((Wow, sorry for the long wait everyone! It was a crazy week, but I hope this rather long chapter makes up for it. :) Thank you again for all the reviews and favorites and alerts! It means more to me than you know that so many of you enjoy it :) ))

The moment the carriage had disappeared and Ian had turned to go inside, he felt a sharp smack to the back of his head. Whirling around he came face to face with Norah, her eyes practically on fire and her hands on her hips. "You idiot! Why didn't you tell her! The timing was perfect! You could have changed this whole nonsense tonight!"

A growl rumbled deep in his throat and he shook his head. "I can't tell her!" Turning he walked inside and tried escaping to the safety of his study, but Norah followed him.

"What?"

"She has to fall in love with me! Not him!" He needed a lock on his door. Better yet he needed a new cook and maid. Hannah was starting to overstep her bounds and Norah never stopped.

"She is in love with you!"

He turned toward the woman who was right behind him again. "She's in love with Gray! She's in love with a man whose face she's never seen. She's not in love with me." The more he said it, the quieter his voice got until he felt as if all his energy had been spent on those words alone. He loved her. There was nothing more he wanted than to tell her the truth, but it came with a risk he was unwilling to take. Besides...she didn't love him. She couldn't ever love him.

Sighing softly, he fell back into his chair, not looking at Norah.

"You're an idiot. She loves you. It was all over her face tonight!" Norah stood on the other side of his desk, there was little pity in her voice. She had known him a long time. She had long ago stopped feeling sorry for him. Which was partly the reason he never replaced her.

"Then she needs to say it to me. It won't work if she knows I'm him now." Exhausted, he rubbed a hand over his face. He had explained this to her before.

"Why not?"

"Because I'll have tricked her! She won't have loved me like this. She'll have loved Gray and loved me because I'm him." Dropping his hand he stared at the woman a moment and could easily see she didn't understand. She never did. "She needs to love me as a beast. Not as..." He let the sentence go, shaking his head. It wasn't worth explaining any more.

"I still don't understand." Norah's voice had lost some of it's edge as if she was done arguing with him and now for the first time, really wanted to understand the complexity of his curse.

"No. You don't. Don't worry, though. It's my burden, not yours." His eyes dropped to the paperwork in front of him. He needed to get some more work done, but he knew he couldn't focus now.

"It's everyone's burden...Ian..."

"Then leave, Norah. Just leave. You're not my prisoner." He looked up at the woman tiredly.

"You know I can't, brother..." Moving around the desk she kneeled before him and grabbed his hands. "I can't leave you alone."

"You've wasted your life trying to care for me. You wouldn't ever let me set up a house for you. You could've been a lady..."

Smiling she shook her head. "I like the kitchens. I like to cook. A lady doesn't cook. Besides I wouldn't say wasted...I have Miles..."

Ian scoffed and shook his head. "You won't even get properly engaged let alone marry..."

"If I married him, what ever would I do with you?"

"You're not a young woman any more, Norah, I thought you wanted children..."

She slapped at his knee and stood up. "Ian Grayson Andrews, you will not call me old! And we've decided to take in some of the children at the orphanage. Clara told me about Charlie. I'd rather help those poor things than have my own any way."

"Norah...you know what I-"

"Break the curse, Ian. Then we'll talk about my wedding." She started to leave but paused at the door and looked back once more at her brother. "She loves you, you know. Stop pulling her in and pushing her away." Hesitating a moment longer she then headed back down to the kitchens.

Ian sat there quietly fidgeting with his pen, feeling both exhausted and wide awake at the exact same time.


Despite her sudden rather sullen mood, Clara couldn't help but let out a small gasp as the castle came into view. Anyone could always see it from afar, but now as they were getting closer she could see every brick that had been laid and the elegant banners that bore the kingdom's crest. There were many carriages lined up, letting their passengers down at the grand front entrance. She could make out so many ladies in their fine, beautiful dresses. And men looking dashing in their newly purchased clothes. A small bubble of nervous excitement began growing in the pit of her stomach. She was excited to see all the finery and be in the castle, but nervous that it would be immediately apparent that she didn't belong there.

"Come on, Clara." Hannah stepped down, out of the carriage and Jensen offered his arm to help Clara. As she stepped down she looked up at the towering building in front of her. There were so many windows and bricks and it was so...tall. She felt like an ant next to a tree.

