Chapter 4: Alone Together
This is ever so much nicer than dancing with a mop! With one hand on the prince's shoulder and his hand at her waist, Cinderella swirled effortlessly around the ballroom, her silvery-blue skirt sparkling faintly in the light from the chandeliers above. And he was smiling at her. And he's handsome, too. He has a very nice smile.
There was a hushed not-quite-silence around them. Whispers seemed to float in the air, and Cinderella noticed the curious glances directed their way. "Why is everyone staring at us?" she whispered.
He chuckled, the sound low, warm, and soothing. "They must be mesmerized by your beauty," he replied, his smile widening as she glanced down and blushed. He watched her for a moment more, then added, "As am I."
She almost froze in surprise, but he held her steadily and pulled her into a turn to cover the hesitation. Surely he's just being polite, she thought. And yet there was the way he looked at her. Even though it had been a long time since anyone had treated her with the slightest bit of kindness, she clearly remembered the tenderness in her father's smile. But this...
A shiver tickled its way up her spine. This is something more.
She looked past his shoulder at the crowd of beauties watching them. "There are many beautiful young women here tonight," she said, her brows lifting faintly.
He lifted a shoulder somewhat carelessly. "I suppose," he said. "But I am not dancing with them. Only with you."
The chatter of the guests in the ballroom was behind them now, as they danced out onto the terrace. She blushed again, then looked up once more, lifting her chin up almost saucily. "At the moment, certainly. But I've only just arrived." She tilted her head just a touch. "It could very well be that you've already spent hours dancing, and I was simply next in line." Cinderella felt her palms grow moist inside her gloves as she gently teased the handsome stranger.
"It could well be," said the prince, nodding gallantly. "It's possible that I've danced with a hundred others tonight." The noise from the ballroom was abruptly muffled as a heavy drape fell across the archway they had danced through. The prince looked over his shoulder and chuckled, shaking his head, before looking at Cinderella again with a quiet smile. "I can't remember, you see. All I can think about is you."
Cinderella's eyes crinkled as she laughed aloud. "My father warned me about men who flatter. He said that such men are dangerous."
"Dangerous, eh?" He wiggled his eyebrows at her, and she laughed again. "Of course, flattery implies deceit, and I assure you, my lady, I only speak the truth. Besides, my father warned me about beautiful women. He said that they were the dangerous ones."
They twirled again, and Cinderella felt as though her heart was spinning within her as well. "Then perhaps you are the one who should be afraid, my lord," she returned, her smile softening the pert tone to her words.
The prince paused, and let go of her hand. He reached up and gently stroked her cheek with his thumb. "Petrified," he whispered. They stood there, still, and then he moved slightly closer, and -
She caught her breath when the loud clang! from the tower clock startled her as it chimed out the quarter-hour. The silence afterward seemed deafening.
With a frown, the prince stepped back, glancing over his shoulder. Under his breath, he muttered, "Thanks, you old killjoy." He looked back at her, seeming torn. "Perhaps we should go back in, but..." He paused.
Cinderella stepped toward him. She lifted her hand, then she, too, paused. "But?" she asked.
He reached out and took her hand in his. "I think I would rather stay out here with you," he finished.
Her eyes shining with something beyond words, Cinderella smiled, and they walked together out into the garden, beneath the stars.