However, she could not be careless. There was no way she could agree to anything other than a fool-proof plan, because once Anastasia and Lucinda realised she escaped and managed, somehow, to get her back, she knew she would never see the daylight again.

The prince frowned. "That is unfortunate…" he sounded wistful. "I was hoping that I could find someone else to talk to, besides the servants or the sycophantic nobles who flock to the palace almost daily, hoping to seek my father's favour. You seem like a terribly genuine person, Cinderella, were it not for the fact that your very name and person is built on a story," again, he sounded rather amused. She was somewhat regretting her decision to name herself Cinderella now, since he seemed to find endless enjoyment from picking on her nickname. She was tempted to speak sarcastically of his name as well, but held her tongue – there were still two more nights to the ball, two more nights to perhaps change the prince's mind. He could still be of use to her. It would be better not to destroy the…bond? Or relationship, that she had built with the prince so far.

"Perhaps you will find someone else at the ball who can be your willing companion," she suggested. Of course, she didn't want him to do that, because if he really found another girl then all hopes of her fleeing would be flushed down the drain. To her relief however, he shook his head, rejecting her suggestion even before she finished speaking. Was she really that unique to the prince? That gave her some hope that there was still something she could do regarding her situation.

"I know what most noblewomen are like. You are a rare find – my age, is it? I am eighteen years old, and I assume you are somewhere around that age as well. You are witty and sharp, which I really do appreciate – it is hard to find someone with which one can banter nowadays. And what's more, if my suspicions are right and my curiosity ever, one day, satisfied, you have a lovely face hidden away underneath that infernal mask. I am rather determined to one day unmask you, dear Cinderella," he smiled knowingly at her. She, on the other hand, heard a threat rather than a compliment.

"I'd like to keep my mask on, it makes me feel safer from the attentions of men," she retorted, forcing herself to return his smile as she did so. "I think it is time I went back to the ball. Have a good night, prince," she curtseyed once more, feeling rather satisfied with the progress she made with the prince on the night of the first ball. Already, they were on speaking terms, and he offered her a chance to stay in the palace and be his companion. In the next two nights, perhaps she could change his mind about not wanting to find a fiancée…some part of her doubted she could do so, after hearing what he said about not being ready for another relationship so soon, but she figured that it would not hurt to try. At most, on the third day she would accept his offer of companionship and pray hard that the stepsisters were not bright enough to claim she belonged back in the manor.

"Hold on, you don't need to leave so hastily," the prince called out, interrupting her departure. She paused and looked around, wondering what more he had left to say to her. He was walking up to her, and upon reaching her, he took hold of her hand, bending down so that he could brush his lips against the back of her hand. Her skin tingled where his lips made contact, and instinctively she snatched her hand away. He looked up at her, one eyebrow raised. "Do you not like my farewell?" he asked, sounding almost displeased. She shook her head hastily – no, it was not that. "Then why do you remove your hand as though I am some kind of repulsive creature?" he asked, this time with a tinge of amusement in his words. She did not know how to answer, so she merely remained where she stood, silent and unspeaking. "You foreigners are strange," he finally said, shaking his head. "I can't tell what you're thinking, whether you approve of what I do or not. But I would like to know one thing, Cinderella," his gaze met hers, "would you be attending the ball again tomorrow night?"

She nodded, and he appeared to be relieved. "Then that is good, I'll have a reason to attend the ball tomorrow night that isn't just about avoiding my father's lectures. I look forward to seeing you there then, Cinderella," he bowed to her politely. "Tomorrow, if you are keen on seeing me again, perhaps you could wait at the potted plant between the orchestra and the corner of the room. I will look for you there, and pray hard that I will get to see even just a fleeting glimpse of your lovely face," she was rather sure that he was obligated to say all these flowery compliments to her because he was the prince, but it was nice to be spoken to this way, nevertheless. She agreed to his plan, knowing she would have to think of ways to nudge him towards suggesting marriage tomorrow, before turning around and heading back towards the ballroom. From there, she would leave the palace. Her audience with the prince was concluded, so her reason for attending tonight's ball was exhausted as well. She should go home and clean Anastasia's dresser, as well as prepare supper like the obedient servant she was. That way, she would be free to attend the ball again tomorrow night.

Len watched the mysterious girl leave, almost painfully curious about her now. She had rejected his offer of companionship, something most noble girls would have jumped at – anything for a chance to enter the palace and assume a position of relative importance. This Cinderella girl however, was almost reluctant to spend time with him, and he was starting to see it – see her – as a challenge to be conquered. He wanted to make her fond of him, since right now she seemed not to have any interest in him whatsoever. It was a bad thought to have, since after making her fall for him, he would not be able to marry her since he simply could not force himself to take another bride. But he could not deny that he was intrigued by this girl who treated him not like royalty, but rather as someone who was on the same level as her. She was casual enough without being disrespectful, and since she was not uptight and stuffy like other nobles, she was actually quite the pleasure to speak with.

The rose he plucked for her had suited her hair wonderfully, as he knew it would. The fragrance of the bloom lingered in the air, particularly sweet among the perfume of hundreds of other roses. Her skin, when he kissed her, was soft and smooth, but he thought he felt the slightest, slightest hint of calluses on her palm when he held her hand. Calluses were not something aristocrats were meant to have, especially the ladies, since they did no manual labour. He would have automatically assumed she was a servant who sneaked into the ball, except that her finery, her manners and her dancing were all too impeccable for a mere servant to have accomplished. She was, overall, a very mysterious person, and he liked a good mystery. He decided that he liked this Cinderella girl.

He would make her stay on to be his companion no matter what. If her aunt was the only problem, the only obstacle that barred her from moving into the palace, then he was sure he could work something out with the girl's aunt. He was royalty, after all. He wanted to know more about this girl – the way she thought, her mannerisms, her wittiness and remarks, and most of all, what she would look like underneath the mask. He wanted to know her face, and he wanted to know her real name. She was a person covered in masks, and he intended to unmask her true identity and find out who she truly was. Thankfully she was coming tomorrow, so he would have more opportunities to talk to her.

It had been a long time since he last encountered someone who interested him enough to make him actually want to talk to them. He thought that perhaps, his life would make a change for the better. It might stop being the mundane affair it usually was – perhaps Cinderella would bring some spark to his dreary existence. It was too early to say now, since they were barely even acquaintances at the moment, but he already suspected that if given the chance, she would grow to become a very dear friend.