Disclaimer: I don't own Cowboy Bebop
Chapter Two
The waltz had ended almost too quickly for everyone's tastes. As soon as their hearts had floated with the feeling of overall well-being, they began to sink again, knowing that the party would soon be over. Soon, they would retire in the castle's very own guest bedrooms, and already people's eyes were starting to droop, and a faltered step on the dance floor was getting more and more common.
True, Spike had spent the entire time looking anywhere but his dance partner, but she didn't seem to mind all that much. He was also beginning to think that she had no idea who he was, or she wouldn't have been so blunt in asking him to dance in the first place.
She was agreeable company, anyhow, and the feeling of anonymity that she brought to him was new and refreshing. The soft folds of the satin gown felt nice too, as it rustled against him. The hand which lightly rested itself on her side as they danced, stroked the material with relish, until she slapped his hand, saying with bright red face, "That tickles."
He bowed and she curtsied as the music came to a slow and sweet end, much to the dismay of both.
"Before I go…" She began, looking at the floor between them and turning an almost pretty shade of pink. "What is your name?"
"It's…" It was his turn to look at the floor. He silently cursed, for he knew that once his name was spoken, she would not be the same person to him. She would know he was the king and that bluntness with which she had spoken before (and he had secretly rejoiced at the sound of) would be gone. No one spoke like that to a king. He looked past her shoulder.
And that's when he saw her.
A girl in a black-velvet sleeveless gown was curtsying to a man with long platinum hair. She was beautiful. Spike stood and stared for a moment as she smiled at her partner. "It's…" He repeated wistfully. My god, look at her. She's an angel…Her hair was wavy, the shade of highly polished gold, and her eyes, he could see even though he was about halfway across the ballroom from her, were the most beautiful color of forget-me-not blue he had ever seen. They were the reflection of the blue sky in a clear brook; they were the clearing of the clouds after a storm… He was in love…
"It's…" He whispered dumbly. The purple-haired girl was now looking at him with incredulity written on her face. She turned her head to look at the source of the interruption.
"Ah," she said, her voice filled with barely-concealed hurt. Spike turned back to her for a moment, clearly waking out of a mesmerized stupor.
"Oh, right! Your question…" He laughed nervously, running a hand through his hair and then glancing in 'the angel's' direction once more with a pained expression.
"Forget I asked." She managed to say. "If you'll excuse me." And with that, she sprinted towards the door and was gone in a matter of seconds. Rather than notice, or even being close to caring, he headed straight for the girl who he had spotted from across the room. Another song had started, the last song of the evening, and people were once again dancing. He tapped the platinum-haired man on the shoulder and cleared his throat.
"May I cut in?" He asked, suddenly nervous. The man turned with a frown on his face, but stepped away. Before leaving, he paused to whisper in the girl's ear. She smiled faintly, and nodded, reaching out to squeeze his shoulder. It was brief, and Spike had not noticed it. The man turned away and they began to dance.
"What is your name?" He whispered into her ear.
Faintly, he heard the angel whisper back to him, in a silver bell voice so sweet that he could no longer feel his feet beneath him.
"Julia."
Over the course of the next few weeks, people were still talking about the grand ball that the king had thrown for them, and still wishing that it had never ended. The food was of the best quality (and probably the most expensive), as were the decorations. One had to admit that the company was quite agreeable, as well. The orchestra, however, was now of great renown. They were growing to be very rich from all the weddings and such they were asked to perform at. The second to last waltz it had played still lingered in everyone's ears, and soon came to be known as the "Flower Waltz," for its beauty.
The news had also spread, however, of a woman by the name of Julia. She had captured the king's heart at the ball. So much so, in fact, that he could no longer stay focused on one thing for more than a few minutes. His knights, loyal and trustworthy, finished most of his duties for him with knowing smiles on their faces. The king was most definitely in love.
This Julia was considered by many to be the most beautiful woman alive. Rumors spread that this woman had left behind a man in her home country, by the name of Vicious, in order to come here and marry the king. Allegedly, he had gone insane with jealousy and ended up killing the three armed messengers she had sent to him, and then himself. No one was really sure how true it was. All they knew was that a wedding would soon be taking place, and that King Spike would have a wife, and her name was Julia.
Faye Valentine was the daughter of a wealthy baron in a village not too far away from Spike's Kingdom. She lived in a small castle atop the only hill in the village, while the baron himself lived in one in the center of the town. She had never fully understood her father's reasoning in living in two different castles… She merely assumed that it was because he brought so many damn women home with him all the time. He was probably tired of Faye waking up in the middle of the night screaming at scantily clad women bursting into her room claiming to be lost… And merely wanted to be pointed back in the direction of her father's room, *teeheehee*. Yes, Faye was kind of tired of it, too.
It was a rather small village, whose people spent their days working in the silk mill: the only job in town.
The baron specialized in bartering silks, and his was known to be the finest in all the known lands. Albeit, he had never really visited the silk mills where the villagers worked (he left that up to his daughter), he still thought he handled the money quite nicely. And even though she lost a considerable amount every payday by gambling, he noticed that she did manage to make a very comfortable living for herself.
One day, while she was walking among the mill's employees, all busy feeding or cleaning the containers of the silkworms, she overheard someone speaking about her. Quickly, she hid in a shady corner, eager to hear what they were saying and determined to not be seen by the speakers.
"She's been different ever since she came back from King Spike's ball," one female voice said conspiratorially. There was a pause, and then, "Haven't you noticed? Every time she hears the Flower Waltz she just stares off into space, the poor thing."
Another voice joined in, "Mind you, everyone who knows any music has been playing it nonstop. She looks like a zombie more than half the times I've seen her." There was a murmur of assent from the surrounding workstations.
"What I think," said a voice so quietly that Faye had to lean in to hear more, "is that she fell in love, and the bloke left her in the dust. You can see it in her eyes, can't you?" There was a general muttering of "oh, yes," and "poor girl." And that was when Faye decided to pop the bubble. She could stand anything from people – anything at all – but pity. She strode through the tables with her head held high, avoiding eye contact.
"Back to work, everybody," she said with polite command. With that, she strode into her office, and shut the door. Sitting at her desk, she put her head in her hands and thought about the man who she shared the Flower Waltz with, whose name she wished to god she had gotten.
