.


They were playing classical music again. King William chewed on his cod fillet thoughtfully, wondering how they could eat every meal with this cacophony in the background.

"So, how is your dog, Dad?" Odette asked, slowly sipping her wine.

"Oh, she's fine," Will replied dryly. "Melissa only got an arrow in the leg while trying to help your great hunter of a husband hit something, could happen to anyone." So he was a bit bitter, he had the right to be. Melissa was his best duck hunter.

"How long are you going to hold this over me?" Siegfried asked with a sigh. "I apologised, what else must I do? It wasn't like I aimed at your hound."

"Oh of course, that makes it aaaall better," Will drawled, cutting up more of the fillet. "If you didn't mean to, you can shoot whomever you want! You are the King, after all."

Odette sighed. "Dad…"

"It was a hunt, William, accidents happen," Siegfried countered tiredly.

"Oh, well, I'm sure the next person you shoot will take great solace in knowing that," Will said, bringing the fish to his mouth.

"You can't seriously expect me to send a dog a Get Well card," his-son-in law exclaimed when a quiet cough sounded over his right shoulder. He turned, seeing Rogers there with a letter in his hand.

"This just arrived, Your Majesty."

Siegfried took the envelope and opened it. "Thank you, Rogers." A quick glance at the piece of paper inside, and the King folded it once more, leaving it on the table.

"What is it?" Odette asked.

"A letter from Andover," Siegfried replied, taking a sip of his wine.

Will raised his eyes from the plate, looking at his son-in-law expectantly. "And…?" he prompted when Siegfried didn't continue.

"It's nothing to be worried about," the King replied nonchalantly.

"If it has to do with my granddaughter, I would like to decide that for myself," Will insisted.

Siegfried sighed again. "It's an invitation, if you really must know. The school is holding a Father-Daughter dance, and the Fairy Godmother is letting the parents know."

"Ah," Will said, his dark mood clearing somewhat. "A dance that is not happening in this very castle! I think that'll be good for her. Even if she has to dance with you and not boys her age."

Will was of the firm opinion that Siegfried was the main reason Rose was the way she was. Normal girls her age worried about their next date, and she worried about Oloria's political climate. Contrary to what one might think, the balls her parents threw only made things worse, as they kept a close eye on everything she did and everyone she talked to, making something that was supposed to loosen her up only tighten her sense of propriety. He hadn't seen Rose since she left for the Academy, but he had insisted on keeping up a correspondence, and had noticed with much satisfaction that her writing style seemed to become less and less formal with each reply.

It filled him with pride to know that, away from all the pressure and the suffocating environment of the castle, she was actually coming out of her shell and becoming her own person, not who her parents wanted her to be. She enjoyed her lessons, met with new people, and most importantly – had made friends. Will smiled into his goblet, thinking about how she couldn't seem to stop talking about three young men in particular, with whom she had apparently formed some sort of bond while almost getting killed by a giant spider.

"Oh, I can't go," Siegfried said as if stating an obvious fact.

Will's hand froze halfway to his mouth. The old king's clear, blue eyes turned to his son-in-law. "What do you mean 'you can't go'?"

Siegfried put his utensils down as well and held his gaze. "I have a country to run, William. You can't really expect me to up and leave everything for a silly dance."

"I expect you to do so for your daughter," Will corrected him. "And I do believe the kingdom can survive one day without your guiding hand."

"A lot can happen in a day; whole empires have fallen in mere hours. Rose will be perfectly fine. She was never too keen on dancing to begin with."

"As always, you are astoundingly good at missing the point," Will sighed. "This is about you showing her that you care."

"Rose knows I care about her," Siegfried said, rolling his eyes and returning to his meal. "She doesn't need a dance to clue her in."

"But it wouldn't hurt to remind her."

"This is not your call to make," Siegfried said pointedly. "Perhaps things were easier when you were King, but the situation is very delicate right now. The line of succession ends with Rose, and with her eighteenth birthday fast approaching, the lords are beginning to scheme. Half of them want both me and her assassinated, and the other half are vying for her hand. If I'm not careful, I might lose the distinction."

"So… you're still thinking of arranging her a match?" Will asked in a quiet tone, staring at him intently.

"Rogers keeps a file with potential suitors," Siegfried admitted. "I've taken painstaking care in making sure all of the men in it have an honest character."

"An honest character?" Will exclaimed. "How about having Rose's favour? Does she get no say?"

"Of course she gets a say—"

"From the clowns you've hand-picked!"

"No one will force her into anything, but she knows how important securing the line of succession is, and—"

"Oh no, you wouldn't force her, only pressure and guilt her into it!"

Will threw his napkin onto the table and rose to his feet. Odette was looking nervously from her husband to her father, but Siegfried held his gaze once again, firm and unyielding.

"You would sell your own daughter to the highest bidder?" Will spat at him. "Is that what you think I should have done with mine? Told her to marry whomever I saw fit?"

