-Ella-

There was an old swing on the far side of the Bellview estate that her father had installed when she was just a child. She had been on it only a handful of times since her father's death. The paint was washed away and the wood complained more than it used to, but the rope was still strong and it still carried her weight.

The shadow of Bellview loomed over her like a threat. She was only at Dr. Finn's house for three days before the Duke of Westire arrived and placed her father's original will in her hand. Everything had always been hers. There were no debts that needed to be paid off. Everything had been a lie.

She asked the Duke for a carriage to take her home and the moment she arrived at Bellview, everything felt different. The past week had left a scarring imprint on her mind. Charles had informed her that Lady Tremaine was in prison, but her essence still lingered in every corner. Every dust-free surface and perfectly pressed curtain represented her own shame.

She found that she could barely stand to be in the house any longer. She visited Joe in the hospital. He was recovering quickly and soon promised to return to his post. She visited the orphanage to distract her mind, but when she returned home, she returned to the old swing, and only there, was she brave enough to think. She swung back and forth between Bellview and nowhere.

On the fourth day of her ritual, a figure disrupted the scene. It was Charles, on a horse, coming up the drive headed away from her towards the doors of Bellview. Her swing stilled.

Charles had visited her every day while she was recovering. The good Doctor had worked himself into a frenzy at the sight of the Prince, but Charles was the opposite. Composed, polished, and intense. It was the first time she had ever seen him and really saw the Prince.

He gave her apologies, assurances, and comforts, but Ella had nothing for him. She could find no promises within her. She had no comfort to give him. She could not even ease his mind and tell him that she was fine. She felt nothing.

She asked for some time to return to herself and he had given it to her. Now it was Friday. She thought a week would make a difference. A week only made her realize how lost she was.

She watched as he drew closer to Bellview. She wondered what he would do if she did not call out. She wondered how long he would wait before he gave up on her. She wondered how long she wanted him to wait.

She finally ended her musings and called out to him. He looked over and she waved. His course was redirected towards her and her heart rate doubled.

He dismounted his horse and walked towards her.

She let feeling wash over her and she realized that she was terrified. She let the swing sway lazily to hide her shaking hands.

When she could make out his face, she saw that his eyes reflected her own thoughts, and she wanted to escape them.

For a moment she relived their dance at the ball. She remembered the fire in his eyes when he thought of something clever to say and was patiently waiting to deliver a retort, and she smiled.

"Are you well?" He asked, once he had approached an acceptable distance for polite conversation.

Her smile turned into a brave mask and she stood. She tried to shake out the last bit of fear-ridden adrenaline through a dramatic twirl.

"I am in perfect form. Completely whole" She had reiterated that statement so much the last week that she was almost starting to believe it.

"Cinderella." He enunciated each syllable and stretched out the word, Its meaning evolved with how he said it. He would not believe that she was fine.

His eyes studied her. She was completely exposed to him. He sparked an idea in her mind.

"There is something we need to do first, before our conversation takes us any further."

"What is that?"

She was good at putting on shows. It was a skill that helped her with children, but it also eased awkward conversations. She bowed dramatically.

"My name is Ellanore Treval. I know that we are far past formal introductions, but I want you to hear it from me. Ellanore shortens to Ella, but you may call me whatever it is you wish."

He laughed and Ella felt her tensions ease. She was good at putting on a show.

"I must be the most uncivilized person in this entire country." He shook his head ruefully and then bowed deeply to her. Her bow was whimsical and sarcastic while his was practiced and respectful.

"I am the crown prince, Charles Calvin Vermillion Collsten."

The words were released in one rushed breath. He was braced for her recoil. He offered her his confession as if it were a heinous crime.

She could not help but laugh.

"Vermillion?"

"Charles after my grandfather, My father chose Calvin after his brother, and my mother had figured Vermillion was regal."

"She was right. So regal."

He laughed.

"Yes, I can tell that regal was the first thing that came to your mind."

He drew closer to her, pulled in by whatever existed between them. She used the rope from the swing to support some of her weight.

"I suppose I should apologize." She said with a sigh. Her eyes were downcast.

"You suppose wrong." He informed her.

"I remember saying some unkind things about the Prince. I suppose I have been ill-informed."

"Yet again, your suppositions are incorrect."

She rolled her eyes.

"You cannot censure yourself in front of me. I know too much now."

They looked at each other for a moment. She dared him to speak against her with her eyes. She built her defenses. If he was insistent that he had caused her horrors, she would prove the opposite.

He met her eyes and he moved away from her, circling her. She turned to meet his gaze, but he shook his head.

"Turn around."

"No." She said. She was filled with fire. She wanted an argument.

If they were arguing it meant she could keep away certain conversations they needed to have for at least a short while.

"Please?" he asked. All mischief was gone from his eyes. He asked said please like it was the only thing he ever needed.

Ella turned immediately.

"What now?" She asked, annoyed, but curious.

"Sit down, I'm going to push you."

She turned back to face him and smiled, "why?"

