I notice his presence out of the corner of my eye. It is hard not to with the way the crowd flows around him. The way people turn and stare. The way people grow quiet as he nears then break out into chatter after he passes.
He appears to simply be making the rounds. Greeting guests, making a little small talk then leaving for the next group.
I hope this means he is going to pass me by. I make sure not to look at him directly, simply watching the dancing and the people, not making eye contact.
However, luck is not on my side (it never is). He approaches me.
"Greetings my lady. Are you enjoying the celebration so far?" He makes a little bow. Smile perfect and practiced. The picture of a gentleman simply making sure his guests are happy.
"I am, your highness. I wish you a happy birthday and good fortune in the year to come." I curtsy back. My posture perfect, my smile polite and equally practiced. The picture of a proper lady greeting a prince.
I expect him to leave after this point. It is what he did with everyone else he passed, he exchanged pleasantries, then left. Why would I be different? Why would he want to stay to talk with me?
Apparently he did though. No matter how much I truly wish he didn't.
"You appear to be all on your own over here. Would you perhaps care for a dance with me, my lady?" He enquires, much to my shock. I blink at him for a moment, he extends a hand to me. I look at it. What is happening, why would he ask me something like this? Had my father somehow convinced him to approach me?
Perhaps I am overthinking this though. This is likely just another way to bring me into the plot. He asks me to dance, somehow this leads to me being characterized as the evil villainess I am. The story moves forward. What his exact reasons are don't really matter. The outcome will always be the same.
Once more pulling my apathy around me, settling back into the mask I had been startled out of. I take his hand. It is not as though I can do anything else even if I wanted to. One does not simply turn down the crown prince of the empire.
"I would be honored to dance with you, your highness."
He leads me out onto the dance floor. People parting before us and left whispering in our wake. This was likely going to be circulating the gossip mill for months after this. My father will be so pleased (unfortunately).
As we move to begin the dance he looks down at me.
"I don't believe I ever got your name my lady."
"Ah, my apologies your highness. I am Madeleine Blackwood. Daughter of Duke Blackwood." I make eye contact with him. This is the first time I have really looked at him since he asked me to dance.
He truly looks like he was sculpted from stone by the finest of artists. The sort of statue that would be someone's once in a lifetime masterpiece. Hair shining like spun gold, eyes somehow like both the brightest skies and the darkest oceans.
Dressed in a suit of white and gold. Each intricate detail of the suit gleaming in the candle light.
A true shame that I have seen him stare at me with hatred, or watch with satisfaction as I am executed too many times to truly appreciate his beauty properly. Maybe he doesn't remember it, and it might not have been with this exact face. But it was him, and I remember. I cannot forget.
The dance is textbook perfect, it takes little thought, having done this thousands of times by now. There is little to do but watch the way light and shadow dance across the princes face as we turn and sweep across the floor.
"Tell me, Lady Madeleine, did you come here with an escort? You were standing alone earlier but I find it hard to believe a lady such as yourself came without a partner." It feels strange for him to address me with such a calm, even voice. No hidden malice, or hate. He sounds genuinely curious even (How concerning).
"I came only with my father, your highness." The bare minimum, I remind myself. That is the goal of this life, do the bare minimum. So I offer only the information asked for, giving away nothing else.
"You are not betrothed?" A shake of my head. "I am surprised, I had thought a lady as beautiful as you would have a line of men asking for her hand." Now a compliment? What a strange direction this plot is taking.
"There have been offers made before, but my father deemed than none of them were worthy of the families name." After all it is not me who decides who I marry, that right goes to my father.
"I see, only the best for his daughter."
It was meant as a joke, but the comment made the ever present hatred for my father flare up within me. Though, I quickly stomped it out when remembering I am standing in front of someone who had killed me on multiple prior occasions and could not afford that show of weakness.
"Something like that your highness."
The song finally comes to an end (Thank the stars) and we separate. He bows, I curtsy.
"Thank you for the dance my lady. I do hope to see you again sometime"
"Of course, your highness." I respond, a little numb as I turn and walk away. I do not in fact want to see his face ever again if I can help it. This entire night has been so strange. I almost miss the animosity, that at least is familiar. Both Prince Alaric and Archmage Faryll were weirdly nice and it is not helping at all with my attempts to do the least amount possible because if they're nice to me I am required to be at least polite back to them. Being polite is exhausting and at least when their being awful I can usually just stand and say nothing.
I hope I do not have to see any other characters again tonight. It is a futile hope, and by wishing for it I am likely jinxing myself and making it less likely to happen but a girl can dream, right?