Official story part 2

The crowd silently separated to form a path across the dance floor. The prince headed to a pavilion that overlooked the entire court and sat in one of the two polished rosewood thrones that waited patiently for their owners to return each night. The people seemed to expect a second entrance, their eyes moving restlessly from the door to the thrones. When no one came, everyone looked at the prince with concern.
Raising his eyebrows in slight surprise at the crowd’s response, he swung his legs lazily over the armrest of his throne and rested his ankles on the other. The nobles were too polite to gape, but the silence was immediately broken as everyone started to whisper. The prince smirked and nodded to the musicians to play. The couples began to dance again.
“He has no respect. That was his father’s you know.” A lady beside me stated, fanning her face dramatically. Her face was flushed with too much rouge and her nose was small and upturned. She reminded me of miniature toy dog.
“It’s nothing you should worry about, Griselda. The elder has refused to come. You know what that means.” This voice was to my left and was sharp and dripping with condescension. Both ladies ignored my presence.
“No, I don’t know. The whole family is a disgrace and no one bothers to talk about it. One's always late, and don't make me think of the other one." The woman's voice rose in volume and the surrounding faces turned away in disgust.
"Hush, child." The woman left her outspoken friend as a man approached and commanded her attention.
My stomach flopped as a fierce sense of homesickness overpowered me. The ladies had given me another reason to not want to be here. There was social tension against the crown, and if I was forced to stay much longer, everyone would want my opinion. I didn’t have one. I didn’t want one. I wanted to go home.
I sat down on one of the chairs that lined the walls of the room, separating myself from the others. It took me three tries before I had my skirts adjusted enough to achieve something close to comfort. Rubbing my temples with my forefingers I tried to untangle the music around me from the memories of last night. No matter how hard I tired, I couldn’t remember. It was a foggy black mass in the back of my mind that only caused headaches when I tried to probe it.
My mood was deteriorating with each moment that passed. More and more questions came and I didn’t have answers. Was this place real? If it was, what would I do? Where would I sleep? What would I eat? Where could I get some decent clothes? Before, I would have given anything to wear this dress, but now I just wanted to wear the jeans that I had worn two days ago. The music crept louder and louder into my subconscious. I could hear the minstrels plucking at the delicate strings on their mandolins and the drummers creating a soft rhythm. I huddled my knees against my chest, protecting myself from it.
I was like this when a voice spoke to me. I lifted my head, expecting to see another attendant. Instead I saw the prince. And he was waiting for an answer to a question that I didn’t hear. “Excuse me?” I asked numbly.
“Will you dance with me?” He repeated. The people who decided to watch this incident started to cover their mouths with their fans, obviously trying to cover the gossip they were, no doubt, spreading about me.
As my brain hesitantly registered his words, fear grabbed at my entire body. Dance, in front of the whole court, with the prince. There would be no way the nobles could ignore me then. Plus, even though I magically appeared at this event with a dress suited for the occasion, I doubted my feet could automatically learn the dances.
“What? No!” I cried out. Two seconds later I clapped my hand against my mouth, mentally cursing my impudence. I didn’t have to read fairytales to know that an outright refusal to a royal wasn’t done. If Prince Edward of England asked to shake your hand, you wouldn’t say no. If you did, people might think you’re part of a conspiracy to overthrow the crown due to your clear hatred for his existence. I felt my cheeks flush with embarrassment.
The corners of the prince’s mouth twitched. “I’m guessing you’ve changed your mind?”
My first answer was inappropriate, but I still supported the reasons behind it, so I shook my head.
“Ah,” He walked closer to me, a glass of the palace punch in his right hand. “I can tell I’m not dashing enough for you. Such a shame, I’m sure one of these fine ladies will take your place.” He waved to the crowd behind us; several smiled politely, but turned away. “Perhaps not. I think you’re stuck with me.” The sound of his voice seemed to irritate every nerve in my body. Each word he said, felt like he was bating me, trying to make me feel defensive and uneasy. My embarrassment slowly ebbed away to a feeling of annoyance.
“Lovely.” I curled my knees closer for comfort, determined to ignore his presence.
“I don’t think they like me very much.” The prince sat down beside me and rubbed his chin with mild bewilderment. “Maybe it’s my shoes. It seems women are so particular about shoes these days.”
“Oh really?” I rubbed my fingers together in boredom.
“Oh yes.” He replied mock solemn.
“That’s interesting. I thought it was you’re lack of tights.”
The prince looked at me for second, confused; then his smirk reappeared. “Maybe.” He rested his hands behind his head and closed his eyes. “Yes, that must be it.” He clearly didn’t intend to leave me alone.
“You know,” He said after a few moments passed; “If you wanted to expose yourself to the whole court you could have just accepted my hand to dance.” He nodded to the way I was sitting.
I released my knees and slammed my feet on the ground. “You were looking?” I felt violated and angry.
“Of course not, there’s not much to see.” He sipped his glass, his eyes on my face. They were dark green and gleaming in a way I didn’t like.
I made a strangled half-human noise. I wanted to punch him.
“Careful,” he drawled on, reading my thoughts, “I could already have you arrested for indecent exposure. Don’t want to add to the list.”
“You wouldn’t.” I bit my lip. Whoever said that princes were charming lied.
His face erupted into a brilliant smile. “See, this is the most you’ve spoken all night! Let’s see how much more we can pry out of you.” He shouted and two heavily armed soldiers immediately appeared by his side.
My legs locked and I stood, gaping. “Arrest her.” The two words came from the prince’s mouth like bullets to my stomach.
I felt the guards’ cold hands wrap around my jeweled arms.
My tongue felt unfamiliar and heavy in my mouth as I sputtered nonsense. The prince laughed out loud. He wasn’t stopping them; he was letting me go to the dungeon. I hated him; he was playing with me for his own amusement.
I hoped Cinderella would come and smash her glass slippers against his royal head and give him a royal bloody pain.