The Dog Princess: A Tom Holland Fairy Tale

The Ball

Rosemary tried to steady her breathing as she swiftly made her way into the hall. As she headed toward Timothée a knot in her stomach formed, for she could see he was waiting rather impatiently. He did not look pleased at first, but as she drew closer she could see his sharp glare soften to an affectionate gaze. She smiled at the ground, unsure of her position. He didn't wait for her to get to him, but instead he met her halfway once he took sight of her.

"Hello, Rosemary." He greeted her before kissing her hand.

She almost shuddered at his touch, her nerves running rampant through her. She tried her best not to shake. "Hello, Timothée. How do you do?"

"Much better now that you're here." He offered his arm with a welcoming smile, and she took it carefully. "Walk with me."

Ping! "Of course." She mustered up a smile, but it quickly faded. Conjuring courage, she took his arm and practiced her lies in her head.

"Will you be attending the ball tonight, Rosemary?" Timothée asked her as they began to walk down the Corridor.

The question puzzled her, hitting her out of nowhere. "Why, yes. Isn't it required that I go?"

"Well...yes usually, but after what you confided in me the other day, I wanted to give you the freedom of choice." He said sheepishly, hoping she'd appreciate the gesture.

She stared at him for a moment. It was difficult for her to comprehend, but she felt a pressure lift off of her, a pressure that had been there since her memory began. The release nearly brought her to tears. Maybe she was wrong about him. "Thank you." She replied breathlessly.

"May I?" He slid their arms down, slowly interlocking his fingers with hers. He looked lovingly into her eyes as he squeezed her hand. He couldn't hold back his smile when she squeezed his back. He was gaining confidence again. "I hope you'll save me a dance tonight."

"I look forward to it, Timothée."

He felt his sturdy outer shell cracking, for he melted a bit at the sound of his name on her lips. Soon after he let her return to the Corridor to prepare for the night with the other princesses. The other princesses. He struggled to remember the others. He was fixed on Rosemary: her blithe smile, light laughter, and sweet words occupied every corner of his mind. He hoped he had played his cards right by simply not mentioning the races and attempting to be kind in a way he figured would appeal to her. It seemed to work. In his heart he knew she was the one he had been waiting for. She was meant to be his. He couldn't wait for the season to be over so he could finally claim her as such.

***

Servants galore rushed around the halls in a hurry to set up for the ball. The floors were being scrubbed hard, flurries of soap swishing around the place. Cooks were prepping, baking, and boiling while large floral displays were being run in and out through the kitchen over to the ballroom. Tom found himself whistling through the chaos, sauntering around without a care in the world. The clothes from Rosemary fit better than his own old clothes ever did, and wearing them made him feel like someone important. They were simple and plain, just a shirt and trousers and shining new boots, but he almost felt above his station. Almost.

"Tommy boy! Get a move on, will ya? If you can groom a horse you can wash a dish! We need 'em all spotless for tonight!" Harrison teased him, seeing Tom's hands just hovering in the soapy water, his fingertips barely breaching the surface of the water. There was a window right above the sink where he had a clear view of the stables. He was lost in his daydreaming again, but he was much slower to come back down to earth this time.