Cinderella

Chapter Six

Emil had sequestered himself in a niche of the auditorium, the doublet embroidered with silver thread making his arms constantly itch as he halfheartedly watched the actors perform on the stage. He was miffed at his parents for setting up another party and for the horrible job they were doing at covering up their intentions.
One of the actors bent down on one knee in front of a garishly clad actress. "Mirette," he crooned, "thou art the one and only soul to whom my heart has lent its possession. I ask you now, while the fair dove calls from atop the elm tree, the sun creeps closer yet to the horizon, wilt thou become my sweet and loving wife?" Emil had told his parents countless times that he would rule alone, and when met with the challenge of finding an heir, he would adopt a child or give the throne to his little cousin Erland.
He stared at the girls, lavishly clothed in colorful dresses with faces covered in makeup as they intently kept their glassy eyes on the show. They gave off the strong impression of painted roses, already beautiful but falsely believing that bright colors and bigger eyes would make them look more appealing.
The play ended after a little while, the orchestra ending their dramatic reprise with a long chord. Some of the ladies' eyes had filled with tears at the tragic conclusion, and Emil followed their rustling skirts out the door. He made his way up to the roof and gazed up at the night sky, hating the glow that emanated from the palace below him, the malicious light that obscured some of the stars. He started when he heard the door creak open, and a lady walked through.
"Oh!" she said nervously, "Hello. I didn't mean to intrude. I'll be going, then..."
"No need," Emil said flatly, looking at her. She was very pretty. Her skin was a lovely dark tan, and she had big brown eyes that glistened in the moonlight. She wasn't wearing any makeup, and he saw comical kinks in her long, dark hair from being recently tied. Her dress was the color of the sky above him, and peppered with tiny white pearls as the latter was with stars.
"Oh," she said, smiling shyly, "a-alright."
"Actually," said Emil, "my parents will, er, be quite disappointed if I don't interact with at least one person at this awful party, will you-" he blushed, "go on a walk with me?"
The lady seemed to be speechless for a moment. Her eyes widened. "I'd love to!" she said, voice sounding like a bell to his eager ears.
"Then let's go," Emil said with a smile. He had not smiled in a long time, six months, eight days and eleven hours to be exact. It felt quite pleasant. He held the door open for her and they walked down the stairs.
They were flooded in light as they stepped out onto the dance floor. "Are we gonna try to look like a couple?" she asked whimsically, bowing her head as a blush creeping up her cheeks.
"I think we should, if my parents will be watching," he said with a sigh as his eyes swept the room for a sign of the obnoxious pair that would, no doubt, be watching his every move.
"Your parents?" the girl said, "I thought only people eligible to be married could come to this party." Emil was surprised, not offended, that she did not know who he was. He contemplated this fact for a moment, then decided he would not tell her he was the Crown Prince. He was tired of people treating him as their superior, tired of not being seen as a human with emotions who walked, talked, and breathed.
"Y-yes," he lied, "my parents are servants here at the king's palace."
"In that case..." the lady trailed off.
Emil extended his hand toward her, and she took it. He tried not to let his happiness show, to keep his face solemn and stony as always. Although they were both wearing gloves, his hand tingled pleasantly.