Bonding Ties Between Reality and Non-reality
Chapter 14: Pleasure Before Peril
"Keep your guards up, men. Intruders do not care what they're interrupting, day or night."
"Yes, sir!"
Passing by two of their subordinates, Piers and Alex Lucerne sauntered through the castle corridors, lit up by beautiful and delicate chandeliers.
"Ivan's message is very disturbing," Piers confided, a troubled look on his handsome face.
"Well, we have to be practical, brother," said the other cerulean-haired man. "We have gone through the securities twice already, and what with His Majesty's decision to lessen guard duties tonight, I think we've done the best we could. What happens next will be beyond our control."
Piers frowned. "Yes, but still . . . Ivan appeared really quite perturbed, which is not a very good sign. I have always trusted his judgment. Whatever it is, it must have quite shaken him. Between you and I, I believe he has not told us everything."
Alex glanced at his brother quizzically. "Which may be a good decision that he took. Look at how distressed you are now, brother," he remarked dryly.
"Alex, this is no time for funny remarks," he chided. "We, as joint head generals, should know exactly what is our position—"
"—to be able to defend against any enemy attacks, yes, I know," Alex interrupted. "But look, Ivan's predictions may prove wrong. We can't do anything further than what we've done already. We're supposed to be enjoying ourselves tonight, remember? We never are 'off-duty' anymore," he reminded.
Piers sighed. "I guess you're right. I just pray that nothing short of calamity will occur."
They both stepped past the doors leading to the ballroom.
"Are you starving, brother? I know I am." Alex carefully put on his blue eye mask, followed suit by his elder brother.
Piers grinned. "You bet."
----o----
Now and then, Mia's mind strayed as she reflected on her stepfamily. She fervently hoped they had not recognised her beneath her disguise; as of yet, she saw no signs of Merlina and her stepsisters around. But perhaps they were observing her from their table, wherever they were, right now, seeing her past her disguise . . .
What a total silly she was not to have told the prince while she had the chance! Still, she reasoned out, since she was already that close to the prince, she was quite sure that she would have a second chance to relate everything. But . . .
Oooh, the prince's stealing glances at you, Mia! Spritz echoed excitedly.
Mia flushed at the remark. Spritz, please, don't make me embarrassed now! I'm eating!
Yeah, and we don't get to eat all those scrumptious food when we're so near, Serac complained. That's real torture, I tell you.
I'm hungry myself, Fizz grumbled.
I'm just eating a very light meal, if that makes you all better. I've already promised Garet a dance, and I don't intend to waggle around with a full stomach.
. . . Good God, that's even worse, Mia! You have the opportunity to the fullest but you don't take it, whereas we don't have opportunity AND we can't have it!
The aqua-haired young woman stifled a giggle as she took in a spoonful of tasty fruit salad into her mouth as ladylike as she could. She kept reminding herself that she would have to mind her manners in front of royalty. AND be mindful of how much she consumed.
"You know, my dear—oh, if you'll excuse me for calling you that, I feel as though I'm well acquainted with you . . ." Queen Dora began, speaking apologetically with a smile.
Mia was again reminded of her kind, homely mother. "Oh no, please, it's all right, Your Majesty," she reassured.
"Well then, it's just as well," the Queen beamed. "As I was saying, I must say that your dress is absolutely fabulous. It's very beautiful! I couldn't help but just delight at the wonderful texture. The fabric and seams, everything; all such fine quality!"
Unbeknownst to her, Jenna nudged Garet in the ribs with a grin.
"Thank you. I admire it myself," Mia agreed.
"Did you make it yourself, by any chance?"
She shook her head firmly, horrified by the mere idea. "Oh no! I couldn't possibly be able to make such a wonderful dress." But wait, didn't that just open up . . . Oh no.
"Well, who made it, then? Perhaps we could employ his or her excellent services too, right Kyle?"
King Kyle looked at his wife amusedly. "Whatever you think is best, dear. I'm afraid I am not very . . . knowledgeable in these matters," he admitted, chuckling.
Mia shot Jenna a worried look. What on earth was she going to say?
"It was made by a magic wand."
Oh, what a picture their faces would be! They would think she was, what? Crackers? Hallucinating?
"I . . . er, it was my mother's best dress," she quickly answered. "She wore this dress during her wedding night dinner. That was all she told me."
"Speaking of your mother, Lady Lushielle," King Kyle began, "aren't your parents joining us in this event tonight?"
