After Alan finally had his first conversation with Lady Katarina – no, just Katarina – and found that it concluded without her running shrieking into the night, he found that he could not stop conversing with her. Indeed, sometimes he felt as though he said more words in the next few months of knowing Katarina that he had ever expended in the rest of his lifetime.

Perhaps that should not have been much of a surprise. As his mother wryly said once he related his fascinating finding that he loved speaking to Katarina, "You would be amazed, my dear son, how often men are inspired to chatter on and on once they are trying to impress a pretty woman."

But although Alan had blushed and sworn that his motivations for talking to Katarina were not nearly so base – after all, he was not trying to woo her merely to stop being lonely! He truly did want to learn more about her and keep her company! – he had to admit that he was beginning to entertain the mad notion that Katarina might actually enjoy his presence.

After all, it was not as though Alan spent much time bringing joy to most of the people around him. Although his family and staff were obligated to care for him, and his mother and many of his servants showed true care and compassion, Alan had often wondered what it would be like to be around someone his age who delighted in his company. Jeord, for instance, never lacked a veritable aviary of both young women and men who fought for his attention.

Of course, Alan was not foolish enough to think that he could supplant Jeord as the man of Katarina's dreams. It was not as though sickly shut-ins like him made up the crux of any maiden's fantasy. Yet even if Katarina was far from falling head-over-heels in love with Alan, she still seemed to take some enjoyment in being around him. And either way, Alan could feel himself slipping deep into the farthest reaches of infatuation with every passing day – even if he remained so wary of showing himself that every meeting happened to take place with either a giant mask on his face or a screen between the two of them.

(And that was when he did not venture to speak to her while hanging upside down from the rafters during supper time – which she took with remarkable good grace).

("At least the crumbs you drop on me give me a reason to look forward to the day you share a table with me," she said while smiling so wryly up at him that he wasn't sure whether he was more charmed or ashamed).

After all, it was not hard to feel… affection for a young woman who was so very enthusiastic about his talents in a way that might gradually extend toward the rest of him, flawed though he happened to be. And Katarina was nothing if not a barrel full of enthusiasm about the idea of composing an operetta with him, barreling ahead at full speed. Indeed, Alan's days quickly transformed from ones where he listlessly played on his piano and half-heartedly attended private tutoring to ones where a constant flow of conversation seemed to erupt between himself and Katarina – who truly did seem to be his artistic soulmate.

"Just think about this," Katarina would say whenever she managed to corner him as he hung around the rafters of the palace like the world's oddest bat. "I know we have been going over act three time and time again, but don't you think that Beauty needs another song to showcase the relationship between her and the Beast as it evolves?"

Alan had shrugged at that and said: "But another love song? I thought we'd save one for the big ballroom scene where she swans in all dressed up while he astounds her by being less of a brute than usual after all."

"It doesn't need to be a love song," Katarina had thoughtfully replied, craning up to meet his masked visage as he hung upside down. "Rather, perhaps they could have one demonstrating their developing a true friendship with one another? Enjoying each other's company? And perhaps even slowly realizing how similar they happen to be?"

Alan paused in the middle of his swinging from the chandeliers to say: "But I thought women tended to fall in love instantly?"

"I'm not sure," Katarina dryly replied, "where on earth you learned that bit of 'wisdom' but it is very questionable indeed. And while there are probably quite a few women who fall headlong for the first handsome face that comes their way, I don't believe that trajectory is quite right for the story we are telling."

"So what would be right?" Alan asked bashfully, knowing his complete and utter lack of romantic experience was now betraying him cruelly.

"I shall let you figure that out," Katarina had replied playfully, "so long as you let me take the lead."

And though Katarina had stopped… teasing him quite so much after her innuendo during their first meeting had made him (literally) collapse, her words still made him almost lose his grip on the chandelier and plummet to his death post-haste.

So it was that he and Katarina kept meeting and talking and dreaming and laughing about their operetta even as it began to take shape due to their determined efforts. And eventually, what Alan had thought would be a light diversion from the boredom she would naturally suffer from living in his dreary palace wing quickly became both a shared goal and a mission for the both of them – and one that would show all of Sorcier how talented they truly happened to be.