"Things are different now," Siegfried replied, his voice strained. "I would never force her hand, but we no longer have the luxury to wait for her to meet the right guy. If something happens to her before the bloodline is secure, Oloria will fall into a civil war. I am only trying to prevent bloodshed, and she knows this."

Will was so angry it took all his self-control to keep from unleashing a wave of curses at his daughter and her husband. "Have a nice dinner," he said instead, unable to completely do away with the heat in his voice, then marched right out of the Dining Hall.


-oOo-

I think I'm starting to get the hang of this, Rose thought with smug satisfaction, noticing how much nimbler her fingers had become with a keyboard. She had been in the middle of typing out an e-mail to Moe when she heard three firm knocks on her door. Her eyes turned in its direction. According to the message she'd just gotten from the wish-granter, the Stooges were about to play some Mario Kart together. Who else would be visiting her in the evening?

Rose approached the door wearily and opened it just a bit, only to recoil in surprise at the sight of her grandfather's grin.

"Surprise!" Grandpa Will said, making a wide, sweeping gesture with his arms.

"Grandpa," Rose managed, opening the door wider. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm here to take my granddaughter to a certain dance." The old King glanced down at his brown suit to accentuate his point. "I've been told it starts at eight?"

Rose blinked at him a few times, trying to process what her eyes were seeing. "Erm… yes. But Dad said he couldn't make it."

Grandpa Will waved dismissively. "Bah, what do we need him for? You're a daughter and I'm a father. Nowhere does it say we need to be each other's. Now go get ready."

"Ah… but..." Rose didn't know what to say. This was definitely unexpected, and she was too surprised to think of a proper reply. She hadn't been exactly itching to go to this dance, nor was she disappointed when her father turned it down. But her grandfather had come all this way… it seemed downright rude to tell him no. Rose cleared her throat. "I'll hurry." Then she turned around and walked into her dorm, opening the dresser in search of a proper dress.

Grandpa Will walked in after her, looking around curiously. He smiled coyly when he glanced at the still unsent e-mail and sank into her light-blue armchair, reaching for one of her books, while Rose took a long lilac dress and her make-up bag into the bathroom. It had only been roughly ten minutes when she emerged again, already dressed, her hair styled in a wavy ponytail.

"That really was quick," Grandpa Will noted, standing up and putting the book down. "You look lovely, as always."

"Thank you," Rose said stiffly, then reached for her keys and stuffed them and her phone in a small beaded bag. "Shall we go?"

Grandpa Will smiled. "We shall," he said with a small bow and offered her his arm.


-O-

The dance was mostly what Rose had expected it to be. Muted light, party decorations, teacher supervision. Couples swirled about on the dance floor, most of which Rose didn't recognise. Truth be told, she wasn't very social outside of her friend circle, and since this dance was for the girls of the Academy and their fathers, the sheer number of familiar faces alone was greatly diminished. At one point she spotted Cat, laughing in the arms of an older gentleman, which Rose presumed to be King Philip. The other princess saw her too and waved cheerfully, to which Rose responded with a small smile and a wave of her own.

"And who is that young lady?" Grandpa Will asked when the two of them began swaying with the music as well.

"That's Cat," Rose replied, her eyes still following her friend's figure. "And that must be her father." She had mentioned Cat in her letters, but had tactfully left out the bits about her being adopted.

"See any other… friends?" Grandpa Will asked hopefully.

Rose cast a look around. "No. I'm not really friends with any of the other girls, but I don't see anyone I recognise."

Grandpa Will sighed dramatically. "So I will never get to meet these friends of yours?"

"Do you mean Curly, Larry and Moe? Is that why you came for this dance, you were curious to see what they were like?"

The exaggeratedly sad expression disappeared from the old King's face, and when he spoke again there wasn't even a hint of a joke in his voice. "I came to see you, Rose. I couldn't come for Christmas, and the last time I saw you I was sending you off to the Academy."

Rose frowned slightly, struggling to understand. "But I have written to you all this time. What difference does it make if you physically see me?"

A certain kind of sadness reflected in her grandfather's eyes, and Rose felt a familiar pang somewhere in the pit of her stomach, as if she had disappointed him again somehow. It was a vibe she often got from him, like she failed once again to meet some unknown standard.

"In some ways I think you've changed a lot since you came here, Rose. And yet in others… you're still the same."

Rose looked away. She did think she had changed, but would her grandfather approve? Having friends had made her less formal to an extent, had helped her relax a little and find out who she was when she didn't have a title after her name. But… back home, would this be seen as positive? Back where she was a Princess first and Rose second, would her family not frown upon this new informality? Surely for a princess to act this way was not acceptable?

"Maybe I have changed," she said. Then her eyes rose to meet his imploringly. "But would that be… would it be so bad?"

For a second, her grandfather was stumped, but his surprised expression soon gave way to a gentle smile. "No, I don't think it would be bad. For nearly seventeen years I've been trying to spark in you the desire to do just that."