Following Hannah inside, Clara's eyes darted everywhere trying to take in everything. From the other ladies pretty dresses to the intricate gold candle holders lining the walls. There were gorgeous crystal and painted vases full of vivid colored flowers everywhere filling the ballroom with a light, but sweet floral scent. Clara hadn't even ever seen more than half of the variety of flowers in them. The floor was an exotic marble, Hannah told her, and her pretty new shoes clicked softly against it as she walked. The ceiling was even painted with clouds and cherubs. And it was so high! She hadn't any idea how high it was, but she was sure Mr. Andrews whole house could have fit inside and still not have touched the ceiling!

"Stop looking like a country bumpkin, Clara!" Hannah nudged her elbow into Clara's side and grinned at her.

Clara turned her face back down from staring a the ceiling a light flush starting up her cheeks as she ducked her head, embarrassed. "I've never seen anything like it, Hannah. I'm sorry."

"Come on. Let's get some punch. Maybe they'll have some of those little cakes I've heard about too!" Grabbing her arm Clara dragged her towards a servant who held a tray of glittering glasses filled with red liquid.

"Dare I say, I've found two pretty ladies without a dance partner?" Just as Hannah grabbed two glasses, a tall blonde haired man stepped up next to them. He wore a crimson mask, but it was easy to see he was a very handsome man.

Hannah giggled and flirtatiously batted her eyelashes at him while Clara simply blushed and tried looking anywhere else. Hannah at least had the good graces to respond, "I'm afraid our dance cards are getting rather full..." Clara looked at Hannah, was she really going to leave her already?

"Then I must ask fast. Would you give me this dance? Or am I too late?" Grinning he offered his hand to Hannah who barely batted an eyelash at Clara. She handed both of the drinks to Clara and laid her hand in the man's.

"You are just in time, sir." Hannah swept off with him towards the dance floor and Clara just stared after her in disbelief. They had barely even arrived and already being asked to dance? She felt rather abandoned standing there with the two punch glasses and very out of place. Setting both of the glasses back down on the tray, she gathered her skirts and deftly made her way through the crowd to the edges of the room where there were less people. She didn't belong here.

Stopping by a pillar she turned and looked back at the crowd. She should have at least kept her drink. At least she could have looked like she was just a bit parched and needed air. Now she just looked like what she was. An overwhelmed, dressed up maid who didn't belong. Sighing softly she glanced around the room again. She didn't know what to do. Didn't know what the protocol was. She didn't know anyone here besides Hannah and Hannah had left her. So now what? Did one just stand around waiting to be asked to dance? There were groups of people everywhere talking, but hardly any other ladies standing by themselves. This was such a bad idea. Such a-

"So, did you run out of there like that because you saw a mouse or is there some over eager, poor man whose chasing after you to dance and whose affections you don't return?" The deep male voice made Clara jump and whirl around to meet the bemused, but gentle blue eyes of yet another blonde haired man in a rich purple silk mask. His clothing was clearly made of highly expensive material and highly crafted, but it was simple and not overdone.

Blushing furiously at both the way she had reacted and his question, her eyes dropped to the floor as she stuttered around trying to find words. "Well, I-um-well-you-see-I-"

"Or perhaps you just don't know these silly, new dances and you came here to escape being asked?" He smiled kindly at her and Clara was grateful for the less humiliating excuse.

"Yes! Yes. I'm afraid I haven't quite learned these new ones yet..." Clara hadn't any idea if these were new or not, but if he said they were they must be. And it wasn't quite a lie. She didn't know the steps.

"Ah. I thought so. And a pretty little lady like you would most definitely be asked the moment one of these men noticed you did not have a dance parter." He paused just long enough that Clara could feel the panic rising in her once again as she started to scramble for a good reply to that. "Unfortunately, I don't have as good of an excuse as you for being back here. I know these dances." His blue eyes left her momentarily to glance around them and when his eyes found hers again his voice dropped to a whisper and he took a step closer to her. "But, you see, I am quite painfully shy. It's hard for me to ask just anyone to dance."

Clara stared at him, unsure if she should believe him. He certainly didn't seem shy. "You-you are?"

"Oh, yes. The risk of rejection, you know. It simply shatters me. When a lady says no I have this overwhelming urge to run sobbing from the room like a child."

She somehow couldn't imagine him running, sobbing from anywhere. "Really?"

"Yes, and you see, since you now know of my little aliment, you can not in good conscience deny me now." His face was so sober and serious that Clara was having a difficult time discerning if he was joking or not.

"I can't?"

"No, because I'm going to ask you to dance and you will bestow your exceedingly great kindness upon me and spare my rather delicate feelings and accept. Because you do not want to see me crushed and ruin my otherwise good reputation... Would you?" A small smile was on his lips now and he offered her his arm.

Clara didn't know what to do. Didn't know if he was being serious. Didn't know if she should take his arm. She didn't know how to dance these dances. And she had this feeling he was playing with her somehow. "I-I...sir, what about my delicate feelings? I don't know these-these new dances..."

