Summary: A desperate monarch makes a pact with another king that will one day force him to give his headstrong daughter to the king's harsh son. Within the castle walls lay many secrets, including a deadly curse with one year to break. Let the fairytale begin.

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Chapter Nine

"Presenting Her Royal Highness Princess Cecilia Alessandra Oriana Croci of Italle," a low voice boomed. Taking a deep breath, the said princess picked up her skirts and walked slowly, daintily down the elongated staircase, praying she wouldn't trip.

"Cecy, you made it!" squealed Ana when Cecilia made it to the bottom. The two girls shared a grin. It was hard to make it down the stairs in those skirts.

"Barely," Cecilia whispered back as the girls took their place, side by side. Once the other girls were announced and successfully down the stairs, Queen Marguerite made a short speech, thanking the various nobility for attending the ball and to please enjoy themselves.

"I can only imagine how much hard work was put into this," whispered Cecilia to Ana, who was openly gawking at the decorations. This was no small feat for Ana, who lived and resided in gorgeous palaces that had been built by the Ancient Moors, who were skilled in the art of calligraphy.

The ballroom was wide and spacious, an area that could easily fit several hundred people. The ceiling was a high dome, with heavenly artwork painted upon it. In lower parts of the ballroom, the finest candles were placed in what can only be described as sparkling chandeliers. Drapery consisting of silk and satin adorned the walls of the ballroom, with matching cloths on the tables where a feast of foods lay on dishes of gold and silver.

"There is His Highness," whispered Ana playfully, her eyes focused on someone beyond Cecilia's shoulder. "He is looking for you, I believe." Glancing behind her quickly, the image of Derek burned Cecilia's brain. The said man was looking quite dashing in his finery, and the way he carried himself was always something to be in awe about. There was some sort of hidden stealth, a strength that Cecilia felt she hadn't been exposed to.

"Oh, hush," glared Cecilia. "Believe me, there are no romantic notions on his part." Ana smirked, noting that she said nothing about any notions on her part.

"Princess Ana, Princess Cecilia," Derek said formally, bowing as they curtseyed. "I trust you both are enjoying yourselves."

The girls murmured polite answers and Ana said, "If you will excuse me, Your Highness, it is quite warm in here. I must go fetch myself a drink." And before the two could say anything otherwise, she was gone in a flurry of red skirts and black lace.

All at once, the stoic, unfeeling expression wiped itself off of Derek's face, leaving dark, sparkling eyes, curving lips, and an overall pleasant visage. "Is she frightened of me?" He inquired. "She seemed to escape from my presence rather quickly."

Cecilia sighed, knowing full well as to why Ana left them "alone". Glancing at his amused face again, her stomach twisted. Damn that man for being so handsome. Why had she not noticed before? "That is just her way, Highness," she replied.

Derek frowned at the stiff response. "Are you all right? Have I done something to---"

"Your Highness!" A man at Derek's side gave both of them a fright. "So good to see you again," the said man bowed briefly and Derek inclined his head in greeting.

"It is always a pleasure to see you as well, Anton," the latter responded cordially enough, though Cecilia could sense irritation in his eyes at being interrupted.

As soon as introductions were made, Anton launched into politics. Sighing internally, she said, "If you will excuse me, gentlemen, I must go fetch some refreshment."

With a curtsey, she was off. Cecilia liked politics as much as the next royal, but balls were bad enough without people blabbing to you on what they think you should do. She pitied Derek; it was something one could never get used to.

At the refreshment table, something caught her eye. It was a vase of gorgeous, deep red roses as decoration. She, of course, had seen roses before, but there was something sort of mesmerizing about them. There were a dozen, all perfectly formed, with fatal thorns still intact. They had such a flawless quality about them that she couldn't look away.

Cecilia leaned forward, smelling them. The fragrance engulfed her senses and flooded her nose. Even the smell was enchanting. The roses smelt as they were supposed to but there was something else… a familiar scent that seemed much more… masculine than what flowers were supposed to be like.

"Pardon me, Princess?" Startled, Cecilia whirled around only to see the face of a man, who bowed apologetically.

