"I am NOT going to the ball!" "You are going to the ball! Look at this marvellous dress just done for you!" "Just done for all the twenty others of the family who all wish the same: to be chosen! Well, I do not wish to be chosen, so leave me alone!" "Listen, dear, you have the greatest chances of all! You know him and... and he said you were delightful," the voice finished in a conspiracy whisper. "Yes, yes, YES! I've heard it all. I am not going. He said that I was delightful the same way he would have said that the weather was a bit warmer last summer. Don't you understand? He was merely polite." "He was in admiration in front of you," corrected the voice. A sneer absolutely unladylike answered that last statement. "Dear, you are going to behave properly tonight. Or else..." "Or else what? You are going to beat me? Fine, go on. As if I wasn't used of being beaten. Should I show to my royal target all the bruises on my back? Most marvellous dress indeed. Look how it hides all the compromising spots on my skin!" "Elizabeth, it is enough!" stated a new voice. "You will do honour to your family by going tonight and by being the charming girl I know you can be." "Yes, stepmother," sighed the rebellious voice. The girl emerging from the dressing room had nothing to remind someone of the fierce denials having happened only a moment ago. She was slender, quite tall, and she was wearing a white and ivory dress, which was suggesting more than it was revealing. She could have been pretty if a smile had lightened up her face and if the look in her eyes hadn't been a look of pure defiance. "Why do you fight so much? Each and every girl is delighted to go this ball, except you!" "I don't like parade. If I want to talk to my royal cousin, I'll just go to him and say: 'Listen, Terry, I'd like to speak with you.'" "Don't call him Terry!" exclaimed the older woman, sounded scandalised. "Terrence. Was does that change? I was calling him Terry before." She shrugged and made her way to the window. A rider was passing on the alley just in front; Elizabeth glanced quickly over her shoulder at her stepmother who was pestering somebody else, and, taking her decision, she jumped through the window, running to the rider, her skirts gathered in her hands. Startled by the girl popping out from somewhere, the rider almost lost the control of his mount but regained it in time. "Please help me!" she asked, breathless. "They want to force me to go somewhere I don't want to go! I'll just get mad if I have to go to that ball!" The rider looked at the window where the older woman was calling the girl in a piercing voice and he said under his breath: "Just for not hearing this voice anymore, I'd take you anywhere." He held out a hand to the girl and helped her to mount behind him on the saddle, before leaving at an eager trot. "Why this haste to leave this house?" he inquired. "The ball. The ball the prince is giving tonight. They want me to go. I don't want to go." "Why so? I thought everybody except me was delighted." "You don't understand..." sighed the girl, resting her head against his back without noticing. "Oh yes, I understand. I'm doing my best to escape this chore too. So it seems we are two on the run." "They have no interest in me whatsoever. Their only care is that the prince will remember me. You see, we were childhood friends. They count on that to introduce a new member of their family into the royal family." "Oh. And you still see the prince regularly?" She burst out laughing. "Oh no! I even doubt Terry remembers me! I mean... the prince Terrence," she corrected immediately. "Do I hear a hint of regret in that lovely voice of yours?" "Stop with the compliments," she retorted mechanically. "Regret? Well, maybe. Ter... the prince is quite fun to be around. At least, he was. I was never bored when I was going to the palace. As a matter of fact, I was each time expecting those visits with great impatience. He seemed to be never short of imagination! Anyway, it's past now. And you? Why do you flee this ball?" "I hate receptions and protocol and such," he said sadly. "And unfortunately I have to assist a lot of them. Which way, my lady?" "Whichever, as long as it leads far from here." "It's not really proper for a lady to be on the roads." "It's not because I'm dressed like a proper lady today that it's the case everyday. That's just for show!" she said disdainfully. Raising up her eyes she saw they were almost at the castle of the prince. "Not there!" she exclaimed, almost falling off from the horse in her haste to get away. "Calm down. I'm not going to force you to go there tonight," the rider said, helping her on her way back to the ground with gentleness. "But I would require a favour from you..." "Which is?" she retorted, fixing him with her dark grey eyes. "Would you attend the ball tomorrow evening?" "Why would