Mia shook her head sadly, smiling faintly. "Both of my parents have passed away, Your Majesty. Well, at least," she continued, "my mother did. My father disappeared when he went in search of some Tundaria Tower early this year, and he hasn't come back since. We've all lost hope as it is."
"Oh, I am so sorry to hear that, my dear," Dora sympathized, her hand patting Mia's tenderly. Oh, how much did she miss those motherly gestures! The world was twisted if Merlina ever, ever did that. "Don't fret too much, though. He might be alive and well."
"I know . . . but even then, he would have probably lost his memory, otherwise I'm sure he would have sent word to me a long time ago."
"Tundaria Tower?" Kraden suddenly interrupted from the other end of the table. "Did I just hear that?"
"Yes, you did," Sheba answered amusedly.
The aged man adjusted his glasses where they once more sunk to the tip of his nose, much to Mia's amusement. "Well, I believe there was an expedition to search for the Tundaria Tower once early this year. Is that what you're talking about?"
"Yes," Mia agreed eagerly.
"If I'm not mistaken, one or two of our Valean volunteers joined in the expedition as well," said Prince Isaac.
"And how was it? Did they find this tower?" Jenna inquired.
Ivan shook his head. "The details were reported to me. It was a failure. The mist surrounding the south polar regions was too thick for them to breakthrough."
"But what happened to them?" Mia pressed on.
The blond boy shrugged his shoulders. "The crew decided to make a retreat back. The extremely icy temperature made them susceptible to pneumonia easily, even with terrific warm clothing. Not only that, but during their sail back, apparently they were hit by a storm. Luckily majority of the crew survived."
"Then . . ." Mia sighed.
"I'm sorry."
Once again, Kraden interrupted the conversation. "But if you like, I can probably get you a list of those involved in the expedition and those that reported back. Maybe they will know something of your father, Lady . . . er, Mia."
Mia almost received a heart attack. How . . . how does he know my real name? Looking sideways, she noticed that Jenna and Garet was feeling as astonished as she was, though trying their hardest to mask it.
"It's Tia, Master Kraden," Felix corrected, speaking for the first time. "And Lady Lushielle, if you desire to be formal."
Realising that it was just a matter of incorrect pronunciation, Mia sighed in relief inwardly. She deeply wondered whether Felix had noticed her flinching visibly a moment ago, because he seemed to be scrutinising her very closely.
"Oh yes, that's right. I'm afraid I am very terrible with names."
"It's all right. Thank you so much, Master Kraden," said she gratefully.
Looking up, she saw the prince opposite her giving her a comforting glance. Their eyes met for a brief second.
She smiled back.
Ah, should I interrupt?
Oh, do keep quiet, Serac!
----o----
"Look at that little, annoying girl, Mother," said Karst. "How so she sucks up to the dear prince and his family!"
Merlina shook her head reprovingly. "We should not be like spiteful cats, my dear daughter. I am actually very curious about her background, you know."
"Knowing this family, I wouldn't be surprised if she was some sort of tramp, if it were not for her clothes. What low standards they really have sometimes! I really do think—"
"If I may speak for a moment," a male voice intercepted.
Seated at the table, the three females spun their heads up to face a man approximately in his late twenties, a confident smirk plastered on his face. His pale bluish skin that makes male Proxians so distinguishable from a crowd was almost identical to his hair dye. Had he not wore a proper tuxedo but instead adorning his usual light blue clothes back in Prox, he might have been mistaken for a statue at the merest glance; so pale was his features that only his ruby red eyes, characteristic of all Proxians, showed any real sign of life.
"Ah, there you are, Saturos," Menardi exclaimed. "Where have you been for the past ten minutes? When I looked to my left you were still there, but after a few moments you had vanished into thin air!"
The man named Saturos chuckled. "Pardon me, but I had something to attend to. In fact," he continued pleasantly in his husky voice, "I think that the three of you will be very interested in what I have just discovered ten minutes ago."
"And what news may it be?" Merlina inquired curiously.
"I have just added a new Djinn into my list of collection."
----o----
Prince Isaac fully supported the proverb his mother always told him, "Good things come to those who wait."
True, he was about to give up the whole rigmarole of a ball; but had he not still waited until he had almost reached the very peak of despair, and found himself to be rewarded at last? Had he not been patient and persevered through all the whinnying and giggling voices of the dozens as he endlessly failed to find his match, and to find that what he sought for had actually come right up to him?