"Think of it this way," she told Alan stoutly a few weeks into their burgeoning plans for their operetta, after they had already planned several acts out and were working on how to craft a truly momentous villain – who Katarina had already decided was a blond-haired lout who was out to deceive the titular Beauty about how likely they were to get married. "You and I have been direly underestimated by all those around us over the last few years!"

"I am sure that was very true of you," Alan assured her, before admitting, "though not necessarily for me. Frankly, I am neither under or overestimated so much as I am not… estimated at all. I am quite sure most people think I died years back, actually."

From the sudden look of sadness that bloomed on Katarina's face, Alan knew he had had the right of it. Yet from the pugnacious tilt that her chin took on a moment later, he soon realized that that was not about to stop her either.

"I was always underestimated," she agrees. "Always have been and, unless we do something to change it, always will be. Too many people think of me as nothing more than the sad little girl still clinging to Jeord no matter how poorly he treats me. And believe me, that is possibly even worse than not being thought of at all, as people do to you. But wouldn't you like to change that already?"

And even as the thought of changing something in his life from his own effort rolls about in Alan's mind, Katarina leans forward so that her fingers touch the screen that separates them.

"Wouldn't you like to show that Prince Alan Stuart lives after all – and behind their backs, he had blossomed into an unparalleled musical genius?"

"I," Alan said, mind going blank even as his cheeks flushed. "Do you really think that describes me?"

"I do," she answered back, and he can somehow sense her smile through the screen. "I have read your poetry, I have heard your compositions, and I have seen more than enough of your ideas over the last few weeks to be sure of what I am saying. I think you are a genius indeed – and frankly, a possessor of the sort of gift that could help your family and even your country. And even bring you as much freedom as you might like after living in isolation all of these years."

"How so?" Alan whispered, even as something like hope bloomed in his chest – along with doubt, fear, and uncertainty. "I – I am glad my meager gift at stringing a few words and tunes pleases you, my lady, but I have always been so – so very useless otherwise. I always knew I would live my life within this wing of the palace. I never thought to escape actually."

She sighed even as her fingers gently traced a vague pattern along the screen.

"Me neither," she said wistfully. "I was born into a cage as well and spent all my life there. And I am tired – so very tired – of dwelling there. I want to escape and if you feel the same – perhaps you can come with me. Perhaps we can set each other free."

And it was then that Alan realized, with a kind of dazed pleasure, that now that this possibility was open to him at last –

Perhaps, just perhaps, he might want to escape from the cage in which he had always lived.

It was a thought as terrifying as it was alluring – in much the same way that being with Katarina also happened to be.

"What would we have to do to make that happen?" he whispered at last, feeling the strangest possible mix of giddiness and fear.

"First," she replied, her voice just as nervous and as hopeful as his heart happened to be, "we need to make sure we write a damned good operetta together. And then we need to approach your mother about staging it and making it a success among the general public. And should that work – then we can ask about getting the funding to start a theatre in which we can keep on creating and mounting plays and operettas that bring glory to your family – and independence to we who happen to be doing the work."

All of a sudden, Alan knew exactly where she was going.

"We could start a national theatre," he said, amazed at the brilliance and bravery of his would-be bride, "that would entertain the masses and gradually become a powerful tool for disseminating the ideals of my family."

"And that is only the start of it," Katarina declared, her fingers pressing now pressing so hard against the screen, it is a wonder the fragile cloth does not rip. "We can and should play to the sensibilities of the commoners, of course. But if we can catch the interest of influential nobles, such as the upcoming young lords and ladies of the Academy, we can make getting a box seat at our theatre one of the new arbiters of status in high society. And over time, if we make nobles froth at the mouth to attend one of our operas and plays on opening night, we might even become power players in the social current of nobility!"

"Which in turn," Alan continued, his own hand tentatively falling on the screen just a few inches from Katarina's own, "means that we can sway some of the great powers of Sorcier to granting more favors toward – or perhaps even pledging greater loyalty to – the Stuart Dynasty. Which would make my mother and father very happy."

"And following that," Katarina said with great cheer, "it would make my possible future in-laws very pleased with me! And thus, make them – as well as whoever the next king and queen is – more likely to grant us the freedom, the money, and the latitude to live our lives without being under their thumbs all of the time."

As frightening as that thought is – for when has Alan not lived except beneath the rules of someone else? – it is also somehow… invigorating…

Even if Katarina's blithe wish that her in-laws might be his parents was something that he could not deal without fainting once again.