"This is a swing." He said as if that explained everything.

Ella laughed and shook her head, but she sat down. He pulled the swing back and let it go. The world became movement and she became tethered to nothing but the swing and the feeling of his hands against her back.

"You are horrible at this." She called out after a few sad pushes.

"This decrepit swing is going to cave in on you if you go any higher." He responded.

She laughed, "The rope is strong and the tree is sure. Push me harder or else I will have to assume the Crown Prince in all his puffed-up finery has been bested by a swing!"

He responded to her goading and pushed her higher and higher. There was no expectations of words or explanations. Finally there was peace. She laughed as momentum carried her to precarious heights. She held on tight to the rope and let go of everything else.

-The Prince-

There was a week's worth of fears and frustrations that only began to unfurl while he pushed her. She laughed and shouted to him when she reached dangerous heights and he waited with anxiety for the rope to snap, but she had been right. The rope was strong and the tree was sure. It barely even gave into her weight as she reached new heights.

He had practiced every word he was going to say to her. He was going to reiterate every sentiment that threatened to burn through him. He was going to ask her what she needed from him and then he was going to give it to her, no matter the cost. There were no swings in his plans, but as she laughed and squealed, he could not hold back his own laughter. The only plans he had now were more swings and more laughter.

He tired out before she did. He gave up and threw himself down on the grass beside her. She barely seemed to realize he had gone. Her eyes were shut and she looked lost in the air. He watched as her momentum died out. Her hair was wild from the wind and her face was flushed. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. She looked over to him and her eyes pierced him for a moment with unknown depths and then in an instant it was gone. Gone was all the pain and fear from earlier. She looked free.

He tried to think of any other woman who could compare, but he could not think of anything else. She was life. Her eyes invited him to live in her happiness. She laughed with every heavy breath and it made him grateful for every day that he had left. Just being around her made him feel everything so much more. He was excited and thankful, but his anger and remorse resurfaced too.

Unpleasant images of her filtered through his mind. Bleeding. Limping. Gaunt. Bruised. He had been so close to losing her forever. She would have been gone in the wind, sold into slavery and he would be none the wiser. She did not blame him, she made that clear, but he had set everything in motion. He did not need her accusations to know the hand he played.

A foreign object hit him square in the face and his thoughts scattered.

"Oh my goodness! I did not mean to hit your face, truly!" She had covered her mouth to feign horror, but Charles couldn't help but think it was hiding a smile.

He looked down at the ground and found her slipper sitting right in front of him.

He looked up at her.

"Did you throw a shoe at me?"

His worst suspicions were confirmed when her hand failed to hold back laughter.

"Well, yes, but I was aiming for your- well anywhere other than your face."

The swing was barely swaying now and she leaned on one side of the rope, one bare foot as evidence of her assault.

He picked up the slipper and walked three steps until he was directly in front of her.

"This is becoming a bad habit of yours." He informed her.

She looked up at him and smiled, this time not bothering to hide it.

"What?"

He knelt on one knee. He drew up a little shorter than her and now she had to look down at him.

"Losing your shoes. You need better ones."

"I like my shoes."

"May I?" He asked, holding her shoe towards her.

She gripped the swing and nodded. He grabbed her ankle delicately and slid her slipper onto her foot. He was reminded of the glass slipper and his sister's crusade.

"Perfect fit." He mumbled to himself.

His hand stayed attached to her ankle. They both looked at each other and he knew she felt the same thing he did. He saw it in her eyes. She was his perfect fit. Feelings flared into a conflagration of desire and need. His feelings overwhelmed him. She overwhelmed him.

He was the first one to move. He rallied his self-restraint and let go of her ankle moving one finger at a time. The moment he released her, Ella grabbed his arm, and every muscle in his body stilled.

-Ella-

She did not know what she was doing. Her hand acted, almost out of instinct. His eyes met hers, waiting for an explanation. It seemed as though he was always waiting for her.

She said the words that were pounding through her head.

"I am terrified of you."

There were no feelings of revulsion or malice in those words. It was an intimate confession. It was the declaration of love that she was incapable of voicing.

The world can make someone feel like an object. Bellview was just an empty building. Clothes and jewelry gave no warmth or depth. It is too easy to reduce one's self to the value and space it holds.

Ella had imposed a value on herself and kept a careful tally of that value. Her value rose and fell with each new turn of day. Her value rose and fell with her stepmother's disciplines, with her own triumphant rebellions, and with her own interpretations of the way other's perceive her.

Charles was the catalyst that brought her to her knees and made her see herself, not as another object in the world, but as something else. He overcame the numbness and sparked feeling throughout her. His touch brought her back to life and made her body hum. She somehow had already given him her heart without realizing it, and now she craved his in return. She wanted him. She wanted to be trusted when she did not think she was worth being trusted. To be cared for when she had not earned it. To be held by him when she did not even have herself.

