"Your Highness," Vincent's guard said, stopping in front of the prince in the ballroom. The prince nodded, letting the guard continue. "The ball is coming up and we must go through the dances for it. Do you have a partner for them?" The guard tilted his head, knowing all too well the answer the prince was going to give him.
"No sir, I do not. However, this ball isn't about me having a partner. It's to celebrate the day the king was placed onto the throne." The guard nodded slowly, but Vincent hardly caught it as he turned from his guard and continued to walk around the ballroom.
"You still need to work on the dances, Your Highness," the guard persisted, trying to lure the prince into the same trap he got himself into every year.
"It's the same dances from previous years, Mace. Nothing ever changes here," the prince said, but near the end his voice got quiet. He lightly shook his head and turned his gaze toward his guard. "Nothing changes," he repeated, sounded a bit more sure about it.
The guard bowed his head but the prince simply clicked his tongue on the roof of his mouth in response. "Your Highness," the guard started, bringing his attention back up to the prince, who now had his back turned to him. "The king had been trying to find a suitable partner for you for months. He has selected a few that he is sure you will like."
The prince scoffed. "He doesn't know me." Vincent twirled toward his guard and his eyebrows narrowed. "What does he think? Does he think I'll go back to being how I used to be if I have a girl hanging on my arm?" The prince shook his head strongly, crossing his arms on his chest before turning away and continuing. "I'm simply not interested in his little games. I never was, and I never will."
The guard quickly spoke before the prince continued. "What happened was not his fault, Your Highness." Right after he said it though, he regretted it. The prince turned back to him and looked like a lion hunting it's prey. The guard hardly moved, but he was worried about what was about to happen.
"He didn't stop it from happening, Mace! He let it happen and he let his kingdom see it happen! I wasn't allowed to say goodbye and on top of all of that," Vincent lowered his gaze, shaking his head as he did, "on top of all of that, I wasn't even allowed in her funeral."
The two men were silent for several moments before Vincent turned on his heel again and began circling the ballroom once more. His steps were more demanding and threatening than they were before, but his shoulders were hunched and a single tear drop fell from his chin onto his suit. "Your High-" but the prince simply held up a hand and silenced the guard from speaking. The guard obeyed, following the prince around the ballroom in silence until loud footsteps were heard down the hall. The guard knew who it was just by the sounds of the shoes hitting the floor, but Vincent knew because of the timing and the speed of the steps. Vincent quickly whipped his hands on his face before holding his hands behind his back, turning toward the guard so that it would look like he was in a conversation.
Then the footsteps stopped. The ballroom fell into a weird silence while the prince tried to talk to his guard about the upcoming ball. The king stood by the end of the hall, watching his son ignore him just like he had been for a while. "Vincent," his voice rang in the air clearly, but Vincent didn't want to turn around. The guard clenched his jaw and gave a little nod toward Vincent, as if saying to him to look toward his father. Vinent deflated and turned on his heal, looking toward his father. His father gently cleared his throat before taking another few steps toward Vincent. "I have a few papers here for you. Possible dance partners for the ball."
"I don't want them," Vincent said sternly, gripping his hands tightly behind his back. "I don't need them." He said again after his father lowered his eyebrows a bit. "I'm not going to be dancing."
"You will be dancing, Vincent. I'm not going to discuss this again. Are we clear?" The king's voice was louder, more powerful than it was before. But that didn't stop Vincent from what he was going to say.
"No, we are not clear. And if you excuse me, I'm going to go outside for a walk." Vincent turned away from his father and walked past his guard, trying to ignore his father's stare from behind him.
"Come back here right now!" The king demanded, his voice rising before he stormed after his son. He grabbed Vincent's arm and pulled him to a stop. "You do not disobey me, boy. I thought you knew that by now." Vincent stayed silent, avoiding eye contact with him as much as possible. "Here are the papers. You need to choose one of the lovely girls or you will be banned from this castle."
Vincent blinked slowly and turned to face his father. "You will ban me from the castle?" Vincent shook her head in shock before clenching his jaw when his father's mouth flew open.
"Yes. I will ban you from here and if you ever try to show your face here, you will be punished."
"Like how, father?" Vincent squinted his eyes and began to glare at the king. His voice was mocking, too much anger was behind each word. "You'll whip me a hundred times? You'll slash me with a blade for a while? Or will you hang me or lock me up?" Vincent quickly shook his head and looked away from his father. "If you don't want me around, how about you just kick me out now?" Vincent dared to look at his father now, but the expression on his face didn't change. Vincent wanted to scream at the unchanged face but held in all of his anger. "I bet you my mother would just love that."
"Don't bring her into this," the king said under her breath like a warning, but Vincent didn't care.
"I'll talk about her if I want to. She was my mother." He paused and he took a hasty step toward the king before glaring at his face. "Ever since the day she died and you failed to save her, you have no say on what I can or cannot do." Vincent took a breath out and clenched his jaw hard before continuing, more put together than seconds before. "Thank you for the papers. I'll take a look at them." And then Vincent was gone, holding the small stack of papers the king had brought him.
"Vincent," his father said quietly, but it was too quiet for Vincent to hear as he walked out of the ballroom and toward his bedroom. "Vincent wait," he said a little more desperately, and though he took a step toward Vincent, he didn't try hard enough. "I'm sorry," he whispered quietly before looking toward the throne that he hardly sat on after the queen was killed. "I'm sorry, Maria." But just as always, there was no answer from his fallen bride. He shook off his imagination and walked down the hall toward his bedroom, ignoring the words he had said to his one and only son.
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