So Alan did his best to carry on, glad that the screen between them would hide how badly he was blushing.

"So it seems," he suggested, tentatively drawing his hand closer on the screen towards her, though not daring to touch her just yet, "that we need to do our best to make this operetta as excellent as it can be. And when we are finished, we can approach my mother with the idea of allowing us to operate our own small theatre to test it out and see how successful it might be. And if it is successful, then we…"

Staggered at the implication, Alan stopped speaking. And so, placing her hand on his own, Katarina continued gently.

"Then we will finally have some say on how to live our lives as we damn well please, won't we?"

Alan pressed his fingers tentatively against Katarina's own and, once he felt her fingers gently curl towards his, smiled.

"Then," he said at last, feeling a strange warmth blossom across his chest even as his flush refused to go away. "We shall simply have to make sure that we work damn hard on this first operetta."

"Which reminds me that I have some ideas for how to make that horrible golden-haired villain of ours suffer before Beauty finally kicks him off a cliff for going after Beast," Katarina blithely replied, the laughter in her voice shortly after echoed by him as their discussion continued throughout the night with equal parts cheer and ease.

And so the days of knowing and living with Katarina slowly turned into weeks and even months, the two of them drawing closer and closer despite all of Alan's inadequacies. Indeed, at times, Alan didn't know whether he wanted to embrace or punch Jeord in the face for reducing her expectations of men so greatly that she seemed perfectly content in the company of a hideous man too shy to see her without the intervention of a mask or screen.

Indeed, after a while, Katarina seemed to barely mind that he still would not disclose his hideous face to her after months in her company. As she said after he finally plucked up the courage to ask: "I have long since stopped caring about the façade of beauty any husband of mine could have. I will not deny that beauty is pleasant indeed… but beauty means nothing if it comes with a nature as treacherous as that of a viper. And if nothing else, you are truly the loveliest man I know in terms of being kind and considerate and sincere."

If Alan had been hanging from the rafters just then, he probably would have expired due to losing his grip. As it was, he hunched over his piano while furiously blushing and began to play their developing concerto while she laughed and then sang along behind the screen.

As time went on, he also learned that Katarina had plenty of talents and interests besides the writing of operettas and the planning of grand escapes. She was actually very proud of the multitude of skills that she had gathered over the years – and more than eager to use them to promote his own health and well-being. At least, such was the only explanation a pleased (if deeply embarrassed) Alan could come up with to describe why she even took the time to help prepare his meals.

"I notice," she said, smiling in that steely ways of hers that showed she was determined to plow ahead and win the day despite all obstacles, "that your diet is not actually very healthy, my dear Alan. It is hard not to miss that you tend to eat mostly just bread and cheese, especially when you keep crumbling them on me during our… shared meals."

Alan had to grin guiltily behind his mask. "I… one day I will cease to do as much, Katarina, I promise you! But I suppose I never really thought about food much and I always did have an appetite like a bird. Mother always did despair at getting me to eat anything and at this point, mostly leaves me be so long as I am not outright starving."

"Well," Katarina replied, a pugnacious look crossing her face, "your mother is not the only woman who has reason to be concerned about your health. After all, I am your future – future partner, in operettas and our theatre, if nothing else. And that means I need to keep you strong and healthy."

She arranged herself as though about to break into battle and then said: "Which is why I am taking charge of your diet right now! And I will make sure that from now on, you eat only what is both delicious and nutritious!"

And though Alan had never been one to care much about what went into his body, so long as it kept him alive, he had to admit the thought of being cared for by Katarina was… pleasing. But still, he had to ask: "Does that mean that you will actually start… cooking for me?"

"I am not a scullery maid such that I will slave over a kitchen counter," Katarina said, looking offended enough that he blushed and apologized. Then, once mollified, she added: "But I will be supervising your meals and making sure they are exactly what you need. And…"

She took a deep breath, her face for once staring at her shoes instead of craning up to look at him among the rafters.

"Perhaps we can even start eating together at a table with a screen of some kind between us," she said, her voice so quiet he could barely hear her. "I… I don't mind not looking at you, so long as you are next to me."

