Soot & Ashes

Twelve: O'clock

The grand ball, a flashing parade of colours and swishing skirts twirling around a packed dance floor. For two prince's it was the biggest bore, not because they didn't like to dance. But because they saw little point. It was impossible to find the girls they were destined to fall in love with all in one night.

Theodore held out hope the whole night that he would see Soot in attendance. Only no matter how many times he searched the crowd of faces before him, he couldn't pick anyone out of her likeness. He was shuffling from partner, to partner. He did his best to engage them, to be the perfect gentleman. He wasn't having very much luck dancing with anyone who could keep his interest. Most of them were there because he was a Prince and available, they wanted his money, the power, the fame, the envy of other girls. Many of them were air headed. In all honesty, he knew there was nothing truly wrong with any of the girls he danced with, maybe one or two. But it was the memory of the one girl he deemed to be perfect for him that made them seem so dim.

Then he noticed a young girl whose mother was snapping at her at the sidelines of the ballroom. Pushing her to line up for the dance. The girl seemed hesitant and sad, tears sputtering from her eyes. Theodore sighed heavily, feeling his heart ache for the poor girl. He knew what it felt like to be pushed into something you really didn't want anything to do with. This evening it may be the same thing for both of them.

He cut his dance short with his current partner and made his way through the crowd towards the girl. When he reached her and her mother, they both stopped still.

The woman smiled brightly up at him presumptuously whilst the girl stared down at her feet meekly. She reminded him quite strangely of Soot. He held his hand out, "may I have this dance?" He asked.

She glanced up at him in surprise, her heart skipping a beat and aching in the same instance. She took his hand and he led her out onto the dance floor as if they were gliding on nothing. The girl seemed to stop breathing for a long time, the silence stifling but somewhat entertaining to the Prince.

"What is your name?" He asked politely.

"Arabella Cinders." She replied, almost turning blue for she did not breathe even when speaking.

He smiled a little. "Are you nervous, or simply disinterested?" He inquired.

Arabella seemed shocked, glancing up at him with wide blue eyes. "I...both, if I'm honest sire." She frowned glumly.

Theodore laughed then. The whole ballroom seemed to hush under the sound and cheer, for this was the first time he had laughed the whole night. Arabella blushed bashfully and smiled down at her feet. His was not the laugh she wanted to hear though.

"To be honest, I feel exactly as you do. This is a charade, I shall not marry before my brother and I do not mind that he shall be king. Only my father has asked we both have a choice at the end of the night." Theodore had spoken as a gentleman would speak, so refined, until he rolled his eyes at the very end.

Arabella giggled then, being twirled round on the floor. The Prince was a good dancer, but he seemed like a good man too. He made her feel light hearted again, it had been so long since she had felt that. As they twirled, though, she saw Sven's face in front of her and not Theodore and that brought her crashing back down again as quickly as she ascended.

"You never wish to be king, or is it marriage you're afraid of sire?" Arabella smiled softly, her raspberry lips pulling up ever so slightly.

"Neither and both." He replied. "I wish not to be King because of marrying just any girl. I do not wish to marry because a girl wishes me to be king. Moreover, I wish to marry for love and if I obtain Lands and a Kingship because of it, I shall take it all the more seriously."