I?" "Because I asked you, Ellie?" he concluded as his horse broke into a gallop. He turned on his saddle to look at her, a strange smile on his lips, as she was staring at him, unable to move or to think. She blinked, pinched herself vigorously to be sure to be awaken and then said: "Oh my! He asked me. I'm doomed. I'm trapped." She sat dejectedly on a bench near a window and murmured: "And I don't want to go." Hearing voices, she hid in her corner and watched carefully through the window. Her rider was there, a beautiful lady at his arm, and she was whispering silly things to his ear, while he was patiently enduring it. The bored look on his face was so painful that Elizabeth felt her throat tightened just at that sight. "Alright, you win. I'll attend the ball tomorrow evening..." This decision taken she felt a bit better and could actually enjoy watching the ball through the window. She secretly thought that it was much more interesting viewed from the window: at least, she didn't have to repress her laughs or to behave properly. And thus, the following day, she accepted to go to the ball. Her stepmother was quite stupefied to see her accepting to go while she had refused so aggressively the day before. She had scolded her, of course, but this time, she hadn't beaten her. The bruises were not that easy to conceal and the stiff movements of Elizabeth after a beating had nothing graceful. The dress was still in the ivory tones, but this time, Elizabeth refused to have her hair gathered on her head. "Let it down," she commanded. "That's how the prince was used to see me." She went to the ball with her family and gritted her teeth in disgust when their names were shouted from the great hall. She had hardly put her foot on the marble ground that a tall man was bowing in front of her. "Delightful Elizabeth, I ask you for this dance," he said. And in his misty green eyes was dancing the most mischievous glow. She accepted his arm with all the seriousness she had been taught and followed him on the dance floor. "Do you remember how to dance, Ellie?" he asked in her ear as his arm was coming around her waist. "Try me, Terry," she retorted. "I mean, Your Highness." "I like Terry," he riposted. "Ah yes, but now, we are grown people and we probably cannot use those childhood nicknames. I'm supposed to be very respectful toward my prince." "May I know why exactly?" "Hmm... Honestly, I don't know. Protocol, I guess," she added, knowing how much he hated that word. "Would you do something to please your prince?" "Of course, Your Highness. I'm supposed to be a very dutiful subject too." "Forget everything about protocol. I'm still Terry for you, as you are Ellie for me." "Do you mean that you never forgot the little brat who was playing with you when you were escaping the castle?" "To say that I was thinking of you every waking moment would be a lie. But I certainly never forgot how happy I was at that time. Come, Ellie, let's get out of this dance room. I want to talk with you." She followed him obediently on the balcony. "Parade, show, that's all they know! I'm tired of this. My parents are hoping I'll find an interesting young maiden tonight." "For you to marry?" "Yes, of course. As if I wanted to get married like that!" "They should be more selective in the people they invite then... My family would not be very suitable for a royal alliance." "Your family has already provided its share of royal spouses." "Yes, and they yearn to provide another one again. Be careful, Terry. Nothing will stop them." "You are warning me against yourself, you know that?" "Against myself? Oh, no! I'm not a suitable candidate. I'm just here to remind you that my family has always been here for you. And that I have sisters who are really beautiful." "How many sisters already? Two or three?" "Five," sighed Elizabeth. "And five cousins too. Plus their ladies in waiting, etc., etc., etc. The household is full, it's impossible to move without encountering somebody. Especially somebody you don't want to see." Terrence closed his hand on her arm and laughed. "Oh, I have missed you, Ellie! Your humour is irreplaceable!" "Did your imagination leave you all alone?" she asked quizzically. "Not really. But without you, it was a lot less funny. You were my muse." "Oh please..." she grunted. "The fact that you said once that I was delightful was already enough like that. Especially that you probably didn't know whom my stepmother was talking about..." "Probably," Terrence agreed. "Come, let's have another dance, or they will all wonder what happened to us. What's more, I like the way you dance." "That's probably the only thing I could learn properly from all those lessons for ladies," grinned Elizabeth. "Hmm... I thought you knew how to play the piano too..." "True. I forgot this one. Alright. I know how to play the piano and how to