AN ENCHANTER'S FORETELLING. [NARNIA]

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE | AWAY

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
AWAY

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She stood under the dazzling candlestick chandelier in the middle of the dance floor, watching how Edmund Pevensie's slim figure maneuvered it's way through the crowd of Narnians and disappeared behind the grand doors of the ballroom.

With her mouth slightly agape, Rose released a breath and took ahold of the blue fabric of her skirts, moving in direction of the Dining-Hall—where as she expected, tables upon tables with traditional dishes and desserts would be waiting patiently for the guests. Additionally, where the lavish goblets and a great assortment of beverages would join them.

It was time for the guests to make their way to the Dining-Hall, and Rose couldn't be anymore grateful. Her stomach grumbled underneath the blaring chatters of the nearby conversations. The aroma of flowery fragrances flooded the atmosphere as she made her way through the sea of vivid gowns, suits, and their extravagant masks.

Frankly, her stomach ached as she pressed her forearms against it in hopes it would quiet down, but instead, it had done the opposite. She was glad the animated chattering was loud enough for them not too hear the sound of her grumbling stomach. However, throughout the night, it had become so loud that you weren't be able to hear what the other person was saying unless leaned in close enough.

When Rose finally slipped through the parted double-doors, the Northern hall of the castle fell so quiet her ears had to take several minutes to get used to the calming atmosphere of the hall. Alas, the great grumbling of her stomach had was more, so she prayed she wouldn't encounter anyone around the corridors. Yet still, the buoyant voices of the Narnians sharing roars of laughter could be heard within the ballroom.

As Rose made her way to the Dining-Hall through an entirely different route, she slipped the shimmering blue mask off her face, letting it rest on the palms of her hands. Even her legs ached from the long waltz she had shared with Edmund Pevensie—the very same one which still replayed in her restless mind like an endless loop.

What she had failed to notice was the small smile upon on her features as she strolled through the solitary corridor, remembering what might have happened if only they had stayed in the ballroom for a few more seconds.

It was such an experience for her. Sure, she had attended many balls in the past, but none of the many waltzes shared with foreign lords, and Narnians, had made her heart soar with euphoria. None of them caused her to feel the excitement rushing through her veins like she felt that night during the start of the waltz with a certain King. She only hoped the opportunity would come a second time. Needless to say, as she mindlessly strolled alone, the ache of her stomach was soon replaced with the familiar giddy butterflies from earlier that evening.