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Against his better intentions, Edward found his gaze wandering away from his partner’s face to steal glances over her shoulder at Giselle as she danced with Robert. Every time he caught himself, an immediate scold rang out in his head and he forced his attention back to the dance. It was not behavior befitting a prince to stare at his betrothed and wonder. Wondering if the way she and Robert looked at each other mirrored how she and he looked at each other, wondering if there had been a mistake, wondering if…
He felt as if a finger was pressing just between his eyebrows and boring down. He just barely kept his mouth from turning down but knew a crease had appeared between his eyebrows. His attention slid once more towards Giselle as he and Nancy whirled past in a stately curve but then he caught a faint noise just beneath the music and turned his head back towards his partner. Her dark eyes soft, Nancy’s mouth had thinned into a gentle but inexorable curve down and a faint tremble moved along her strong jawline.
She was brave even when hurting. The thought flashed through his mind, unbidden, and he moved his hand in hers to squeeze her fingers in a wordless gesture. Nancy looked up to meet his eyes in surprise. He smiled gently, not sure why he felt the need to reassure her but his instincts had yet to fail him. “You dance very well.”
Nancy’s cheeks flushed and her mouth softened into a crooked smile. “Thank you,” she whispered. “It’s been a while since I’ve danced. I’m glad I haven’t completely forgotten it all.”
“A while?” Edward considered the words. By the way she said them, they echoed with an indication of more than a few days. That was much too long as far as he was concerned. He wondered how long it had been since she sang. Her speaking voice led him to think her singing voice would be lovely. Surprised at the thought, he gave his head a small shake before smiling at her again. “Robert should take you dancing more often then,” he announced. “I would dance with you every night if I were him.”
Now why would he say such a thing?
They stared at each other without another word until the music spun them back around to face Giselle and Robert. Edward felt Nancy stiffen in his arms and twisted to follow her gaze. The other two stood in the middle of the dance floor, the glimmer of spotlight and possible glitter surrounding them, eyes locked and bodies still. He forgot to breathe for a long moment and silence smothered the music in his mind. Where was the mistake? No, he could not have made a mistake.
Could he?
Nancy drew her hand from his abruptly and she murmured an apology before she moved away in a quiet rustle of silk and faint lavender scent. He felt the warmth go with her but he remained still. He watched her offer a few quiet words and a graceless little curtsey before Giselle withdrew a step. Robert took Nancy’s hand. Edward felt his heart give two quick beats and then he heard his own breath in his ears. Without thinking, he stepped in and offered his hand to Giselle. “My love,” he murmured.
Did he imagine the split second of hesitation? Never.
Giselle silently put her hand in his and bowed her head slightly, quiet as a shadow. Edward offered his best reassuring smile. Then he led her away from the dance floor. “It’s time to go home.” The words gave him a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach but he held tight to his betrothed, his true love, his one coquette.
“Yes. Of course.”
Her whispered answer sent another drop to his stomach. Nonetheless, he drew her up the stairs where he politely excused himself to fetch her cloak. As he waited for the six foot fairy stationed in the coat room to retrieve it, Edward firmly resisted the urge to look back at Giselle. Something within him knew, without a doubt, that the hurt would go too deep. A low hum, descending tones, settled into the back of his mind, a melancholy but inexorable turn of notes. The world around him that was not Anadalasia had left its imprint. Once they were home, though, things would be right again. Giselle and he would marry and live happily ever after. That is how the world went.
Wasn’t it?
*
Even as he bent to kiss her pale lips, Edward listened to the ticking of the clock synching with his heart and the low tremor of strings in his mind and knew something was deeply wrong. All of the music contained in the first sight of her face faded until he could only remember the memory. He swallowed hard and closed his eyes. True Love’s Kiss. Whatever his sudden unease meant, Giselle needed him. A prince’s duties were clear. A prince saved the princess, crown or no.
No warmth bloomed beneath his lips as he kissed Giselle. All remained still and quiet and she made no response. Not even a sigh. A panic rose higher within him and he kissed her again.
And again.
Each kiss more frantic until he caught himself behaving like a boorish peasant, freezing at the unfamiliar sensation of fear and dread that grew. He failed her. Giselle was lost to his inconsistency, his early thoughts unworthy of a prince. Edward twisted to look at the surrounding crowd and his voice cracked. “It’s not working!”
His desperate gaze landed on Robert who looked as broken as he felt. “Unless…” A swoop of elation and plunge of disappointment sang through his soul. He pushed it away. A prince did what was right, regardless. “Unless,” he repeated, eyes locked on the other man in beseeching agony. He begged not to have to say it, to admit the way Giselle’s song no longer rang clearly in his heart.
“It’s not possible. It couldn’t be me.”
Edward moved himself into a crouch, pivoted on his heel, and reached out. Please. He bounced to his feet, hand still out to Robert. How could he admit to someone else what he could not admit to himself? Time ticked away until, suddenly, a voice, as broken as both men appeared to be, broke the tension..