dance. For the rest I'm despairing my stepmother." "From your five sisters, how many are of the same blood as you?" "None. Same for the cousins. They all came with my stepmother." They were waltzing on the dance floor, lost among the other dancers, and yet Elizabeth could feel the piercing gaze of her stepmother in her back. Terrence's hand increased slightly its pressure at her waist and she looked at him, smiling lightly. He was amazed to see that in her dark eyes there was a new light and that the glow of defiance had faded a bit. "I'm really glad I have found you back," he said softly in her ear. "My life was becoming very dull and it's good to have a friend around in those moments." "You could have come sooner," she teased him. "After all, I'm only living next door." "True. Amazing how I never thought of looking at what was happening next door." She laughed softly and then glanced quickly toward her stepmother. "She is going to kill me," she sighed. "Why so?" "Because I'm supposed to introduce you to my so delightful sisters, not to keep you away from them. But frankly, I have no intention of doing so, except if you wish it." "Frankly, I have no intention of asking you to do so either," retorted Terrence, smiling to her. "I'm not in that a hurry to get married." "I can understand that," agreed Elizabeth. "They have been trying to marry you too?" he inquired. "Oh no! My stepmother wants to have her own daughters married before caring for little me and as her daughters will marry grand people, she should be able to marry me to someone without anybody noticing." "Such bitter words do not suit the lips of such a lovely lady as you are," teased Terrence. "Come, forget all this! Let's go back to the past, where there were only Ellie and Terry." They danced again and again, the prince forgetting all politeness in his joy to be back with his childhood friend and Elizabeth, for once, forgetting her disdain of parade, just enjoying the current moment, knowing even so that she would pay dearly for this single evening of happiness and freedom. Nobody could get Terrence's attention away from Elizabeth and despite all her efforts, Margaret, Elizabeth's stepmother, couldn't manage to talk to her stepdaughter. Slowly, one by one, the guests left the palace and Terrence had, to his regret, to lead Elizabeth back to her family. Margaret, her daughters and all the cousins deeply bowed to the prince while he was still holding Elizabeth's hand, not even looking at them. "Will you come tomorrow?" he asked her in a whisper. "Please don't let me face that alone again..." She quickly glanced toward her stepmother. "I'm afraid I won't be able, Terry... But I promise you I'll do my best to be there for you." "I'll be waiting for you," he promised as Margaret was dragging her out. She gave him a last glance and then followed her family knowing deep within that her stepmother would not let that pass without any beating. And she proved to be right. Margaret beat her so much that her arm was hurting while Elizabeth's back was so painful she could hardly move without shouting of pain. "Wretched girl! How could you do that to me?" yelled her stepmother. "You had the express orders to bring the prince to us, not to stay away with him like a girl without dignity. Everybody shamed your behaviour. You brought shame to your family!" Elizabeth was looking at her silently, trying not to move even when breathing, so that her back would not hurt. "Do you imagine all the work Ann, Helen, Isabel and Aurelia will have to put on to be able to erase that... that mistake of yours?" Usually Elizabeth's strong character would have flared at that accusation, but she was feeling so sore that she didn't reply. "You are consigned to your room until further notice. I think it's time for you to remember who, in this family, is from royal lineage," she added fiercely. Elizabeth obediently went to her room and painfully lay on her bed, trying not to think of her back. The creaks of her door warned her that somebody had entered her room, but she didn't care to turn the head. Gentle hands unlaced her dress, exposing her injured back, and very carefully, cleaned the swollen wounds. "Angela... you're truly an angel fallen from Heaven," sighed Elizabeth. The silvery sound of a soft laugher answered her. "If I were an angel, Lizzie, I would heal those ugly wounds of yours with just a movement of my hand, instead of cleaning them and seeing you suffer at each move you make." "You may not have an angel's powers, but you have his kindness." "I would have liked to be there, at the ball, to see you with the prince. What a magical moment it had certainly been for you!" "Yes... and now my stepmother is mad at me." "She doesn't remember that the prince was coming here just for you, never for the rest of the family. I don't even know if he ever talked to my