Emilie of the Royal Heart

Chapter 59: The Prince Steals a Dance He Could've Easily Asked For

She never woke up this morning. This was a nightmare. Emilie wasn't standing in front of Tiago in a dress like this while courtiers scarfed her up with their gazes and seasoned her with their whispers. No. Nothing this perfectly awful was happening to her tonight. Not in this dress. Not at this ball. Not to a dance she was looking forward to.

Denial kept her standing for about two minutes before she nearly pitched forward. She caught herself right before she crashed into Tiago, waiting expectantly with his hand extended.

The worst thing was she couldn't refuse. And she knew that. This was a public event. She had become a public figure. Sir Tiago was a Keeper. If she refused, not only would it light a fire under the gossip cooking in Tilzen, but Tiago might retaliate by influencing the outcome of her punishment. Could he order her execution? Emilie thought he certainly might try.

The strings of the band were shimmering in the air as they lingered before the next number. Emilie blessed each musician for every pause and delay in starting the next piece and consequently the next dance.

Everyone was staring at her. Tiago was smirking. Emilie could tell just how much he relished putting her in this position. She shuddered to wonder if he would relish holding her close. Suddenly, she felt nauseous.

On the bright side, if she vomited, she thought that would be adequate excuse to deny him. Her eyes darted about the room, praying to catch sight of Elias but he vanished now twenty minutes ago and hadn't returned.

"I... would... be honored... Sir Tiago..." she faltered in a low, sickly voice.

She swallowed and lifted her hand in resignation. Every inch her hand neared Tiago's was another inch that she recoiled on the inside until she became some sort of shelled creature in her own soul. The skin on the pads of her fingers brushed against his warm palm as the notes of the band swarmed into the beginning of a Midnight Lovers suite.

Another hand gripped her wrist and veered it off to the side, snatched from its trajectory as though she were about to unknowingly touch a venomous snake. Emilie whipped her gaze to her left to melt at the feet of her savior.

"Sorry, Sir Tiago," Aurora stared at him with hardened eyes, "I'm cutting in."

Tiago drew his hand back into himself and covered what was clearly a sneer with a taut smile, "your highness, this is a peculiar move given the circumstances."

"Yes, well..." Aurora trailed off. He was at a loss for words and his voice started and died off a dozen times before he supplied, "uh -um... your faction threw me in a well last night. Most would call that a peculiar move given the circumstances."

"It's alright," Emilie urgently assured him, "perhaps we shall have a dance some other time, sir."

Tiago narrowed his eyes at her.

Aurora guided her away by the gentle hold he kept on her wrist, "the music is starting."

"Enjoy yourself, your highness -Emilie." Tiago nodded to each of them before disappearing in the sea of people.

Emilie sighed with relief. She turned to Aurora as he released her wrist and took a step away from her. He stood tall with his hands behind his back. His usual stance, but Emilie remembered this was the beginning of the Midnight Lovers and she quickly brought her arms behind her back too.

It was the last thing she wanted to do. She wanted to throw her arms around him and rest her head on his shoulder, but instead she held him with her eyes and on a desperate cloud of breath, she blurted, "thank you."

"There's no need for thanks," he insisted, his eyes tracing her outline but never committing to her image, "I couldn't let Tiago torment you like that."

Emilie's lips parted. The fragments of her thoughts were collecting on her tongue like snowflakes until she was ready to speak.

Before she could, the cue for the start of the dance came and she had to respond. Emilie strode forward with light sailing steps, her eyes locked on Aurora. It was only a dance, but she couldn't help but feel as though her steps toward him gave away her yearning as much as her words ever could. When the dance turned over to Aurora, his eyes came home to her and he missed his cue by two beats for gazing at her with a slackened expression.

Emilie's eyes darted out to the dancers around them and she whispered to him, "Rory, people are starting to notice."

Aurora swallowed and his chest filled with heavy breaths though he had not been dancing so arduously. His lips parted and with his eyebrows pinched together, he nearly confessed to her, but the music twisted over itself into the sweeping change that Lady Rebecca taught her about and he clamped his jaw shut. Instead, he inclined his head toward her as he lifted his arm into the air to meet hers.

Their arms rested against each other along a spot so small it could've been the same size as the diamond pendant hanging from Emilie's neck. The point of contact made Emilie's whole body tremble. She raised her hand up to mirror Aurora's. Her palm prickled with the sensation of his skin being so near to hers. The heat outlining his fingers left tendrils of longing between the space of her fingers.

Their hands held poised against each other, but never touching as Emilie and Aurora turned to the bounding rhythm of the music. Up until now, Emilie trained her eyes on their hands. She didn't think she could survive dancing with him, her heart beating out of its pattern already. Still, she couldn't help but spare a hesitant look at him.

His bruises only showed themselves in glimmers of light from the ceiling, but their yellowy tone matched the brassy tones of his golden crown. Emilie wondered if his shoulder was still sore. Aurora pressed his lips together and he drew a nervous inhale before gazing back at her.

He looked as though he wanted to say something and Emilie tuned out even the musical cues to hear his voice. Aurora didn't speak. Instead, he swallowed hard and slid his arm along her arm until his hand matched up with hers, their palms kissing. Fingers brushing. A light touch, but a touch they weren't supposed to have. As they circled each other, slowly Aurora threaded his fingers in between hers, still shy of clasping her hand, but delicately falling into her grasp.

The moment after their hands came together, the music called for them to switch arms. Instantly, they dropped their touching hands and raised their other arms to meet in the space between them. This time Aurora didn't bring their hands together.

Somehow, Emilie made it to the end of the dance alive. She was taking the long choreographed strut around Aurora before coming to face him again and cross their arms for one last spin together.

"After this dance is over..." Aurora began so softly that Emilie could scarcely make it out under the final drone of the song, "would you please meet me in the south hall?"

"Yes!" she gasped, "of course!"

He nodded and managed a small smile as they pulled away, the dance music fading out. Aurora gave her a bow and she gave him a curtsey, hope bubbling up in her chest as she rose.

"You must give me a few minutes to collect myself," he said, "but you'll meet me then?"

Emilie nodded vigorously, rattling around every thought in her mind like a bunch of nails in a tin can, "yes, yes, of course. Whatever you must do. Then I'll meet you."