Now it was her turn to stiffen with surprise. She knew he had been trying to accomplish something with her, but it had always been a mystery.

"And it never occurred to you to just be honest with me instead of keeping me guessing all that time?" she deadpanned without thinking. By the time she realised that she had just been completely insolent with her own grandfather, he was laughing heartily.

"I guess I'm just not a very smart person!" he replied, amusement ringing clear in his voice. "Why, Rose, I never knew you had such a sharp tongue!"

"I'm sorry!" she exclaimed in panic.

"Don't apologise," Grandpa Will said quickly. "You don't have to be formal with me all the time, I'm your grandfather, not a visiting Duke. I loved that comeback! Which one of your friends taught you to be this sarcastic?"

"Erm… it was Larry, I think," she replied, coming back to her senses. "His humour is very dry and sarcastic… I think he might've rubbed off on me."

"Well, in that case hang around him more often!" Grandpa Will said immediately. "I'd love to hear some more gems like that."

Rose could feel her face flushing. For the first time ever, she felt flattered by one of her grandfather's many, many compliments. "Or perhaps you should meet him. He certainly has no shortage of wisecracks."

He seemed to rather like the idea. "Invite him to Oloria! In fact, invite all of them! Larry was the bookish one, right? Your dad could use a few of those jokes to get him down to human level."

"Oh, I don't think Larry would ever be this disrespectful to a foreign King," Rose said. "He's actually very well-mannered." Then she added under her breath, "Curly, on the other hand, has no sense of propriety; I wouldn't be surprised in the least if he dropped a bomb like that."

"Ah, the infamous Curly." Grandpa Will smiled knowingly. "And when do I get to meet him?"

Rose couldn't help the chuckle that escaped her. "Infamous? Did he really come across this way in my letters?"

"Perhaps," Grandpa Will said. "He certainly sounds… interesting." Smiling, he added, "He's had an interesting effect on you."

Rose looked away. Since she had realised her true feelings for him, she'd consciously tried not to think about Curly unless it was in a strictly platonic context. The trouble with that was… that it was hard. He would smile at her in class, and she would feel a tiny sun dawn inside her. He would accidentally brush his elbow against hers, and her whole body would start tingling. He would wave at her across the hall, and her heart would start beating on double time, as if eager to leap out of her chest and straight into his arms.

Hiding it became harder and harder every day.

Her grandfather stared at her silently. "You love him, don't you?"

Her eyes shot up to meet his. "Wha—where did that—"

"You think you have everybody fooled," Grandpa Will said. "But you can't fool me, honey. I've known you too long and too well. That persistent kid has somehow gotten in under the wire, and no matter how hard you try to deny it, I can tell you care about him. Admit that you love him — and I know that you do. Despite all your efforts to never let another heart touch yours."

Rose's eyes moved to the floor again. "Of course I love him," she said quietly. "But what would admitting it accomplish?"

To her surprise, her grandfather smiled. "I thought so," he muttered to himself. "Then tell him."

Now it was her turn to smile, though there was a cold sadness nestled in her chest. "I don't think that is wise. He doesn't feel the same way."

"A boy, not loving my granddaughter? That's preposterous!" Grandpa Will said, and despite everything, Rose had to hold back a chuckle. He smiled kindly as he added, "You'll never know unless you ask."

Rose shook her head. "I don't need to ask. Curly cares about me, I have no doubts about that, but he cares about everyone. I'm too stiff and awkward and cold and formal... He deserves someone better, someone happier. Someone warm, like him."

Fingers curled under her chin and gently lifted it. "You're selling yourself short, Rose. You have grown into a wonderful young woman, and he would have to be daft not to see that," Grandpa Will said softly.

"I think," she said, barely above a whisper, "that he knows." If it was so obvious to half the school, surely it was obvious to him. And he hadn't said anything, which meant that there was nothing to say. "If he does feel this way about someone, it's another girl. And, Grandpa, if she makes him happy… I want him to be with her."

Even though she tried to block the thoughts from her mind, sometimes it was impossible. But instead of imagining him kissing Ursula in a dark attic, Rose tried to picture him smiling at her, happy. That mental image made the whole idea a lot more bearable, and as long as she focused on that, she could want it to be real.

Grandpa Will's hand moved to caress her cheek. "If that boy is fool enough to choose her over you… then he is blind."

Rose cracked the tiniest of smiles. "Perhaps I should look into getting him a seeing-eye dog. He'd love a Golden Retriever."

Grandpa Will laughed at that, drawing her into a hug. Rose smiled sadly in his shoulder as they continued to sway with the music.

It was liberating, in a way, to say that she loved him outloud. The words had been clawing their way up so often, it had taken real effort on her part to keep them from casually slipping out. She couldn't—wouldn't—deny it anymore, but saying it would only make him feel guilty.

Rose never lied, but she could keep a secret. And this one she would safely tuck away in her heart, closely guarded, even if everyone could see it.