Chapter 6: "Shoop, Shoop"

It was delightfully peaceful out in the garden, and as the tension that had knotted in his shoulders through the evening began to float away, the prince let out a deep sigh of contentment. He felt a bit more pressure on his arm as the girl beside him paused, and when he glanced at her, she was looking at him uncertainly.

She smiled, but the smile hesitated, a little, at the corners of her mouth. "Is everything all right?"

"Of course," he said, and then understanding dawned, and he squeezed her hand gently to reassure her. It was quite pleasant, just standing there with her looking up at him, even if that's all they were doing, but of course she would probably get bored, and he didn't want that, so maybe he should do something. Or say something. Anything! Still gazing down at her, he added, "I was just admiring the view." Stupid, stupid, stupid! Who says something that cheesy? You're not twelve any more!

But to his immense surprise and relief, she did NOT giggle and simper, "Oooo, your HIGHNESS, you naughty thing!" as he had feared. Well, she didn't seem the giggle-and-simper sort, but then, after all, he'd only just met her. Rather, she looked out over the smooth white flagstones and stretching lawns, and she nodded. "It's marvelous."

The gardens. She thought he's meant the gardens! The prince sent a silent-yet-fervent prayer of thanks up to the heavens, and then stepped forward a bit. "Would you care to look around?"

"If you..." She paused, head tilted, then tilted her chin up and looked directly at him. "Yes," she said, and her eyes sparkled. "I would like that very much." And she reached up and tucked her hand in the bend of his elbow.

He smiled back at her - again - and led her down the path. "I'm glad you approve," he said. "My mother helped design this."

In between looking around at the sculpted bushes and the statues of fine marble they highlighted, she glanced at him. "Oh? Well, she certainly has wonderful taste."

There were another few moments of silence, and then the prince cleared his throat. "Had," he corrected, his voice tight. He'd assumed she would know, but outside the family, it was more of a political matter, and... Bother. Of course I've gone and put a damper on things.

Because her smile had faded. "I'm so very, very sorry," she said, turning to face him.

He shook his head, his mouth a thin line. "It's nothing," he lied easily, with a half-shrug. "After all, it's been years and years."

She frowned at that. "It isn't 'nothing,' no matter how many years it's been." She looked down. "Maybe the pain dulls, somewhat." The silence stretched, and somehow the weight that had been deep inside him lifted slightly. "But it never goes away. Not entirely."

His eyes stung, and he watched the clouds drift past the stars for several moments before he felt steady enough to reply. "Thank you," he said, and fortunately his voice only wobbled a very little.

"You're welcome?" She looked at him, her brows drawn together in puzzlement.

Turning to face her, he took both her hands in his. "For understanding," he explained. "I mean – I'm sorry that you do, because of course… well, you know." Not going well. He took a breath and tried again. "I wouldn't have wanted that for you. But I'm also glad that you do, because it means that now…" He scowled, looking away. Blast. Why must everything seem so complicated?

She stepped closer, and lifted his hands to her cheek, resting her head against them. He scarcely dared to move – to breathe. A heartbeat later, she whispered, "Now that someone understands, I don't feel so alone anymore."

He wasn't sure how long they simply stood there, nestled against each other. He thought perhaps he felt her move, and so he took a step back. "Her favorite part was the fountain," he said, his voice still rough. They walked over toward it, the quiet splashes adding a soft counter-melody to the music that still filtered out from the ballroom. "She called it her Wishing Well."

The girl reached down, skimming the water with her gloved fingers, sending small ripples across the surface of the pool. "Is it really magic?" she asked with a gentle laugh.

He stooped to pick up a small white pebble. "Well, they say if you toss one of these into the fountain and make a wish, it'll come true." He handed her the pebble, and she held it between her thumb and forefinger, considering.

With a smile, she held the stone out to him. "But I don't need this," she said. "My wish came true already."

"Oh?" he asked, taking it back. "Very well, I suppose I will." He smiled at her, and then tossed the pebble into the fountain. The splash sent a scattering of tiny droplets into the air.

She tilted her head. "What did you wish for?" she asked, as they headed on down the walkway.

He lifted a hand, waggling a finger at her. "Ah-ah. You know better than that. If you tell a wish, it won't come true!" She laughed again. "Of course, you said yours already did, so that means you can say what it was."

She twirled away, the moonlight sending sparkles through her dress. "This!" She beamed. "All of this. It's all so magical! Being here tonight – the music, the dancing…." She looked back at him, and a blush spread over her cheeks.

She was beautiful.

Maybe Father's idea wasn't entirely stupid. "You – you like music, then?" My conversation, on the other hand…

But the girl didn't seem to notice. "I love it." She lifted one shoulder. "I don't… well , I don't get to enjoy it very often."

Was that a hint? He walked over to her, and held out his hand. "Well. Would you like to go back inside for another dance?" Inside, with everyone else watching and no chance for a private moment. His heart fell, but he smiled.

She looked over her shoulder toward the ballroom, and he felt a tightness in his chest. Did I imagine everything? "A dance sounds wonderful," she said slowly, but as his dreams began to crumble, she said, "but I would rather stay out here."

His breath caught in his throat. Dared he believe – ?

As if in answer to his unspoken question, she then looked into his eyes, and added, "With you."

The moon held its breath. The wind stood on silent tiptoes. And the stars hid their eyes as he took her in his arms, and they danced. Did time stand still? Or did it rush past? Perhaps they spoke, but he knew he would never remember a bit of it, for what he really meant with every word he said was I love you.

Eventually they wandered back toward the palace, because of course, he would have to introduce her to his father. They crossed the little white wrought-iron bridge over the brook that cut a path across the eastern corner of the garden. She paused, looking down at the sparkling ripples. "Dreams really can come true, can't they?"

He placed his hand on hers, and she looked up at him. "I hope so," he said. As they walked up the path toward the terrace, his steps slowed. She turned toward him, a question in her eyes. "There's something…" he began. Blast. I haven't the faintest idea what to do! He looked over at the low wall bordering the stairway."Why don't we sit down for a moment?"

Unfortunately, that bought him only the briefest reprieve, because as soon as they sat down, she was watching him, waiting for whatever it was he was going to say or do. He knew – he knew what he wanted to say – he just didn't know how to say it. So instead, he leaned closer and reached for her, soft skin warm even through his gloves, and when the palace clock struck, he didn't even notice.

But she did.

[AN: Woo! Finally! I know, I know, it's been awhile - but as you can see, I haven't given up. This chapter was challenging-but-fun to write because of trying to synch everything up. I think I got it, though I had forgotten that THEY DON'T ACTUALLY KISS YET! I was really hoping to write that smooch but it just does NOT happen, unfortunately. Believe me, I know. I've watched "So This Is Love," like, a bojilyun times now.

Also? Brownie points to the first person to find the super-hidden in-character insult!]