sisters or cousins." "I think he spoke to Blanche once. She was on his way," said thoughtfully Elizabeth. Angela laughed again. "You were small though, at that time, Angela. How can you remember?" "I have a very good memory, Lizzie, and mother's eyes were following you everywhere." "I guess so," commented Elizabeth wryly. "How is it she let you here to help me?" She could feel Angela shrug. "She doesn't know. She is looking at her dresses, to know which one to choose for tomorrow. And for my sisters and cousins too, of course." "Sometimes I wonder how you managed to end up in such a family, Angela... You have nothing in common with them." "That's probably your fault," teased Angela. "Remember, you cared a lot for me when I was a child. That's certainly the cause why I prefer horses to dresses." Elizabeth clenched her teeth hard so that she wouldn't laugh. "That's enough, Angela. It's late, you should go to bed. You will ruin your eyes and that lovely face of yours." Angela came to her side, took off her slippers and lay on the bed next to her, smiling. "Can I stay with you tonight?" Elizabeth looked at the young face surrounded by a curly mass of golden brown hair and smiled despite herself. "Yes, Angel, yes, you can..." Angela pressed her cheek against the shoulder of her stepsister and closed her eyes. A moment after she was sleeping soundly and Elizabeth listened to the quiet regular sound of her breathing till the first sunbeams lighted her room. Then only did her eyelids close too. As soon as Angela awoke, she straightened up on one elbow to look at the face of her stepsister. Even in sleep, her long eyelashes casting their shadow on the pale cheeks, Elizabeth had still that look of defiance this time tingled with pain. Angela sighed and proceeded to warm up a balm between her hands before spreading it carefully on Elizabeth's back, careful not to wake her up nor to make her jerk in pain. Then she patiently waited for her to awake, which didn't take long. Elizabeth's dark eyes opened, lightening slightly to a grey blue colour in the morning light. "Stand up," said Angela, "so that I can bandage you." Elizabeth obeyed slowly and let her sister bandage her tightly, so that blood would not show through her dress, no matter which moves she would be required to make. Just putting her dress on let her know that at least one of her wounds was opened again. "Will you be able to make it through the day?" inquired Angela. "Yes. I won't be able to dance though," she added with humour. "Go quickly to your room, little Angel. Your mother will check soon." Angela had a bright smile for her stepsister and fled from the room, while Elizabeth was following her, but at a slower pace. She met her stepmother in the stairs. "So I see you're awake. Good, I have work for you. Come with me," she commanded, taking her arm to force her to follow her, not caring for her wince of pain. "I give the staff their day. So you will have to clean the kitchen for them and cook our meals." Elizabeth suppressed a shudder at the sight of the mess in the kitchen. It was as if the staff had taken out all the food, all the dishes, even the china, and put it everywhere in the room, including under the table. Some mice were even venturing here and there, sniffing at the bread and cheese. "I'm going out with my daughters. I want this kitchen to be clean by my return. Do you understand me?" Elizabeth looked at her. "Why would I do that?" she asked defiantly. "Because you don't have the choice, my dear," replied smoothly Margaret. "Yes, I do. I can refuse. I'm not your servant. I am part of this household. I am the daughter of your husband and, for all I know, though he's very sick, my father is not dead. This house is not yet your property, stepmother." "No, no, my dear, you don't see the point. You don't have the choice. I can't break the heart of your poor father by telling him what a wretched girl you are, can I? He is in no condition to help you, Elizabeth!" "But he will feel better very soon," persisted Elizabeth. "And he won't be happy at all if he knows how you treated me while he was sick." "My poor girl! You really think your father is going to feel better? The doctor says he won't. Poor darling, you look so disappointed! Remember one thing, very carefully, Elizabeth: I'll keep you here out of charity." "Oh no! You will keep me here so you won't have to answer the question the prince could ask you someday: 'What did you do of Elizabeth, madam?' That's the reason why you will keep me in this household!" "What would you know of my motivations, child? Go on, you have much work to do." She patted her shoulder and if the gesture could have seemed encouraging to a foreign eye, Elizabeth clearly felt the long hard nails scratching the back of her shoulder and bit her lips out of pride, refusing to let her pain show. The hatred in her