Donkeyskin - ON HOLD

Of Romance, perhaps

*Of Romance, perhaps*

Two days after The Toy Soldier closed, the Winterwatch Ballet Companie moved from their studio lodgings into the Royal Palace. Each dancer was given his or her own room in the same wing as the theatre. Manon, Fleur, Noah, Edouard, M. Beaufort and Elodie all had rooms that opened onto the same courtyard, which made it easier for Elodie to feel comfortable in her new lodgings.

The theatre itself was even grander than Elodie could have imagined. Her father's palace did not have a theatre of its own, so she couldn't compare this one to anything. Still, with its golden moulding and ruby-red upholstery and carpets, and the frescos with scenes of hunting and faerie worlds, the theatre was a work of art. Elodie stood in the doorway and stared until Manon gave her a gentle push, and she snapped her mouth shut, embarrassed.

The first night in the palace, after she'd unpacked, leaving, like always, her three ballgowns–one the color of the sky, another the color of the sun, the third the color of the moon–in her saddlebags, Elodie inquired of the servants if someone named Mattie worked in the palace.

After several false starts, a pageboy pointed her to the animal keepers' hall, a long, low building surrounded by barns and fields nestled right by the palace walls. It was quite late by the time she found it, but, from inside what Elodie assumed was the mess hall, the sounds of boisterous conversation echoed in the night.

Elodie knocked on the door, and, when no one seemed to hear, pushed it open. The animal workers went silent. All of the wore bright-colored clothes, like the people of the mountains. The women covered their hair and the men wore woolen caps. In the sea of so many dressed the same, Elodie cast about for a glimpse of her cousin.

"Can I help you?" a young man asked, coming forward. He pulled his cap from his head, twisting it in his hands. "Are you hear for a job?"

A girl jostled into him. "Stop drooling over her, Conrad," she scolded softly. "That's my cousin you're flirting with!"

Elodie stared at Mattelaine. The little girl she remembered from the mountains had changed. Her eyes were still afraid and sad, but she bore herself with purpose now. Her red hair was hidden with a pale yellow headscarf, wise in this land of blondes and light brunettes, that matched the apron she wore over a pale blue dress. Her ruddy mouth and freckled skin were not so out of place here as Elodie's ebony hair and fair skin.

Mattie hesitated only a second–just as long as Elodie did–then the two cousins came together in a tight embrace, initiated by neither and both. The world outside faded away, as it does when a family reunites after months apart, and it was just them, just Elodie and Mattelaine, two fallen princesses who understood each other perfectly.

Eventually, they ended their embrace, and, without separating entirely (Mattelaine kept her arm around Elodie's waist), they moved outside, away from the prying gazes of the animal workers. In the moonlight, the two girls separated. Holding hands, they looked at each other, drinking in the changes that had taken place over the past few months. Elodie felt as though she might cry, so happy was she to see Mattelaine again.

"I missed you," she managed to croak. This girl, this brilliant girl, was the only family she had, and being without her had hurt as if she'd lost a sister, not just a cousin and friend.

"Me too," Mattelaine said, and Elodie was relieved to hear her voice waver. At least neither of them was alone in her loneliness. "Where have you been, and why are you here?"

So Elodie told her everything, right down to her new name and how frightened she was to be here. She told her about the prince, and the queen, and Manon, Fleur and Noah. She told her about M. Beaufort and about seeing Birch at the market.