Dancing with the Monarch

Background music: Trumpet voluntary by J. S. Bach.

Cordelia had a grim look on her face as she watched the Grand Prince entered the ballroom and went to sit lazily on a red velvet Victorian armchair on a raised platform.

The Grand Prince's fan girls never lied. The devil had a pretty face. Too bad, vengeance is no respecter of beauty.

Tonight was the night she finally saw the face of her father's killer and it was a gorgeous one. Oh, she couldn't wait to get down to business.

There were tiny whispers of word after the Grand Prince entered the ballroom. The Grand Prince placed one of his legs on the kneel of the other one and cleared his throat to get the attention of the women. Everyone stopped whispering and curtised before him.

Sylvester scanned the entire people in the ballroom with his eyes. He looked bored as he stood from the armchair and sauntered down the small staircase to be on the same floor level with women. This year's ball will be another of dancing with women with little or no interest to him. He had been dancing with all women from both far and near and none of them happened to be the one.

' Maybe the witch was lying', he had thought one time ago but then, he knew the great witch never lied about prophecy.

In accordance to the prophecy, he began to host a ball every year, believing that one day, she would come. Since he cannot go out and search for her because he did not know how she looked like. So, he diversed a way of getting touch with every woman in hopes of of getting to meet her but for the past ten years, there had been no results.

Sylvester caressed the cheek of the first woman he came to, with his forefinger. He looked up and snapped his fingers for the music to begin. The instrumentalists began to play and all women moved to surround the Grand Prince, making him to be in the center.

Cordelia moved among the others to where the Grand Prince would see her.

Sylvester watched the faces of the women that surrounded him until his gaze stopped on a woman in a dark red gown.

Their eyes meet.

Sylvester felt drawn towards her. Was it the color of the dress? Dark red also symbolizes dark passion and desire just as it symbolizes vengeance and death to Cordelia. Colors have so many meanings.

Could it be her striking beauty? She looked so bold and confident.

He liked that.

Unlike other woman who loved to look demure and fluttered their eyes at him, she locked eyes with him straight on.

Sylvester felt his feet move under his legs, going to her. One after the other.

Cordelia's heart began to pound in her chest as she saw him move towards her. On the outside, she looked so calm but on the inside, her heart chose to dance the samba, the salsa and the mambo at the same time!

The Grand Prince stopped when he was close enough.

"Milady, may I have this dance?", Sylvester held and asked politely just like every gentleman would. Cordelia felt the venom of hatred at the back of her throat as she looked at him. He was clad in a black royal suit. His blonde locks rested close to his forehead which was separated by a parting. His green eyes shone like emeralds under the. chandeliers above. He was indeed handsome.

"Yes, Your Royal Highness", Cordelia said stiffly and placed her hand on his.

Sylvester felt the soft skin of her hand before pulling her to the center of the ballroom. He placed his left hand on her waist and held his right hand with hers and began to dance rhythmically in space.

Cordelia felt odd with the close proximity. She glanced at his long fingers that held hers. Quiet anger and loath rose within her like bubbles. She could imagine thkse fingers that held her hand so gingerly to be the same fingers that ripped her father's heart out out of his chest. She felt disgusted. How she

wished to chop off those damn fingers at the moment.

"What is your name?", he asked in low tone. His throaty voice sounded pleasant in her ears but she brushed that thought away. There was no way she would like the voice that laughed hysterically as her father took his last breath. No way!

"Cordelia ", she replied curtly.

"What a beautiful name", he commented as he twirled her around before returning his hand to her waist. This time he pulled her closer to his body.

A growl rumbled at the back of his mind. A look of surprise bloomed his face. Sylvester was sure that he heard that sound clearly. The witch had told that there will be a sign if the one showed up. Could it... could she be the one... the woman he had been waiting for...was her? A wave of elation surged through Sylvester as he pulled her more closer to his body, almost merging her into him.

He closed his eyes and inhaled her scent. She smelled like gardenia and peach blossoms. A sweet floral smell which made that growl to rumble a little louder. He wanted to inhaled this scent forever.

The women in the ballroom became envious because the Grand Prince had been dancing with Cordelia for a while now and he hadn't left her alone for them.

A sharp pain shot through his footsteps despite the leather bookshelves was wearing. Sylvester opened his eyes.

"I am so sorry, Your Royal Highness. That was a misstep", Cordelia apologized falsely. She stepped on his footsteps intentionally but her voice sounded sincere, " I think you should have a dance with the other women too", she suggested. She didn't think she could tolerate been with him. The more they danced and was pulled to him, the more she felt like killing him on a spot.

"Why? I want to dance with you", he insisted.

"I am already tired. That was the reason for my misstep. If we continue to dance I might end up kicking your legs", she spoke. But what she wanted to do was more than kicking legs.

"Alright, I will let you be", Sylvester stopped dancing and released her. He did not want to let her go. It felt like something treasured was taken away from him, "But when you feel less tired, we'll do more than dancing", he leaned close to her and whispered huskily.

Cordelia snickered inwardly as she walked away out of the ballroom. She reached outside and began to take deep breaths as if the ballroom was stuffy for her to breathe properly.