(Even though it was of the merest accident, of course, but did it not just make the whole thing even more meaningful?)
Still, of course, if she really was the needle in the haystack he was seeking for. There always had to be room for the slightest doubt.
His keen, alert azure eyes studied the laughing aqua-haired young woman opposite his seat, chattering gaily to his parents and friends. He was glad of the fact that Lady Lushielle was a companionable, friendly person, and was remarkably surprised at the rapid speed of which she had warmed up to his parents. It was all quite evident that his dear parents were just as delighted and enchanted as he himself was with the beautiful young lady.
Thank Venus his tastes were quite compatible with his parents, at least.
He carefully noted the sharp curve of the chin, the slender, transparently-gloved arms, the silky, lustrous aqua hair carefully made up, the soft apologetic laugh when she made a slip or two in her manner of speech, and most of all, the merry, laughing sapphire eyes . . .
Dash it all, I'm really losing it like a fool . . . get a grip, Isaac! If anything, she should be someone that I know for half a year, and not half an hour!
"Making sheep's eyes, aren't we?" Ivan teased.
Isaac felt a tinge of red creeping up his cheeks as he almost dropped his fork, linked to a piece of exquisitely cooked mutton. "Ivan! I am most absolutely not committing such a folly!" he reproached, ensuring that he kept his voice in low tones, unheard by the young woman opposite him.
The prince's advisor grinned. "Just pulling your leg, Prince. As a matter of fact, you denying it so vehemently essentially defeats its own purpose," he replied, his grin widening. "Still, she is quite a beauty, isn't she? Where is she from anyway?"
"Imil."
"Ah, I see . . . I was right in my assumptions that she isn't a noble then."
"Well, it doesn't matter whether she is or is not, does it?"
Ivan smiled at the protest. "Of course not, Your Highness. Speaking of the snowy regions, I heard from my sister that the winds are picking up fast, and if she is right, we may experience bad snowstorms at the beginning of January next year."
"Enough talking now, you two," King Kyle unexpectedly interrupted genially. "If I know both of you, relapsing to official matters will be but in a matter of time, and which I don't quite intend to have such matters discussed on a pleasant, agreeable event like this." His eyes twinkled warmly.
His son laughed. "I'm afraid Ivan always manages to drown me in that little syndrome of his somehow," he joked back.
"Which qualifies me to be your advisor in time to come, see," the short blond boy pointed out intelligently, grinning.
"I'm afraid I've been sitting down too much already, Kyle," Queen Dora intercepted with a chuckle. "Our chef has surpassed himself this time; you really must grant him a big raise for being able to attract my attention with his appetizing cuisines. All us women corsets are being dangerously stretched up to the hilt."
Laughing gaily, King Kyle rose. "As much as I would love to continue this joyful conversation, I really mustn't forget to entertain my other guests. Coming, dear?" he looked beside at his wife.
"Of course." Turning to Mia seated on her left, Queen Dora spoke brightly, "I'm really sorry to leave you, my dear, but there's no escape being a hostess, especially on parties like this. But do enjoy yourself, all right?"
The young woman smiled. "I will, thank you very much, Your Highness. It's already been such a pleasure meeting you," she added.
"Oh, and son," King Kyle tapped his son's shoulder, "your mother and I did not initiate the first dance at the very beginning to wait for an hour before you take up the dancing yourself," he teased in low tones, out of earshot from the aqua-haired young woman. "Don't take too long, that's my advice."
Isaac watched his father leave along with his mother with mixed feelings of embarrassment and amusement. Was his father indirectly telling him that they . . . approved . . .? Well, well!
"That's quite some fatherly advice for you, eh Prince?" Ivan nudged with a smirk.
"Ivan!"
----o----
"Well, have you told him yet?"
Mia looked inquiringly back. "Told him what—" Then realisation dawned upon her as she realised what was Jenna talking about.
"Well . . . no," she admitted apologetically, her eyes immediately downcast, ashamed of herself. To think that for a moment she had actually forgotten what she had momentarily cast aside in a fit of happiness and pleasure! How . . .
Both Jenna and Garet looked dismayed and surprised. Her cheeks inflamed at their gaze.
"Well . . ." Garet paused hesitantly. The prince's godfather scratched the scalp of his head thoughtfully.
