Shattered
Who is she?
Where did she come from?
Isn't she lovely?
Do you know her family?
Hemmed in on all sides by the most eligible ladies from the most aristocratic families, the Prince could only watch and despair as the girl with the quiet eyes fled out of the palace. It was not until he had greeted each of them (again) and promised every one of them a dance that they finally broke away in little gossiping clusters of two and three and headed back to the ballroom.
By the time he finally made his way down the front staircase, there was no sign of the mysterious young woman. But he saw his uncle, the Grand Duke, speaking with a group of the palace guards. As he walked briskly over, the duke turned toward him, drawing his feet together with a snap and his hands behind his back with his chest puffed out.
The prince merely nodded to him, then looked to one of the guards. "Have a horse saddled and brought to me immediately", he commanded. The guard saluted, and the prince turned to the duke. "Tell my father that I will not rest until I have found her," he said.
"Ah, y-your Highness," the duke began. "I have already sent a company of Royal Guards after her coach; it will not take them long to bring her back to the palace. Perhaps it would be best to ah to attend to your guests?" He let out a nervous little laugh when the prince s expression tightened. "There is no need to trouble yourself." He swallowed and attempted a smile. "Or, ah, your father."
One of the liveried stable boys ran toward them, leading a dappled silver charger. Looking from the horse to the duke, the prince sighed. "Thank you, Hubert," he said to the boy. "It seems I will not need my horse, after all." The child bowed and ran off again, and the prince turned to his uncle. When she is found, you will notify me at once." He paused, then added, "Does that belong to her?"
Beads of sweat dotted the Grand Duke's forehead. "Ah - erm - I beg your pardon?" he stammered.
The prince took a careful breath. "Whatever it is that you're holding behind your back, Uncle," he said.
"Oh! this! Yes, of course, ah how silly of me to have forgotten to mention it," the duke replied with a too-bright smile, holding out a small, clear high-heeled shoe. "She left it behind when she left."
'Ran away' is what you mean. The prince reached out and took the slipper from the duke. Why didn't I ask for her name? And why did she run? Was it something I said? Something I did? Shaking his head, he handed the slipper back. "Tell my father that I will marry no one but her."
The duke's smile faded. "N-no one but her?"
"The only woman I will marry is the one whose foot fits this slipper," the prince said firmly, tapping the shoe for emphasis. "I give my word." He turned back toward the ballroom with a sigh. Speaking of giving my word... His steps were slow as he climbed the staircase and headed back through the archway.
But his smile was still charming, and the young lady to whom he offered his arm had no idea that his heart was heavy and his thoughts were far away.