The True Tale of Thousandfurs

Twelve

His mind swirling with thoughts, sleep was difficult to obtain but still the crown prince tried desperately. She consumed every space in his mind and thus, landed into his dreams.

Alexander's leather gloves stretched over his fingers, his eyes scouting over the dance floor from his throne. His teeth ground together in annoyance, his patience growing very thin.

He couldn't understand why she would run away from him. The prince! The future king! He could- he would make her queen! His queen!

He ripped off his black mask, rubbing his brow. He had hoped that she would make another appearance for tonight's ball. He only deemed it necessary because he wanted her! The ball was designed by his mother to find him a wife, to provide him with an heir and passage to take the crown. He did not want a burdensome woman by his side, but when he danced with her, his heart burned with desire.

He yearned to see her again. His body ached to hold her in his arms and experience that wondrous sense of familiarity that he just couldn't seem to place.

Right as he was about to give up hope, the same gold that entranced his every thought, sparkled its way into the center of the crowd. Everyone moved to clear a path, forming a semi-circle in awe of the beautiful gown and the gorgeous woman beneath it.

The mysterious stranger smiled up at him, giving a curtsey that made his heart thunder in his chest a way it never had before. Confidently he stood from his throne, his back straight and his chest out. He threw down his mask, and strode down the stairs to meet her on the ballroom floor, the sword at his side hitting his hip with each step closer to her.

He did his best to remain calm and composed, his demeanor cold, but nothing could stop his brilliant smile that snuck its way onto his face, "My lady." He greeted, bowing only a few feet from her.

"My Lord."  Her face which he so longed to see was covered by the same mask as before, only now it seemed to be obscuring more of his view.

He didn't like that.

He reached forward and touched the edges tugging at it softly to try and remove it, but it wouldn't budge. Her hand shot up and grabbed his wrist freezing his movements. Not because she was strong but because the very lightest touch made his mind wander to places he knew it should not go.

He noticed her gloves were missing and her fingernails did not match the woman standing before him. They were broken and ragged, dirt beneath each nail, but one finger remained clean and untouched, a golden band wrapped around it, "Please your highness." Her voice shook in fear that he could not place but still he retreated, not wanting to upset her.

"I have been waiting for you, my dear." He told her, extending his hand in an invitation for her to dance.

Her smile lit his soul on fire and as she accepted, the violins and trumpets began their chorus, vibrations filling the floor where they stood. Prince Alexander wasted no time pulling her to him, and grasping her waist in a grip she would never escape. He had her now and he was not allowing her to leave him behind again. At each strum, he spun her gracefully causing her skirt to billow like a balloon, a wide birth between them and all the other guests.

"You look stunning this evening, my lady," He spoke close to her ear, inhaling the perfume that scented her golden hair, like straw that had been spun into gold.

"Thank you, my lord." She bowed her head, her hand slipping from his shoulder and down his chest, to the buttons of his coat, "You are possibly the most handsome man in the land."

"Possibly?" He smirked, his fingers skimming over her cheek to her jawline, "You offend me." He grabbed the back of her neck, pulling her face closer to his.