She was holding his arm, keeping him from moving, and he looked unsure of himself. Of course he was unsure of himself, she had just said he scared her. She searched for more words to supplement her feelings, but words never came.

He stood up and pulled her with him, her hand was still on his arm, and now his other hand fell at her waist. He did not waste another moment before he kissed her.

Her feelings were divided, but she was actually feeling, and feeling was a gift. She kissed him with a hunger. She wanted him to save her and solve her problems. She wanted to be swept away.

"Ella." He stopped them, he was the anchor that kept them both from falling forever. They barely separated enough to see each other eye to eye. His eyes were bright vivid green and she got lost all over again.

"You terrify me too." He said.

"The fear makes me feel alive." She whispered. Alive was something she did not have a lot of experience in. He groaned softly and closed his eyes. He wrapped his arms around her back and held her even tighter against him. She felt her muscles tense, craving attention.

Her hand reached out and traced the very edge of his jaw and then wrapped around his neck, demanding that he yield to her wishes.

He leaned towards her and placed a kiss on her temple, reverent and gentle.

"I have made too many mistakes already and I will not make another. I have already demonstrated my poor etiquette and I am prepared to demonstrate further. You have stolen my wits and my heart. I desperately need them back, and even more so, I need you. I need you to know my intentions towards you are not temporary."

"Stop." She said. "Please, do not say anything more."

She was panicking. Here she was, throwing herself at him and then immediately backing out. There was something wrong with her and it wouldn't fix itself. She could not get over this rift. Tears welled up in her eyes and the change in him was instantaneous. She had only seen him look this way a handful of times. Each time it was caused by her.

"I'm sorry." She pushed herself back a step, trying to clear her own head. She had no idea what she was doing.

"I need time. This- everything- it's all moving too fast." Words spilled out of her mouth in a flurry. She was not in control of her babbling. "I am at fault. It's not you. I do not know how I feel anymore. Everything has moved so much recently. I cannot find a place where it is still."

She retreated from him until they were barely touching. She was still trying to find the right words that would make the sting of hurt leave his eyes or her heart.

"I don't know what to call myself anymore. I don't even know what to call you."

Those were not the right words she saw them register painfully on his face. To her horror, he flinched back slightly as if she had pushed him. His hands were gone from her waist and held, unfeeling, at his side. A passive smile was on his face in an instant. She scrambled, drowning in words that would not help her explain herself.

"I can feel an apology coming on. Please do not apologize for stating your feelings. My words were ill-timed. I am an idiot. You asked for time. A week is not time. Forgive me Ella. I wish it unsaid."

Goosebumps spread up her back and she felt cold. Everything was so right a moment ago, so perfectly entwined, and now it was gone. She did not wish it unsaid. She wished she could have just shut her own words up inside her and shared that beautiful moment with him.

He looked up at where the sun lay, barely over the tops of the trees and turned back to her with the same self-carved smile.

"Have I made everything horribly awkward between us?" he asked.

"No." She said instantly. When she returned to Bellview she would surely throw herself from the tower for not leaping into his arms, but things could never be awkward between them.

"Well, I have probably stayed well past my welcome, but I needed to give you this."

He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out an envelope.

"A letter?" She asked, her curiosity piqued.

"An invitation. There will be a ball in a fortnight, in honor of the Masserin people."

"They are leaving then?"

He nodded, "A delegate arrives in a week to ensure the safe passage back. You must celebrate with us. The people insist."

The Masserins who had been held in the slaver's ship could not communicate well, but it was clear that they attributed their rescue to her.

"How odd." She said, almost to herself. The envelope had her name written in a neat cursive across the front. The first invitation she had ever received.

"I have sworn to myself that I will not leave your side until you confirm your intention to attend. I had hoped you would be my- guest." He struggled with the last word.

She smiled at him.

"In that case, I must accept so that you can get back to your duties."

He had a strange look in his eyes for a moment, but it was gone in an instant and he grinned at her like a dork. He grabbed her hand and kissed it farewell in a formal way. The moment passed when he should have let go of her hand, but he was still steadfast and the temptation to throw herself into his arms again came over her.

"Can I- can I ask you for something?" He asked at last. He looked truly afraid she would deny him. With her track record, she did not blame him.

"Yes." She said.

"Take all the time you need. I need you to know that I am here for you, no matter the circumstances, no matter how big or small the favor. I only ask one thing in return. I do not want to be your Prince." He said.

Her Prince. Could he be talking about the symbol? The political figure? The worshipped ideal? No Prince. That's what he asked of her.

"What if I have a very important problem that can only be solved by a Prince?"

"There is no such thing. A Prince has never solved anyone's problems before."

"If you cannot be my Prince, what do you want to be?"

His smile was sad.

"I think that is for you to decide. A friend I hope."

"Good. I am glad we cleared all of this up. I could never befriend a Prince. With all that posturing and ego, he might as well keep to himself. I have my eyes elsewhere."

He grinned, and just like that, he was back.

"Just don't look too far."

"It would not matter if I did. You would be there anyways."