His smile broadened and he shook his head. "Worry not, my pretty lady, I know them. Follow my lead and both of our delicate feelings can be spared."

What could she do? He was offering her his arm, had played up to her better nature, and could she in good conscience deny him? This was Hannah's fault! If she hadn't left she wouldn't be here now! Looking up at him she took in a deep breath and laid her slightly trembling hand on his arm. She was going to make a fool of herself. In front of this strange man and this whole room of strangers.

"You are very kind. I am in your debt now, my lady." Grinning he led her towards the wall and began walking around the outskirts of the group.

Confused on why they were not just heading towards the dance floor, she glanced up at him and then around, trying to figure out what was going on. "Where-where are we going?"

He looked at her for a brief moment as if he was trying to read her before a mischievous sparkle seemed to glitter in his eyes. "Have you met the prince yet, my lady?"

Shaking her head, she glanced around again. She hadn't seen anyone of the royal family yet, but then she hadn't really been looking for them either. "No. I haven't..."

"Well, I must introduce you to him first. I hear he's arrogant and self-centered and needs to meet every beautiful lady in the room. I thought we should get that rather unpleasant task out of the way first." Was that protocol? Clara had no idea. She supposed it made sense. For everyone to first meet him before dancing. That way the prince could choose his dance partners first and not have to fight off the commoners.

She followed him around to a pair of thrones where the king and queen sat, watching their subjects dance and occasionally talking briefly to those who came up to them. But she didn't see the prince.

"Bran! There you are! Please tell me you are finally ready so we can start this properly?" The Queen looked from the man to Clara curiously. The man, Bran apparently, dropped into a bow and Clara lowered into a curtsey, again finding herself nervously looking everywhere but at the king and queen.

"Yes. Tell the band to start it."

The King raised his arm and a silence fell over the room as the music stopped and the people quieted. Moments later the orchestra started, but the chatter from everyone in the room did not. Confused Clara turned with Bran towards the crowd. What was going on? Where was the prince and why was it so quiet all of a sudden?

As they turned Clara was stunned to see the crowd had parted a small path from the thrones to the center of the now cleared dance floor. Every single person's eyes were on them. On her. She could see their assessing stares and she felt herself starting to panic. Frightened her eyes left them to look up at her dance partner barely understanding what was going on and not at all liking the direction this was going in.

He was looking at her, grinning still, and swept an arm towards the empty dance floor. "Shall we?"

No! NO! NO! The last place on Earth she wanted to be was dancing with him with everyone staring at him. "I-I don-don't understand...what are we doing?"

Grinning all the while, he placed a gentle yet firm hand on her lower back and pressed her towards the deserted dance floor. "I told you we have to get this rather pesky business of introducing you to the prince out of the way," he murmured and led her towards the center of the dance floor. Once there he released her and stood before her. Winking he bowed to her and she managed a shaky curtsey in return all the while still staring at him, scared out of her wits. On cue to the music he gathered her into proper dancing position, placing her hand on his shoulder, grasping the other in his, and settling his other arm around her waist. "Now we shall dance alone for three fourths of the song, then we shall invite everyone else to join us for the last fourth. As is tradition. I will guide you and in that gown of yours no one will see your feet. And if you trod on my feet I promise I will not yell too loudly."

Clara barely had time to wrap her mind around his words before he was sweeping her off and moving in time to the music, partly dragging her along with him. Her feet couldn't keep up and for every step he took, she took three just to keep up. She felt clumsy and more like a big clumsy dog than a graceful swan. She couldn't look at him so she stared down at their feet, watching them trip over themselves. She looked like a fool. And everyone was watching. She was such a fool.

He must have sensed her unease because he dipped his head close to her ear, a smile in his soft, gentle voice. "You are doing well, my pretty lady. And I thought you didn't know this dance..."

Clara looked up at him with wide eyes. He couldn't be serious. He was surely making fun of her. "I am sorry, sir, you should have chosen someone else. I am making a fool of us both."

He shook his head. "Nonsense. You are doing wonderful. However, I am afraid your dance card will most definitely be full by the time we stop. Every single man in the room is staring at you."

Clara couldn't bare to make herself look instead her eyes went back to her feet and she forced herself to take a deep breath. "I daresay, sir, if both of our reputations are to be spared you better stop mentioning the people staring at us." She could feel herself step on his foot just then, but instead of yelling, he laughed. "Why are we dancing alone? Who are you?"