"Yes?" She blinked.

"I was wondering if you would favor me with a dance," he smiled.

Not wanting to seem rude, Cecilia answered, "It would be my pleasure." She took his outstretched hand and he led them to the dance floor.

The two were silent for a better part of the dance, seemingly scrutinizing the other. He was quite handsome, Cecilia admitted. His golden hair shone under the light, his demeanor was obviously aristocratic—his only unique feature were his striking, ice blue eyes. It was hard to look away from them; they were mesmorizing. Luckily, the nameless man guided her flawlessly, never letting her stumble, treating her as if she was glass. Suddenly thinking of something, she blurted, "I never did catch your name, sir."

Chuckling, the man replied, "How terribly rude of me. I am Lord Adrian Magio, Marquis of a small region in Spainne."

Cecilia almost started in surprise. While some Spaniards did have lighter coloring, Lord Adrian looked nothing like the traditional, darkly colored, Spaniard. However, she made sure not to let the surprise show and with a smile, Cecilia answered, "It is a pleasure to meet you, sir."

"And it is an honor to dance with a princess as beautiful as you, Your Highness."

Out of the corner of her eye, Cecilia saw Derek being cornered by his mother to dance. Keleigh was standing close by like a vulture and its meal and Cecilia felt her stomach clench a little. She brushed it off as pity on Derek's part, but a whisper in her mind said it was jealousy.

Luckily, the dance was coming to a close, otherwise her next actions would have been considered even ruder than before. "Would you excuse me a moment? I need to have a word with the queen." The words tumbled from her mouth before she could stop them, and hurried away, not catching the surprised look the Marquis gave her.

She walked towards the queen purposefully, curtseying once she was near enough. "Your Majesty, I just had to compliment you on all of the splendid decorations," Cecilia smiled. "They're awe-inspiring."

Beaming, Queen Marguerite answered, "Thank you, my dear."

Continuing, Cecilia said, "Especially the roses. They're… they're enchanting."

Something flashed in Marguerite's eyes, indescribable and sharp. "Really, dear?" she responded eagerly. "I'm sure we could—"

Cutting his mother off, Derek bowed abruptly and asked, "Would you like to dance, Princess?"

Cecilia saw Keleigh's scowl and answered with a pleased grin, "I would love to."

The orchestra's song was slower, though the beat never faltered. Derek held her closer than Lord Adrian did, as the song and style dictated, and Cecilia couldn't help but compare the two. Derek's eyes and hair spoke of darkness while Adrian's blond hair and clear eyes told of light, and Derek's arms held an amount of strength that was uncommon among nobility. Instead of holding her as if she was a doll, as Adrian had, he held her with a grip that was neither firm nor gentle, as if she had the choice whether she could stay in his arms or not. Breaking their silence, the said prince complimented sincerely, "You look quite beautiful tonight, Cecilia."

She locked eyes with his, startled at his intimate use of her given name. After a few moments, she slowly smiled. "You clean up rather nicely as well… Derek."

A flash of his old scowl came back to his face that moment, as he quickly tugged on his collar. "I never believed my mother when she said 'beauty is pain'… until now."

Chuckling, Cecilia agreed, "Yes, now do you understand how we females feel?"

"I do indeed," he replied with a quirk of his lips. The rest of the dance passed by in silence and after coming particularly close to Derek, Cecilia realized that he smelled faintly of roses. Before she could think upon the matter any further, the orchestra struck up a livelier tune. With a cock of his eyebrow, Derek challenged his partner to dance with him again. Said partner acknowledged the challenge and with matching grins, they were off again.

Twirl, change partners… one two three one two three… come back. "Are you enjoying yourself?" Derek managed to ask.

"Very much so," Cecilia answered. Change partners, spin… four five six one two three. Come together. "I cannot remember when a ball has been so fun."

With a final twirl, she was back in his arms as the orchestra played the final note, dramatic and loud. "I am quite exhausted," Cecilia laughed, "would you accompany me to fetch some refreshments?"

"I would be honored," Derek smiled, wondering when the last time he was in such a pleasant mood.