On the other hand, Jenna was less patient and direct to the point. "Well, why not? There was ample time for you to tell him everything before dinner! What happened?" she demanded.
"I—I don't know," Mia stuttered uncertainly, her eyes looking pleadingly into Jenna's. "Nothing really happened. We went for a walk outside, and—he was very . . . attentive, I guess," she explained softly, a faint smile crossing her face.
"He would," Garet grinned.
"We were just talking about some things . . . and . . ." She broke in the middle of her speech with a groan. "Oh, I don't know! There was once when I got to open up the subject, but I . . . just didn't; and when I finally got the guts to tell him, the gong sounded for dinner," she finished remorsefully.
Jenna sighed.
"But why didn't you tell him the first time you got the chance, Mi—I mean Tia?" Garet asked patiently.
"I don't know why myself," said the aqua-haired young woman, shaking her head exasperatedly. "I must have been insane not to have snatched up that opportunity! But . . ." she hesitated, choosing her words carefully with difficulty, "I was just thinking at that time . . . that this event and all was probably very important to him, and it crossed my mind that I would have . . . spoiled it by telling him everything that we know," she said quietly.
"I know that it's all for the best if he himself knows about it," she hurriedly continued in a rush, "but I just thought that . . . yeah," she ended lamely.
Garet looked at her sympathetically. She's got it really hard on him, I guess . . . at least that makes our job easier, he mused
"Well," his crimson-haired companion said, "I suppose you do have a point there . . . so what would you suggest? Leave all the work to you?" she asked.
"What do you mean by that, Jenna?" Garet asked.
"Well, obviously—how do I put it?—he has quite made up his mind, and unless he gets bored of you," said she, directing a apologetic grin to Mia, "you're quite definitely going to be . . . uh, plastered to him the whole time. So if we don't tell him about it, then you're the only one who can really stop anything from happening if they try a second time."
'Sarah Lushielle' nodded thoughtfully. "That's true . . . but how about the two of you?"
Garet grinned impishly. "You forget that we should give the two of you breathing space to 'communicate', you know."
"It's really up to you if you prefer not to tell," Jenna assured. "Just that you'll have to be double alert, I guess. It's your decision."
"Then . . . I think I'm willing to do that and take the risk," Mia answered slowly, then frowned. "But I can't really see how do I monitor every drink and other stuff that he takes, even though I may be within centimeters from him."
"Speaking of centimetres," Master Kraden suddenly interposed alarmingly without warning, "there was this fable that circulated around for quite some time regarding how the term centimeters originated from the word centipedes. You see, it went like this . . ." the white-haired learned man went on, directing his attention to her.
Mia had held a hand to her chest in half-fright and surprise. "Is his ear that good?" she inquired discreetly.
Both redheads shrugged. "Selective hearing, maybe?" Jenna suggested with a grin.
----o----
"Oww . . ." Flint muttered painfully, rubbing his tiny brown face with his dolphin-like tail. He felt his nerves a little tingly, and immediately the little creature remembered what had happened to him earlier. How long had he been unconscious, he wondered? And who was that opponent that had struck him down? A hundred questions were swimming around his head.
" . . . And I end up in a CAGE?"
True enough, the Venus djinni was locked in a small round cage, barely enough room for spacious movement. The surroundings outside his little cell seemed normal enough; it appeared to be of a guest room, by the odds of it. A bed was situated at one side of the room, with a clothes cabinet beside it, a small desk (which his cage was placed on top on) and a couple of chairs next to it.
Definitely NOT the castle.
"Well, this is too offending!" Flint complained. "The cage's too sturdy for me to break open, so what? Stay here and wait until whoever who caught me arrives? Just where am I anyway?"
Estimating that he had not been unconscious for long, Flint judged that he was probably not very far from the castle, and Isaac. But that was hardly the problem. Now he was stuck in some cage out of his own will, and was as good as dead if the person who captured him was some hysterical maniac, who loved to attack cute little Djinn and chop them to mincemeats.
Come to think of it, was his assailant an—Adept?
"Today's a bad day," he concluded gloomily.
----o----
"—But of course, the rumour was declared by the authorities to be of no accuracy, and quite rightly so. It probably was just someone's idea of a joke to relate centipedes with centimetres due to the fact that the first two syllables are the same," Kraden finished triumphantly with a smile, looking at the occupants at the table.