He looked at her for a long minute, but there was no judgment in his gaze, just curiosity. "I most humbly regret of having the displeasure of introducing you to Prince Brandon. I'd bow as is custom after introducing one's noble self to a pretty lady, but I find we're rather preoccupied at the moment..." Grinning they twirled over by the crowd before making their way back to the center of the room. "And you? What can I call you?"

Clara's gaze shot up to him, studying him. She was such a fool. Of course he was the prince! What an idiot she was! What he must think of her and all her foolish questions! She should've known who he was from the very beginning! Her cheeks darkened and she looked away from him, ashamed of herself. She didn't know. She didn't know the first thing about balls and what they were like! And that the prince danced alone and that he mingled in with everyone and looked like everyone else! She didn't belong here. Not at all. "Oh, you're majesty! I am so-so sorry! I-I didn't recog-"

The grin slipped into an understanding smile and he momentarily broke their dancing position to bring a hand under her chin and gently nudge her face up to meet his eyes before his arm wrapped back around his waist. "Hush, my lady. I know you didn't recognize me. There is nothing to be ashamed of. I barely recognize more than twenty people in this room, shall I be ashamed of that to?"

Clarabell met his eyes momentarily but she was having a hard time looking at him longer than a few short seconds at a time. "But-but you are the prince you wouldn't-"

"Then that is an even greater travesty. As a prince I should know every person in my kingdom as they are my future responsibility. How can I rule over people and not know them?" He paused and the bright smile coming back to his lips after a moment. "Do you see why it's rather pesky having to introduce myself as a prince? There is just too much pomp and circumstance around Prince Brandon. Too many expectations. Can I just be Bran instead?"

It was hard looking at him as he was before she knew who he was. She still felt like the biggest fool ever born, but the way he looked at her and spoke to her...he didn't treat as if she were an idiot. He seemed to accept it as if it were usual for a lady to attend one of his balls and not know his face. But she knew well it was not usual. Unable to find words, she simply nodded, daring to look at him briefly again.

"Good." The easy grin was back as he watched her. "Now, tell me, what's your name?"

She almost gave her name, but stopped just before she opened her mouth. Clarabell was a maid. A prince shouldn't dance with a maid. It didn't seem right or proper. And while he may have been understanding this far, surely if he found out she had tricked him with her borrowed fancy dress into thinking she was a lady when she wasn't, he wouldn't be happy. "Rose."

"Rose? Like the flower in your hair? What a pretty name." They danced a few moments longer before he slowed them to a stop and dropped the arm from her waist. He still held onto her hand however as he turned to face the still staring crowd. "My lords, ladies, and friends, will you please join me and Lady Rose in finishing the first dance of the night." He turned towards her and gathered her back in his arms as they were joined by the rest of the couples. "My lovely lady Rose, I'm afraid those pesky princely duties mean I must mingle with the other ladies here for a time...but will you save another dance for me? I quite enjoyed having you as a dance partner and you must remember my ever so delicate feelings if you say no..."

There was something rather charming about him. For as big of a fool that she felt, he easily put her at ease every time. Whenever something threatened to crush her and send her running, he managed to find the right words to calm her nerves again. A small smile turned up her lips, unable to look at his grinning face and not smile back. "Not if we are to dance with every single pair of eyes watching us again, my lord. Your delicate feelings aren't worth that..."

Bran chuckled and momentarily sent her a shocked and pained look. "You'd rather see me running from the room crying like a newborn babe instead of dancing alone with me again? I'm hurt..."

"You're a prince. I think your reputation will survive even that. Mine on the other hand-"

"Nonsense! It is my most honorable obligation to protect your reputation. Nothing, my pretty lady Rose, will sully it so long as I am breathing and able to protect it." Clara couldn't help but laugh softly. He was too much. "You will dance with me again? I will do everything in my power to make sure everyone's eyes are not solely on you..."

Smiling, she looked up at him for a moment before nodding. "Of course, my lord. How can I say no to the prince?"

"Bran. Please. Call me Bran." As the song ended he held on to her a moment longer than necessary before obviously reluctantly letting her go, but not before he brought her hand up to his lips and gently pressed them to the back of it. "Until later then, my pretty lady."

Curtseying Clara blushed a pretty pink and nodded. Winking at her he turned and left, disappearing into a crowd of swarming ladies all wanting his attention now that Lady Rose no longer had it. She could hardly believe it. She had danced with the prince! Perhaps this was all simply a dream she'd wake from shortly. Maybe it wasn't real. The prince really hadn't spoken and danced with her. Hadn't kissed the back of her hand. Because it didn't feel all that real.

She started to turn to try and find her way back to the edge of the crowd but she caught a glimpse of a purple dress making her way over. Maybe Hannah wouldn't abandon her again with the chance of the prince coming back.