Brighter Than the Stars

Nicole - Cake and Dancing

Normally, I didn't mind dressing up and all of that, but today I was not in the mood whatsoever. Annabelle insisted she could never get me to get a dress fitted or my measurements taken, but I actually did quite a bit–Annabelle would have just rather had me do it weekly. I didn't need a new dress once a week; I had enough clothes as it was, because, whenever Annabelle got bored, she sewed. In my opinion, it was a waste to have a bunch of dresses in my closet that I was never going to use. I only ever wore them once in a blue moon–and I'd rather just have one or two, pick one and wear that, instead of becoming Annabelle's doll for an hour. She managed my hair a lot better than I did (it was thin and so I always just left it down, or in a ponytail when I needed to, because there wasn't much of a point), but she took about eight years to decide what I was going to wear, and then what accessories she wanted with that.

Also, I liked my boots. Even if they were falling apart.

Annabelle and Clara both went into their social butterfly routines, while James talked to some of the people he knew from the guard. Leo could have been having a lot more fun (if it could be considered fun) but was instead standing in the back with me. He had already nodded and smiled at about half the room, and I had probably given them death stares. Accidently. It was why James and I were never good together at social events–we tended to not speak to anyone and generally tried our best to stop people from speaking to us.

I couldn't wait for tonight, when we'd get dinner by ourselves, and James could open his presents, and it wouldn't give me a headache.

Annabelle succeeded in roping James into dancing with her, even though he looked less than thrilled about it. I was already getting a headache–everybody was so loud, and I was so tired. I wanted to be back in my room with a book or something, not here, where there was too much noise and too much movement. Leo slipped his hand into mine, and I followed through the maze of people. "Where are you going?"

"I think you know." He nodded toward the opposite side of the room, and my eyes widened in acknowledgement. There was a corridor opposite to the ballroom that must have once been used by servants to discreetly enter and exit. It was out of use now–a newer one had been built years before Madeline took the throne, and that was the one that was used. I'd found the old one when I'd been wandering around, looking for someplace to escape to, and Leo had found me there when he'd gone looking for me one time, months after I'd found it. I'd fallen asleep and had accidentally gone missing for hours–which wasn't unusual, but when I hadn't turned up for dinner and hadn't been in my room or the library when it got late, Leo had gone looking.

He moved the curtain used to hide the open spot, and we both slipped through. We could still easily hear the music from over here, even though it was faded out, and people's voices had turned into a hum of background noise.

Leo mock bowed. "May I have this dance, marita?" I smiled. It meant "miss" in Aeloni–which meant he'd apparently been studying. He smiled back at me. "I wanted to know what it meant. I learned a few other words, too. And, for the record–" He leaned closer to me and whispered, "J'amouria te."

I took his hand. "Then you may–even if your pronunciation needs work, and you're such a loser."

He spun me around. "I am. But I don't care."

Neither of us could dance very well–definitely not like Annabelle. Leo had used to dance better (apparently, Clara had made him practice with him) but he'd lost his eye and been thrown slightly off balance. Even if he could nearly keep up with James when he sparred now, he definitely hadn't danced since. I'd only danced about twice in my life, both times with Leo, and liked it far better now than I had then–both of us laughing and being stupid, not caring whether we were off beat or not.

For a moment, I was content to let him spin me around and pretend like we were the only two people in the world.

...

James looked almost eerie in the candlelight, completed by the fact that he wore almost a demonic grin. He had been more than pleased with the pile of presents that currently waited beside him, and the fact that he was currently the oldest person in the room–besides Madline and Owen.

Owen had been coming around the palace more often lately, sometimes with news that barely seemed worthy of being news, and Annabelle insisted it was because of Madeline. Honestly, I didn't find it hard to believe, even though I didn't know anything about anything like that. I hadn't known Leo liked me until he told me, and I didn't think I'd even acted like I'd liked him. Maybe I had.

"I'm so much cooler than all of you now," James said cheerfully. "Not that I wasn't before–" Annabelle smacked him. "--but now it's more." He beamed, and then asked, "Can we have cake now?"

Mrs. Dayal brought out the cake for him–the chocolate on chocolate on chocolate monstrosity he'd requested. When she'd asked him what he'd like, he'd probably gone on about chocolate for a good five minutes, and Annabelle'd suggested we just give him a pile of chocolate and be done with it. Mrs. Dayal had delivered, though, and it looked gorgeous–like it belonged in a shop window somewhere. No wonder Leo could cook so well; his mom could work miracles.

It tasted as good as it looked (or possibly better), and James started unwrapping his presents, while he cheerfully reminded all of us that he was now a legal adult, and so we had to listen to him. No one would–or should–but, for the most part, we let him enjoy his dream. Except for Annabelle, who made it clear that she never listened to a word he said, and wasn't about to start.

"Bow down, peasants," James announced. He had begun to try out phrases to address us with, and, so far, "peasants" was a lead candidate.

"Shut up, loser," Annabelle retorted.

"Hey!"

They started arguing about who should take the blame for starting the argument (which, unfortunately, wasn't even the most ridiculous argument they'd had) and Leo shook his head at them. "How about this: you're both ridiculous."

James sucked chocolate frosting off his finger like a toddler. "She started it."

I figured they would go at it for a while.

Word Count: 1,161