It was at that table where the roses were. Seeing them, Derek began, "I noticed that you… you liked these roses particularly well—" Before he could finish his thought, The Infamous Four, dressed in their respective finery, came trotting up excitedly.

"Oh, Crown Prince!" One twittered. "Would you care to dance to this next song?" Derek looked like he'd rather eat Ilario's feces, but managed a polite smile and agreed, giving Cecilia a look that said, "I'll be back later."

Watching him go with a sympathetic gleam in her eyes, Cecilia suddenly noticed a figure by her side. "Ana, how long have you been standing there?" she wanted to know.

"Long enough," Ana replied slyly. "I was watching you and the Crown Prince. You are in love, are you not?"

Cecilia blinked. "Of course not! We hardly know each other. And even then, we are quite lucky if we can go a day without arguing."

"We are not in Eegypt, Cecy, so it is no use for you to be rowing down denial," Ana giggled at her own joke.

Rolling her eyes, Cecilia replied, "I'm not in denial, Ana, I am just being logical."

Ana began to say something, then stopped. "Cecy," she began, "who is that gorgeous man, and why is he staring at you like that?"

"I told you, Ana, Derek is not—"

"So you do think he's gorgeous!" smirked Ana, triumphant. "But never mind him—for now—I am speaking of another fellow. Look yonder, by the orchestra."

On the other side of the room was Lord Adrian. "Oh, that is Lord Adrian. Is he not a Marquis of a region in Spainne?"

Gasping, Ana said, "You are right, Cecy! Lord Adrian! I have not seen him in ages. I had forgotten how unorthodox he looks; his mother was Rushan, however, and he favors her immensely… although I'm unsure of his father. Although he was a Marquis, he never came to court and I believe he died during the war. That Lord Adrian though… girls in my country easily consider him to be the most handsome man in Spainne, that is for sure." The two girls lapsed into silence, scrutinizing the puzzle of a man before them. As if he could sense their gaze, he turned and began to walk towards them, an easy smile on his face.

"Princess Cecilia, Princess Ana, it is lovely to see you both again," he bowed. "How are you fine ladies faring tonight?"

"We are doing quite well, thank you sir," Ana smiled. "And yourself?"

"I am having a marvelous time," he said charmingly. "However, my night would not be complete without a dance from Princess Cecilia. Princess?"

What else could Cecilia do? She accepted and let him gently lead her to the dance floor. Outwardly, Cecilia enjoyed their second dance as much as their first, but she noted that she was not as comfortable with him as she was before. And for the life of her, she could not imagine why. Is it because now you know what it is like to be in Derek's arms? An annoying voice—sounding ridiculously like Ana's—buzzed in Cecilia's mind. Wiping it away, Cecilia decreed the thought delusional and completely false. It was illogical and above all, Cecilia was, as she said, logical.

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The dance ended but Cecilia remained Adrian's captive. He persuaded her to dance the next number and Ana observed as a muscle in Derek's jaw ticked dangerously from where he stood, a few feet away. Was the Crown Prince jealous?

"Only one way to find out," muttered Ana, as she strolled up to the said prince before another member of the Infamous Four could snare him. "Crown Prince," she called. He turned, a polite smile on his face as he greeted her. "I just wanted to compliment you on throwing such a spectacular ball." Ask me to dance, fool.

"Why thank you, Princess," he bowed. "Are you enjoying yourself?"

"Immensely," Ana answered, then sighed. "I always love a ball, especially the dancing. I love to dance." Hint… hint… hint.

"Heaven forbid you not dance," Derek replied, as she knew he would. "Would you care to be my partner for the next piece?"

"I would be honored," Ana fluttered her eyelashes playfully, obviously imitating one of the Infamous Four.

Laughing at her antics, Derek and Ana went to join the other couples, Cecilia and Adrian among them. The dance dictated that one had to remain with their partner the entire time, so Derek and Ana were able to converse while dancing.

"Crown Princess," Derek said as their topic on books came to a close, "would you mind informing me who the gentleman dancing with Cecilia is? He… he looks quite familiar." Inwardly smirking, Ana was impressed. She was surprised he had lasted this long before asking.