"Uhm," Alan said, before frantically adding before she could think he had rejected her. "I, uh. I would enjoy that! Truly! If you don't mind the added hassle of having the dining table retrofitted for my peculiarities!"

"Not at all," Katarina replied, and then looked up at him with a smile so large, it could outshine the sun. "And I am glad you will join me at last. It was strange enough to eat with breadcrumbs raining down on me. I would hate to see what would happen should you accidentally slip and send a bowl of vegetable soup or a leg of lamb down upon my ears."

So Alan soon began joining Katarina at a proper table for breakfast, lunch, and dinner – and finding new conversations to have with her during every single meal. And once he learned from those conversations that Katarina had always nurtured a certain yearning for adventure that seemed unlikely to find her as a duke's daughter or a would-be princess, Alan realized he had a new way to not only repay but also woo his fair lady. After all, even if he was not very conversant with the world outside of the palace – and in all honesty, was terrified of it – no one knew the inner confines of the palace as he did.

So it was that with a certain amount of cocksureness, he replied to her wistful recollection that she always wanted to travel the world by saying:

"Well, I am afraid that I cannot whisk you away to another continent, my lady. But I do have a certain unique perspective of the world that I would be happy to share with you."

"Oh?" she said in return, even as she craned her neck to look up at him – and then gasped at the rope ladder he had unfurled for her to join him the palace rafters. "Are you finally about to thrill me by sharing your magnificent roof-top views?"

"So long as you do not mind either great heights or tight squeezes," he cheekily replied. "Although, er, this might be inadvisable if you do not have a good grip."

"Luckily for the both of us," she said, even as she began to clamber up the rope ladder with a monkey-like agility, "I live for danger. And I have an excellent grip. Look at how I held onto my sanity all of these years despite having to deal with your brother!"

"Then I hope you'll enjoy the sights I am about to unleash on you," he returned as gallantly as he could, even as he helped her clamber up to the rafters and then wedge herself into one of the many secret passages within them that he had discovered over his many years of exploration. "Trust me, my lady – I am about to show you a whole new world that very few others have ever reached."

And though Alan almost shook so hard that he nearly toppled off his own perch as his practiced words tripped out of his mouth, it turned out that all his preparations were worthwhile after all. For the gleam in Katarina's slanted eyes and the smile upon her lips was worth any amount of sleepless nights spent trying to figure out how to best give her some of the excitement and the adventure in her life that she desired.

He started off very slowly, of course, as he was following his mother's advice that it was best to unveil his… peculiarities to Katarina slowly so that she could be accustomed to them. And much to his delight, Alan quickly discovered that Katarina was excited to partake in all of the secret passageways and wonders that he unveiled for her, no matter how dirty or bedraggled squeezing from one vent to the other or clambering up one rope to a connected chandelier might make her. Indeed, Katarina seemed incredibly willing to laugh off the dirt and muck that their explorations made in search of even further adventure.

"Oh never mind the dirt," she said, with a calm disregard that seemed utterly at odds with her status as a duke's daughter and a would-be bride to a prince. "Once you've been seen by the public while wearing nothing more than a dirty shift, it is not hard to disregard a few smudges on your collar."

"Wait, what?!" Alan cried at that. "Why were you seen in a dirty shift in public?! Who would dare do that to a high-born lady like you?!"

Katarina had just sighed and then managed a wry smile.

"Never mind," she said. "That is a most ridiculous story for another time. And right now, I would much rather explore the royal ball room with you while your mother holds another social event. I am sure the gossip we shall find shall be of great use to the financing of our royal theatre in the end, don't you?"

Bewildered still but unwilling to press Katarina for details she did not want to give, Alan had given his assent. And so, for the next few weeks, they had run merrily rampant around the castle – much to his mother's wry concern and his servants' bemused tolerance – ferreting out the secrets of many a visitor even as Katarina learned of all of Alan's long-guarded tunnels.

"My goodness," she would say at times, even as she crawled after him in any number of draughty ventilation shafts. "All this time, I had no idea you were – on top of being a genius musician and romantic maestro – a master spy as well. God only knows how many secrets you must have overheard over the years!"

Alan, master spy that he was, ended up hitting his head on the top of the shaft he was crawling through because Katarina's word discombobulated him so. And then, blushing he managed to say: "I truly doubt I am all that you say I am, my lady. But – that is kind of you indeed."

