Inspired by: Never Enough - The Greatest Showman
The night sky shone a thousand stars. Candlelight sparked shadows along the pillars, swaying to the light tapping of nimble feet. Quiet chatter isolated to the corners of the ballroom left the dancers circling the middle with only the sweet melodies of stringed instruments and mingled breath to guide them.
Long side glances. Quirking of lips. Silenced whispers. Common in such gatherings.
Munto could hardly focus on any of it. Not when a low-born* lady of the most royal caliber fit snugly in his arms. She breathed life into his lungs while she seized his beating heart. Only muscle memory kept him graceful. Nor did he wish to embarrass her during the first dance of the night.
His hand spanned her waist, engulfing her hand in his other. In every way, she appeared dainty and small under his tall posture. His broad shoulders could easily hide her from onlookers, but he resisted the urge to curl around her.
Yumemi appears unfazed by the pressure of tonight's ball. Her eyes, bright and wonderful, kept to his face. Never once straying to the couples that danced around them. She kept to his long strides with grace, pink lips turned upward in an unfaltering, soft smile.
She insisted on red for her dress. An implied message that sent his heart racing. The seamstress took her one-worded request and returned with a dress that brought green to every visiting nobles' eye.
Good.
Dazzled in diamond embroidery, her dress flared at her waist in a traditional, western ball gown. The sweetheart neckline cut modestly along her breast with thin straps to cover her shoulders and cascade down her bareback. Munto would not have anyone suggest indecorously of her chosen gown. Neither would his seamstresses who took extra care with each cut of fabric and added the veiling straps in an attempt of modesty appropriate to Yumemi's age.
Thye pinned Yumemi's golden locks back into a peacock bun. Munto had gifted her a hairpin, a bejeweled version of her beloved flower. But, Yumemi shily requested to wear something she bought for the occasion. He'd never be one to deny her. To his shock, as he escorted her in for tonight's gathering, he caught sight of a lion head, mouth wide open in a roar, and the mane made of bright red jewels, centered on her bun.
Halfway through the dance, Munto caved for all to see. Shoulders hunched as he pressed his temple to hers, their dance continued without hindrance. Yumemi squeezed his hand as concern flashed across her face. They had agreed to a secret relationship until the peace settled. The other nations would cry in outrage to find the Magical Kingdom having the most favor with the Girl of Destiny as if it was not already obvious. Munto tried to save her city, reached out to her to save his world. They fought together against Gnatarl - though, Munto argues Yumemi did all the work there. But, for tonight, Yumemi displayed her allegiance for all to see and Munto couldn't fathom the unfairness of it all. How she wore his color and pinned a lion to her hair, knowing he could not hold her hand, kiss her knuckles as he wished to. How she did so with a smile. The gossip, the slander… she cared not.
"Munto?" Her concern rose as he pulled her closer than allowed.
"I could hold the world and it would never be enough." Not without her to hold his hand. His lips ghosted her ear and shivers wracked her body. "You sparked a dream in me, Yumemi. Thank you."
Discreetly, she kissed his clothed shoulder, "I'll always be your dreamer."
He straightened himself with a smile. Reassurance surged through his blood hotter than any desire. All he would either need was his dreamer.
.
*referring to being born of the Lower World, not necessarily about class.