Although the aged man typically started out on a nondescript story that hardly received attention, the unusual length (which he talked nonstop) somehow compelled the others to listen. Which, in the end, partially contributed to the fact that most of the listeners hardly understood the whole story, especially when it contained alien terms.
"Is he always like that?" Mia asked timidly to Jenna.
"Don't ask me," the godmother replied amusedly, "I've hardly met him before, and I'm starting to think that I should be glad of that."
Prince Isaac overheard, and smiled. "Master Kraden isn't that bad, really," he answered laughingly. "It's just a little hobby of his to talk nineteen to the dozen sometimes."
"Sometimes?" Ivan echoed unbelievingly with a make believe dismayed face. "Don't bet on it."
Mia joined in the laughs around the table while the aged man only looked around blankly. Things are really going off wonderfully, she thought. If only it could stay like this for the whole time . . .
Just then, the brilliant orchestra started on the introduction of a new song. The tune played struck a somewhat familiar note in her half-absorbed mind. She hummed absently out loud together with it as she cracked her mind to remember the details of the song. Now where . . .
"Of course!" she suddenly exclaimed. "Golden Harvest!"
The golden-haired prince opposite her smiled. "That's right. You know of it, Lady Lushielle?"
"Know it?" she chaffed back playfully. "Memorised every single beat and step of it! It's one of my favourite pieces," she declared happily.
"Care to elaborate more?" Garet queried.
"Every time after harvest, we have a festival in Imil, where it's become akin to a village tradition to dance to this song. The title fits in. It's really sort of a symbol marking our delight at the wonderful crops harvested, I guess," she explained, a vague smile coming onto her face as she remembered clearly how her late mother had patiently taught her the dance steps when she was in her adolescent years, and her heart suddenly yearned for the sweet, gentle mother.
Her memories of her happy days in her hometown were fresh, and she knew it would always be, no matter how many years passed. She missed the simple but blissful events that happened, missed the cheerful friendship among the villagers, missed taking care of the sick and elderly in her small hospital, missed the unimportant, daily activities even. All these thoughts passed in a fleeting second.
Oh, what would she give to return to her home!
Isaac chuckled. "It seems that our reasoning may be different, but the major point is still the same," he observed with a twinkle in his eye. "I especially requested it to be played tonight, as it has always been my favourite song ever since I first listened to it."
"And it sounds so much nicer with the orchestra playing," Mia added with elation. "Back then, we hardly had the complete set of instruments."
"Would you like to dance with me, then?" the prince asked on the spur of the moment. "It's been quite some time since I found a really good partner at it," he admitted with a grin.
Mia was surprised at his sudden invitation, but nevertheless accepted with unmasked alacrity. "I'd be delighted to, Your Highness."
"Catch you later, Tia," said Jenna with a 'have-fun look' on her smiling face.
Rising from their respective chairs, both parties made their way around the table, whereby Mia duly placed her gloved hand in his own, letting him guide her to the dance floor with poise and assurance.
----o----
Piers Lucerne looked around to his amusement. The high elites of Vale's soldiers were all grouped together in a table, him and Alex included. That meant a lot of 'male talk' among the whole lot, which rarely happened due to their hectic duties everyday.
He was not one for a talkative gossip, but found himself sometimes even entertaining those gossips.
"Look at that smart ol' Lance! Courting ladies nonstop with those pretty looks and smile of his. Girls nowadays just don't know what to look for other than a pretty lil' face."
The cerulean-haired man laughed. "You would do just the same if you could, now wouldn't you?"
"Aye, perhaps that I would. But I've grown past those ages now, General; offering my services to my country's all this lil' poor fish ever needs to do now."
"Some irresponsible youngsters think they can just woo pretty young girls and give empty promises. Oh, that happens quite often, especially during the old times, I tell you. Luckily we keep these new freshies to toe nowadays with their manners."
Alex Lucerne laughed as his eyes swept over the whole scene. At the back of his mind, he was very curious to know who was currently in Prince Isaac's good books. It was a popular rumour that this lady now seated at the royal family's table was the King Hydros' (King of the famous country of Lemuria) unknown daughter; but then again, the Duke was not the only one who possessed blue hair in the world, Alex thought with a smile, remembering his and Piers' hair colour as well.
Thinking of blue hair suddenly reminded him of Mia. He remembered how, in his early childhood days, he and Piers had solemnly took turns to brush seven-year-old Mia's long aqua hair during the times they played together. He remembered clearly how he himself had accidentally entangled the comb in her hair once, which resulted in a few strands of hair stuck onto the comb when it was finally pulled out, and a sulky (but still cute, he thought) Mia.
