13 - Healing Effect

"How?" she exclaimed as she touched her palms. He smiled back at her.

"It's healing magic. The Prince of Fairies can do at least this much, right?" he said cheekily.

"Oh, yes! Yes, your royal highness!" she nodded as she kissed her own palms. "I would've gotten scolded for harming my skin if I went back..." Her words trailed off as she remembered. He tilted his head in thought at her.

"What's wrong?" he asked her. Anemone clasped her hands on her lap.

"I might not see you again, Prince Fairy." She could hear her voice quavering. She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "I'll try to see you as much as I can!"

His dark blue eyes lowered, the honeyed blonde locks falling over his face. "Is that why you're dressed up like this?"

Startled, she looked down and forgot she was wearing her dress. The hem was torn and some blood was smeared on the sides. Her hand went to her hair and she felt her curls coming out from the pins. She must look like a mess.

He touched her cold cheek with his warm hand. His thumb dragged over the softness and then... he pinched her cheeks. "Ow!" she cried out as she tried to pull his hand away. Of course, he was stronger than her. "I came out to see you! Why are you being mean to me?"

"You came out in the rain and got injured. Well... I guess seeing you dressed so fancy makes up for it." His hand reached upward to catch a wet curl that had come loose. "I feel under dressed."

She looked down at his clothes. He had worn a white blouse with a dark grey tunic over. His black pants seemed muddy from the rain where it was close to his black boots. They did seem like simple servant's clothes. A black cape covered his shoulders, keeping his clothes dry. Anemone looked at the dark umbrella. She didn't know fairies needed those.

"Of course I need an umbrella. Just because I live outside doesn't mean I like to get wet," he answered her unspoken question. She looked at him in surprise. He moved away, letting go of her curls. He gave a flourished bow before offering his hand. "May I have this last dance?"

Anemone was surprised. "Last dance?"

"Yes. You said this may be our last time seeing each other. You won't leave me here, jilted right?"

She smiled and took his hand. It was the same size as hers and warmer. "Th-there's no music," she commented shyly as he pulled her up close. Her body stiffened at feeling his arm around her waist and his hand twining with hers. He leaned close and she could feel his warm breath over her ear. Softly, a low hum filled her ears in a slow tune of a waltz.

"Relax," he breathed before he hummed again his song. It was hard to loosen herself as he held her so close. When she had dance lessons, her instructor was a woman and she practiced alone. Anemone had never been this close to a boy or her father like this.