"No kinder than you are to me," Katarina said fondly in return, and then ventured to gently touch her fingers to his heel as he continued moving forward. "But then again, it might be impossible to go beyond the care you have shown to me."

Alan almost toppled over at that, much to Katarina's dismay. But once he managed to right himself and keep himself from a hundred-foot fall once they reached their destination – the very top of the royal library, which offered a spectacular view – he found himself smiling at the thought of how to prove her wrong already.

So he planned for a grand way to do so, even as the weeks turned to months and the months edged toward a year. And even as they continued composing together, eating together, laughing together, and eventually even giving dramatic readings together, Alan found himself tumbling head-long into… he did not even know what state it was, only that it animated his days and nights and made him ache for Katarina in ways that he had never thought to feel for any being.

After all, until he had met Katarina, he had lived with the belief that every high-born lord or lady who had the gift of good health must have experienced a happier childhood than he had. But after learning more about Katarina's past, that assumption shattered.

"It is good to know," Katarina once told him as they sat peacefully reading in the library together, their feet almost touching given how close their chairs were, "that in childhood, your parents cared for you so much. If nothing else, your mother was most attentive to your health!"

"Yes," Alan conceded wryly, "I am sure I am only alive to this present day because of the great care my mother and the rest of my family always showed me. It is a miracle that I somehow managed to survive all of my bouts of illness – or at least a testament to how powerful light magic might be. Even if it did leave me looking like a withered old man of sixty."

Katarina cast a wry look at his hair and shrugged. "Well, better to look prematurely aged than to die early. If nothing else, death cuts each us off from all the beauties of the world. And if you died without our meeting, I would have lost out on one of the finest friends I could ever hope to meet. And that would be yet another tragedy!"

Blushing, Alan ducked his head further into his book and murmured: "I – that is fine praise indeed, my lady. Though I cannot imagine that you would not attract many other friends, however glad I am that you count me among that number."

She smiled sadly and then said, "I do indeed. And unlike many of my… past friends, you do not seem the sort to cut off all ties with me because I am no longer politically expedient to be around. It is amazing how often loyalty vanishes like a mirage when I am no longer yoked to a crown prince – however much he might have humiliated me previously."

Alan's fingers curled so hard around his book, he could have ripped it in half had he any real strength to him. He could only say: "I am sorry you were surrounded by so many disloyal people, my lady. They do not sound as though they deserve you in the least."

She simply shrugged; her next smile was sad but sincere. "Maybe or maybe not. I cannot pretend I have been some paragon of perfect female virtue over the years either. The things I did to try and cling to what little love I ever thought I had are many and terrible indeed."

At his gently questioning glance, Katarina said: "And oh, my actions are not only connected to your wretch of a brother either. Ever since I was young, I did whatever I could to secure my parents' attention, which always seemed to wander away from me. When acting like the perfect little lady did not work, I would become an absolute hellion – for even their stern reprimands felt better than being ignored so that they could continue to war with each other."

"That almost makes," Alan finally said, feeling his heart ache for Katarina, "my childhood sound happy indeed."

"I do not think," Katarina quietly replied, "that anything could do as much, even if you had the full love and support of your family. And it does not seem as though either of us were particularly happy during our childhoods."

And that was when Alan finally mustered up his scant reserves of courage enough to lean over and take Katarina's hand, even as his own trembled violently.

"Then maybe," he said softly, "we need to do whatever we can to live far happier lives as adults."

A smile broke out on Katarina's face, even as she laced his fingers between her own and squeezed them gently.

"Certainly," she replied gently, "I would like to try. And even though we have yet to put our theatrical plans in motion, I think we may already be succeeding."

Alan squeezed back and said, as evenly as he could: "Then let us continue working to achieve even greater success eventually."

And so they did, their grand and ever-growing scheme to build a theatre of their dreams pushing Alan to the very limits of his creativity. For now that he and Katarina had a goal – an actual and achievable goal – to work towards, Alan felt as though his ambitions were finally unleashed. Instead of facing a dreary future in which he did nothing more than languish around the palace like a mad specter, he finally had something to truly apply his talents towards. And even when he felt himself at a loss as to whether he and Katarina truly could not only create but also execute a grand operetta that would capture the attention of the masses and become the first of many fabulous creations on stage, Katarina was always there to spur him on.