"That is Lord Adrian, Crown Prince," Ana said. "He is a Marquis of a region in Spainne. Rather quiet and secretive, I suppose he's the sort of fellow who keeps to himself. We hardly see him at Court."

"I see," was all that Derek could manage. "This Lord Adrian… he is a good sort of man, is he not?"

"From what I have seen of him, he is a perfect gentleman, Crown Prince," Ana answered. Trying to test the depth of his affections for Cecilia, she went on to say, "I am sure this is the third dance he has shared with Princess Cecilia. He must be quite attracted to her, I daresay."

"And what of the Princess?" Derek wanted to know. "Does she…?"

"She is very flattered by his attentions, I am sure," Ana replied smoothly.

Poor Ana, all she was trying to do was spark Derek's jealousy enough to give him a push in Cecilia's direction. Little did she know that her comment caused Derek's blood to boil. And that was hardly a good sign. Derek could feel his jaw aching as his teeth started to grow sharper and larger. The muscles in his legs and arms flexed, slowly growing, and his fingers itched as the length of his nails began to escalate. Dammit, Derek swore softly. Why did this have to happen now? Why couldn't he control his temper?

Luckily, the dance ended shortly after and quickly Derek excused himself in a rather raspy voice. Trying to remain calm and salvage what was left of his temper, the Prince got a drink of punch. The color was red and reminded him of blood. No good. Looking around, he saw Adrian laughing with Cecilia.

Bastard…Must… hurt…

He had to get out of there.

Frantically, his dark eyes sought out his mother, who saw the warning signs. Her eyes widened and he nodded, telling her he could handle it. Without further ado, he strode out of the ballroom. Once out of out sight, Fraanc's regal, commanding prince, sprinted as fast as he could to… to where? Normally he went to That Room, but it was too close to the ballroom. He had to get as far away as possible… yes. The library. If only he could make it before The Transformation was complete.

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Her amber eyes watched as Derek left the room, seemingly with purpose. Cecilia saw the exchange between him and his mother. Was something wrong? She did not know why, but she had to go and see if everything was all right. It was none of her business, she should be enjoying the party and Lord Adrian's attentions, but Cecilia could not. Not when there was something… off about Derek.

Excusing herself, Cecilia quickly slipped out, unaware that someone saw… and followed.

She heard footsteps sprinting rapidly and she followed, slipping off her dratted shoes that made so much noise. In only her stockings, she hardly made a noise. The rustle of her dress was drowned out by the sound of boots pounding stone.

Soon, the familiar rhythm of a man running came to a halt. The sounds of agonized howls filled the dark hallway. Following them, Cecilia realized she was in East Wing. Running up the staircase, the moans came from… the library?

The door was closed, but opening it, the sighed that filled her vision brought horror to her eyes.

Writhing on the floor was a beast, its back to Cecilia. No, not a beast. A wolf. Except, it wasn't. It was far larger than the average wolf. Covered in dark fur, it was a powerful creature, its muscles rippling as it squirmed, wrestling with the demon that lay within. Fascinated, mesmerized, she could only watch as the wolf seemed to want to tear itself apart inside and out.

Thoughts seized her mind. Where was Derek? Was this what he was going to investigate? Where is he then? Getting a gun? However, her mind and heart seemed to cease to work as she spotted a pool of tattered dress clothes on the floor. Derek's dress clothes.

Making a little gasp, Cecilia quickly covered her mouth as the beast stopped writhing and sharp ears perked up, hearing her. Slowly, it got up and turned, its dark gaze meeting hers head on. There was something achingly familiar about the gaze, those eyes that spoke of pain and torment, anger and fear… She knew those eyes.

Suddenly—

"Oh Dear Lord," she whispered, shocked at her realization. The wolf hadn't harmed her prince. The wolf hadn't harmed him at all. What caused her next actions were unknown, and to the day she died she could never explain why she did it. Without thinking, Cecilia slowly raised her hand, daring to touch the beast that was Derek.

Last Edited: 2/7/09