“Kiss her, Robert. It’s okay.”
Edward swallowed hard and moved out of Robert’s way. He kept his attention on the tableau presented by Giselle and her would-be savior, finding that he could not even glance at the brave woman who tore apart her own heart to save another. That is what a queen did, he thought fleetingly, as he watched Robert draw a shaking breath. Queens were not selfish or greedy or vain. They were not Nerissa. They were… Nancy.
With the hall so silent that the ticks to midnight sounded like echoing shouts, the touching of Robert’s lips to Giselle’s nearly had their own sound, a note as pure as crystal. Then the twelve bells rang and his heart gave a beat and suddenly there was a breath. Above the sudden cacophony outside and the shattering within, Edward heard Giselle whisper, “I knew it was you.”
He smiled. It hurt but it also felt real. The music still played on, with or without him, and at least now he knew why their duet had disappeared from her heart and faded in his. He wished them a long, beautiful Happily Ever After. Some day, Edward promised himself, he would find that as well. Otherwise was unthinkable. Perhaps all would make more sense and his heart’s desire would be waiting for him when he returned to Andalasia.
*
In the wake of the battle, as the ballroom emptied of people chattering and rushing, Edward found himself standing just inside the open glass doors, watching the rain splash against the fine stone floor of the balcony. It was a peculiar almost-melody, just as the entire night had been a peculiar story. The prince did not save the princess. He had been utterly unnecessary in the end. It was the strangest thing and he frowned a bit in thought. The world was bigger here and he understood that, while nothing in Andalasia had changed, he was not the center of things here.
Nerissa had fallen from the tower. Her punishment felt correct and just and yet not at his hand. Fate ran differently here. Perhaps love did as well.
He gave his head a little shake and turned from the view. Happily Ever After awaited Robert and Giselle and as for him… Andalasia needed her prince back. His own Happily Ever After would come in time. No doubt ever existed about that. Fate held firm on that. You could trust it just as surely as you could trust music and love at first sight.
Well, almost. Edward sighed under his breath and then turned it into a little hum, something soothing. It quieted those troublesome thoughts running through his head. Best to return to the portal and home to Andalasia.
Tune and thought and movement died, however, as he noticed Nancy sink to the patterned hardwood floor in the middle of the emptied, disrupted ballroom. Her silken skirts pooled around her as if she sat on a small hill of flowers. Reaching out, she retrieved Giselle’s abandoned shoe and cradled it in both hands, a rueful smile on her face. He watched her considering it, one finger stroking an edge, and a shiver crawled up his spine.
Edward rarely doubted himself. He trusted his instincts. The recent questions were an absolute abnormality. He knew this.
And so, without hesitation, he strode across the floor to kneel at her feet. “What’s the matter, beautiful lady?” he whispered.
Nancy laughed shortly and held up the shoe. “She forgot her shoe. Figures.”
Silence settled between them for a long moment. All Edward could hear was his own heart beating as he studied her face, wondering again at the strength behind the beauty and the generous heart that ceded her expected place at Robert’s side to Giselle without bitterness. Perhaps Nancy did not believe in True Love? Or perhaps she did and had not found it yet? The thought startled him into a crooked smile. He reached for the shoe in her hands and felt a deep swelling of strings in his stomach.
Yet, to his surprise, nothing but a soft and decidedly un-musical “May I?” came out when he held his hands out. Nancy looked startled but handed it to him willingly enough. He inspected it for a brief moment, felt that thoughtful pause again, and then rocked back slightly in his stance to watch her hesitantly draw back her skirt to expose the appropriate foot.
He took a breath and knew she did the same without looking. The shoe slipped onto her foot smoothly as if made for her.
The stillness came again but then, suddenly, warmth flooded Edward and he lifted his gaze, a soft smile on his face while his hands lingered, cradling her foot. “It’s a perfect fit.”
Her brown eyes met his, wide with surprise. Slowly, a luminous smile grew until her eyes crinkled and a giggle escaped. It sounded like the most beautiful music. Her hands stretched for his until he responded and their fingers tangled together. “Nancy, I…”
“Do you believe?” she asked softly. “I mean, I know it sounds crazy but…”
His grip tightened. Music, such beautiful music. She had trailed off from nervous uncertainty but a glow still lit her face and he swallowed hard. Carefully, slowly to allow her to meet his movements, Edward rose to his feet and drew her up with him, hands never separating. He reached for her other hand. “I do,” he whispered. “Wonderful, beautiful, kind… Strong,” he added with wonder. Everyone knew princesses did not need to be strong; they had princes for that. Queens, however, were different and the woman before him would never be anything less than a queen.
Nancy blushed but left her hands in his. “You do?”
“I do. Do you? Will you?” He searched her face beseechingly. “Nancy.” There was a sort of melody caught up in simply saying her name.
She gave his hands a squeeze. “Yes. Just… Yes.” Leaning in, she tipped her chin up, her mouth on offer.
So he kissed her.
And there was music.