"Please don't doubt yourself so," she would inevitably say whenever he began tormenting himself with his endless worries. "I know our work is difficult, but we do no favors to ourselves if we stop because we fear failure. Is it not better to do our best and end up with something finished than to stop half-way because we want it to be perfect?"

Inevitably, her way of throwing herself at her work – which was headstrong and reckless and showed how she did not mind making a mess so long as something was done by the end – was enough to pull Alan out of his fears and keep him working as well. For though he had a long history of half-done compositions that he almost always abandoned because they did not live up to his grandiose expectations, he could not bear to let Katarina down in the end.

Thus, sometime by the fall of their first year together – a good ten months after Katarina first moved to the wing of their palace – they ended up with a good (Katarina insisted, excellent) working draft of their operetta of Beauty and the Beast. And though Alan's critical side insisted that the acts were a little too short on some parts while others seemed to drag on and on – and that his compositions could stand to be better – Katarina had seemed as pleased as though he had managed to crown her queen.

"Oh Alan!" she cried happily, even as she twined her fingers through his in that wonderful way they had adapted over the last few weeks. "I honestly believe that this is one of the happiest days I have ever had – and certainly one of the best from the past few years! And though there is a long way still to go – for we shall need to eventually secure a theatre, and a troop of talented singers and actors, and to entice people to see our operetta – I do believe this operetta is a success on our part. How dearly I wish to see it come alive on a stage!"

"As do I," Alan confessed, forcefully letting go of his perfectionism in light of the happiness on Katarina's face. "Although…"

Here he smiled, though he knew that Katarina could not see it through the mask he always donned around her when they had no screen between them.

"Perhaps that means we ought to celebrate our achievement in style?" Alan suggested, already having come up with a way to sweep Katarina off her feet to repay her for all that she had done for him already.

And when Katarina cocked her head at him and looked intrigued, Alan bowed gallantly and took her hand again in his own and then treated her to the first romantic evening that he had ever dared to plan for the woman of his dreams.

It began, of course, with a ten-course dinner bursting with all of Katarina's favorites, including so many cakes and desserts that the panoply of them threatened to dismantle the dining table under their weight. Then, after Katarina had happily eaten her fill while Alan had watched, too nervous to eat, they had gone to his private musical observatory so that he could play more of their operetta's compositions on his piano while she sang along happily. Then Alan played his strongest card at long last.

And by the time that Alan had led her to the rooftop so that they could have an excellent view of the fireworks that he had arranged to be set off in the distance, Katarina looked so incandescent with joy, it almost hurt to look at her.

"I," Alan managed at last, all of his practiced gallantry falling off of him like an ill-fitting cloak, "hope that you – you enjoyed this spectacle, my lady. I know you have been having a – a difficult time over the last few months and wanted you to know that – that I would do anything to make you happy when you are, well. With me."

For a long time, Katarina did not speak, her eyes simply staring at the night sky even as the fireworks died away, leaving only stars in their wake. But when her voice came at last, it sounded as though she was…

"You," she said, very softly but distinctly, "have made the happiest I have ever been during all of my years. And even if you never show me your face, I think I will continue to feel this way so long as you allow me to be close to you."

And that was when Katarina likely shaved a few years off of Alan's already precarious lifeline by leaning forward and kissing him on the smooth porcelain of his mask, her eyes closed even as a beautiful blush played upon her cheeks.

When she withdrew, an even brighter flush suffused Alan's face and Katarina –

Oh, Katarina looked so incandescent, she could outdo any fireworks that might paint the late autumn sky.

"One day," she said softly, "I will kiss you upon your skin, my dear prince. But until you are ready for that, I will continue patiently waiting for whatever you will reveal for me."

And even as Alan blushed and stuttered, he knew he was looking forward to her keeping that promise eventually.

It seemed as though at long last, he had a future to look forward to – and a wonderful, warm, winsome woman who would accompany him no matter how frail or inept or hideous he often might be.

The very next day, Jeord returned to the palace to take Katarina away.

Author's Notes:

Thank you all again for supporting this story and adding to the Alan/Katarina love in the world. This little ship doesn't have much in the way of fandom works for it but damned if those two aren't a great pair anyhow. And as always, comments and questions are always appreciated!