Of course, she had forgotten all about it the next day, like the gentle girl she was. Evoking back those youthful memories made him chuckle to himself.
But it was separation when the three of them years later, he recalled bitterly. Both he and Piers never saw her again from the time when she left with her father, Miguel, to Prox years ago. Both brothers had missed her dearly ever since, especially himself, as he was closer to Mia's age.
He wondered how was his little cousin faring . . . wait, she wasn't little anymore. How old would she be now? Twenty-two? Hardly in her teens anymore. Chances were that she was already married to someone nice who would take good care of her by now, he realised. Still, they were rather surprised that she had never been in touch with them after all these years . . .
"What are you thinking of, Alex?" Piers asked curiously, snapping him out of his reverie.
"Mia," he answered. "Don't you miss her?"
The answer immediately came. "Of course." Alex knew his brother's thoughts were running on the same line as his. "She's just like our younger sister, really . . . I just hope she is enjoying herself, wherever she is."
"Any blue-haired girl that I see I can somehow visualise Mia in them," said Alex laughingly. "Maybe even that lady that our Prince Isaac seems to be interested in."
"And this is the song that she likes best," Piers observed as the orchestra played the familiar tune of 'Golden Harvest'. "She would have enjoyed it very much if she were here, I'm sure."
Little did Piers know she was there . . .
----o----
A different atmosphere seemed to enter the room as the crowd made way for the prince, and a good deal of glances thrown at his female partner. Nevertheless, all the couples at the dance floor were ready for the incoming music, and Mia couldn't help but feel slightly nervous at the close contact between the two of them as she clasped her left hand with his own, and her other hand on his muscular shoulder.
I better not somehow miss a step and mess it all up, pray Mercury. I've done this many times before, so why should it be different this time, right?
Starting off with a cheerful country-like rhythm, she smiled inwardly as she moved three steps forward together with Isaac and then the opposite way, reminiscing the past dances she had enjoyed so much. As the two of them danced, she observed that the prince was, indeed, a good dancer himself. It felt so much like the old times when she danced in her simple blue frock, only much, much better.
She laughed girlishly as she and Isaac twisted arms before he held her hand high while she spun around merrily, her pretty skirts turning a full circle. "This is so much fun!" she uttered delightedly, a wide smile gracing her features.
"I shall have to take some credit at being a good partner, then," Isaac replied good-humouredly, both of them simultaneously clapping their hands twice before holding hands again.
"Takes two to tango, true," she agreed readily. "And that would mean I am a good partner also?"
He responded gallantly, "But of course. You are a natural, Lady Lushielle."
And he meant it. She had looked so poised and graceful in her steps, and that sincere, appealing smile of hers seemed to (he entertained the thought almost ludicrously) light up the whole room with it alone, enhancing her dazzling features even more than ever. He could hardly take his eyes off her for a minute without appreciating the fineness of her beauty.
Venus, was he the only one who saw her so beautiful? This must be some kind of crazy, foolhardy infatuation he was having with her. If she indeed were so stunning to others as well, she would have been already married to someone else (which he was observant enough to notice her ring finger still 'free' of any bondage), right?
(On that subject, he would have hell to pay if he brought a married woman over to his table, incidental or not, he mused wryly in his head.)
But here she was, young and beautiful. She was . . . dare he say it? Divine.
Like a fair maiden.
"Wha—ah!"
Prince Isaac was suddenly jolted back to his rightful senses at his partner's unexpected yelp. Only when he felt an unfamiliar terrain under his left foot when they crossed arms that he realised with the utmost shock that he had stepped on Mia's right foot accessorised in her glass high-heels. It was but a brief moment before he hastily and guiltily removed his foot at once, while they continued on the dance as the music progressed.
It took him all the nerve he had to look at his partner, who failed concealing a grimace at the sudden pain.
"I—my utmost apologies, Lady Lushielle—" Isaac apologised weakly, looking as ashamed and guilt-ridden he could ever be. Mia was instantly reminded vaguely of a young, shame-faced boy. "I—I didn't mean to—"
So much for boasting myself a good partner just a moment ago. What was the phrase again? Pride comes before a downfall?
