Hearts at War (AlanxJeff) VI

5

Alan

What on earth was Pete thinking? I understand he wants to resolve the conflict as quickly and effectively as possible, but marriage is no small matter. I would be tied to that spoiled little boy for life. It was a really high price to pay. And, considering the past, how could we trust each other? I just didn't see it as possible.

And now, a dance. He must know, he surely knows, what this will stir up among the people. The heirs of two kingdoms that hate each other closing King Pete's ball. Rumors and speculations will fly. I suppose he wants to set a precedent so that, if his proposal is accepted, there will be a basis for closeness.

The last song was announced. Everyone headed to the dance floor. I took a deep breath. It's just a dance. You can handle it, Alan. It's just a dance.

I hadn't lost sight of the boy since we rejoined the ballroom. I didn't miss how his face lit up talking to another noble. A noble who seemed to have intentions of asking him to dance. I felt a strange and uncomfortable pang in my heart and hurried over, my heart pounding.

"Prince Jeff," I said with extreme politeness as I made a superficial bow.

"Yes?" he asked, expressing absolutely nothing. Which, given the circumstances, was extremely difficult. He was doing it on purpose.

I smiled, fighting the urge to turn around and leave. Ignoring the looks and whispers, I said as sweetly as I could, "You promised me a dance."

Clearly, he hadn't promised any such thing, but Pete had asked for it specifically, so he had no choice but to play along. I could see how he sighed resignedly and nodded reluctantly. He turned and gently apologized to the noble he was with before finally sliding his hand into mine. I couldn't help but notice it was smaller than mine.

The ballroom was filled with twinkling lights and the murmur of conversations. Couples twirled elegantly to the music, creating an almost magical atmosphere. I guided him to the center of the dance floor, where there were already several other couples. I gently placed my hand on his lower back and pulled him a little closer to me. He felt too close. This was one of the reasons I didn't like this type of music at dances, but at this moment, it wasn't as if I had another choice. I felt him flinch and tense up before we started to dance. Or tried to.

We had barely made a few turns and he had already stepped on me at least three times. Was he doing it on purpose? Each time he whispered "sorry, sorry" more tremulously, while looking at the floor and squeezing his precious eyes shut every time he did it again.

"Don't you know how to dance?" I asked curiously, trying to keep my tone neutral.

"I already said I'm sorry," he muttered without looking up from the floor, his voice barely a whisper.

I felt a mix of frustration and compassion. Despite everything, there was something about his vulnerability that moved me. I tried to guide him more gently, hoping he would relax a bit.

"That wasn't my question," I insisted, trying to catch his gaze.

"Your question is extremely rude. Considering your social status, I thought you would have better manners, your highness," he replied, his tone cold and distant.

I don't know why being called "your highness" by him felt so uncomfortable and aggravating. Maybe it was his tone, so full of disdain. I stopped abruptly and he lifted his gaze from the floor, his eyes reflecting a mix of surprise and fear. I hated that look. Was he nervous?

I smiled, trying to ease the tension that had formed between us.

"When you dance, you should look your partner in the eyes," I said, tightening my grip on his back a bit and pulling him closer to me. "For this dance, we need to be a little closer. It's considered a soft and romantic dance."