Mia slightly shook her head, flashing him an understanding yet apologetic smile. He wondered why. "No, no, it's really quite all right, Your Highness. It's not like I've never been stepped on before," she assured.
"Still . . . I really can't quite forgive myself for making such a mistake." Though, Isaac was quite sure that he had not accidentally overshot his steps until he would have intercepted her footing . . . still, it was his cue to apologise, whether it was his fault or otherwise. His foot did the deed.
"Does it . . . hurt?" he asked faintly.
She laughed briefly. "No, not really. You're quite a light dancer, if I may say so, Your Highness. But really," she continued, her face this time somewhat a little flushed, "it was my fault that you stepped on my foot. I—didn't move away."
"I see . . . and why not?" he asked curiously. Remembering her jubilation at the song, he hardly thought that she would have suddenly forgotten the next step out of no reason.
To his surprise, she became even more pronouncedly embarrassed. "It's just that I—uh . . . I don't quite know how to explain . . ." she stammered. "I just forgot to . . . move, I guess—when you—I'm sorry, I mean Your Highness—said that . . ." she trailed off timidly.
Who wouldn't when he, THE prince, actually said that to her? He had whispered it out with . . . yes, unmasked admiration that was so convincing, even though in soft tones. It was the lamest excuse for being stunned and motionless to get stepped on, but hey, that was the reason, believe it or not.
Waltzing with her on the dance floor as the music picked up speed, Isaac cocked his head in mild confusion as he struggled to remember all that he had said earlier on. Just what had he said that triggered such an odd reaction from her? He voiced out his question, mystified.
"Um . . ." If she weren't dancing, she would be shuffling her feet uncertainly and casting her look on the ground. "I wouldn't quite . . . like to say . . ."
Then realisation hit upon him like a ton of heavy bricks. It couldn't be that he had actually voiced that out loud—?
"Oh."
Mia nodded her head dumbly. "You . . . really think so?" she asked nervously with an unexpected burst of courage.
Isaac had the grace to blush at his slip. If he knew women, such compliments would make them stunned enough, he thought. "Well . . . since I've already unconsciously said that, it should be, shouldn't it?" he answered slowly, thinking.
"Well, you could always take it back anytime . . ." said she softly as she stepped back into position again for another far-off spin, lowering her head shyly. This dance was progressing in a way she never expected it to be.
Oh, he looks so handsome when he looks like that . . . Oh stop it! I'm behaving as though I'm still sixteen or something, for goodness sake!
The golden-haired prince mustered a grin. "Then I won't," said he, and would say no more.
" . . . Thank you," was all she murmured after he caught her from her spin, and the dance ended.
----o----
"Interesting. The prince himself is an Adept?"
Saturos shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly. "That I cannot say, but if he is, the whole world would have known it by now. Speaking of which," he continued with a smirk, "how did it go?"
"No good," Menardi shook her head angrily, her blonde curls swaying. "Some idiot girl got into our way by chance. Who is, apparently, the current potential daughter-in-law to-be."
He cocked an eyebrow. "Ah, I see . . . a pity. And the next step is—?"
"Do you still practice your illusion technique?" Karst cut in sharply.
"Not very often, but probably still effective," was his candid reply. "Don't you practice it yourself, Menardi?" he inquired, directing the question at the blonde young woman.
Menardi nodded her head. "Yes, but I'm afraid I'm rather inadequate for this job, especially if it is true that the prince is an Adept. He would possess higher and better resistance than normal people then. You should do, since you taught me all about it yourself."
"So you have use of it?" he asked, very much interested.
"Perhaps," Merlina said gravely. "We may need your services, Saturos. It will be rather risky, but—"
"Risks!" Saturos smirked. "What are risks to me? Tell me what is on your mind, and let's get this over and done with."
----o----
"Well, looks like things are proceeding well so far," Sheba remarked casually to Felix.
The brown-haired man nodded. "Perhaps. Still, don't let your guard down."
"Of course. Hopefully everything will go off without a hitch."
"I just hope you're right, Sheba," Ivan answered gravely.
A/N: Looks like it's been a monthly update for this chapter, but latter chapters will be taking a longer time, since a busier year of school will be starting again in January. Probably one or two more chapters before the night finally ends (after so many chapters of it already).
Bunch of thanks goes to sweetmaiden for proofreading this chapter, and thank you also to all reviewers for the previous chapter! As usual, comments, suggestions, constructive criticism and advice are gladly welcomed.