eyes showed undisguised as Margaret was walking to the door. Then only did the girl look around her, feeling discouraged just by seeing the mess. "She is right though," she thought while picking up a cloth to wipe the cupboards and dressers so that they would be clean before putting the food and the dishes back into them. She slowly gathered the dishes and china near the sink and proceeded to clean each piece, trying to spare her back the most she could. She knew she would probably be late in her work, but she couldn't go faster no matter what. Each movement was painful to her. Suddenly Angela burst into the kitchen. "Mother is taking me with her in town! I'm going to the ball tonight!" she exclaimed. "I'm glad for you, dearie," said gently Elizabeth. Angela's joy fell as soon as she saw the state of the kitchen. "Oh no! Lizzie, I'm staying. I'll help you," she offered. "No, Angela. Listen, go with your mother. And tonight, dance with the prince. He will adore you." "No, Lizzie, I can't possibly do that while you're..." "Please, Angel? Keep Terrence away from your sisters?" she added with a wink. Angela had a sad smile. "Alright. I will keep him from my sisters and cousins. He will be just mine for tonight." "Go, my Angel," commanded softly Elizabeth, lightly bending down to place a gentle kiss on the girl's brow. Angela smiled again and left running, but in her eyes, Elizabeth had seen a determined glow that wasn't for reassuring her. Playing the overjoyed child Angela managed to keep her mother and sisters out so late that Elizabeth could finish her work to her slow pace before they returned. "Elizabeth!" called the piercing voice of Margaret as soon as they arrive home. "Where are you?" She was climbing the stairs when the kitchen door opened. "Ah, here you are. You should be quicker to answer, my girl. I don't like to come into the kitchens. Those are hardly a place for a proper lady to be. There, there. Have you finished your work?" She had a look at the kitchen, seeing only neat floor, clean tables, no dishes out; the mice had disappeared and a small fire was burning in the hearth. "Good. Perfect. I just had something else to give you to do. Come with me." She more or less dragged Elizabeth into the main hall and showed her all the packages on the ground. "Carry all that into my rooms. My precious and I will sort that later. Naturally put them in order in my rooms." Swallowing back a sigh Elizabeth obeyed and she could feel her heart tighten each time she was passing in front of her father's room when going back and forth to her stepmother's. Once she had carried everything Margaret decided that it was time for them to begin to prepare for the ball and, naturally, Elizabeth was required to help her sisters to get dressed and to do their hair. The girl frowned at Angela, preventing her to protest, and clenched her jaw so that she wouldn't shout in pain while bending down to comb her sisters' hair or rectifying the hem of their dress. She took special care at Angela, wanting her little sister to look her best. Finally, finally, they were all ready to leave and Elizabeth thought with relief that she would be able to rest at last. She was on the threshold of the door, watching the carriage leave, and she thought her heart would stop beating when Margaret's head appeared in the window. "Elizabeth, don't forget to clean the mess you did in my rooms. And clean the main hall and the stair too, you put mud everywhere with your dirty feet." Ann and Helen's laugh was still ringing out in Elizabeth's ears while she was putting Margaret's rooms in order. Then she went in the kitchen to prepare a soup for her father and she made him eat it, giving him the hot liquid spoon after spoon. "Beth, my beloved child, you are so patient with your old father..." he said softly. "Hush, papa, you know I love you. I wish you feel better." "I will, Beth, I will, I promise it to you. With you caring so much for me, I could not do anything else but going better, could I?" "I hope so, papa, I certainly hope so. Rest now. I'll come to see you later, before bedtime." She kissed the feverish brow of her father and went out of the room, taking the empty bowl with her. That done, she filled a bucket with water, took brush and soap, and began to clean the stair. "She trapped me," she thought once while she was resting a bit her back. "She knows I can't leave as long as father is sick. And I can't abandon Angela behind me like that." Biting her lower lip she bent down again and took her brush in hand to continue her work. At the palace Terrence had been waiting for Elizabeth impatiently. When the chamberlain announced the arrival of Margaret and her daughters - and nieces - he thought he hadn't heard properly. He came to the chamberlain. "Didn't you forget a name? There should be Elizabeth among them!" "I'm sorry, Your Highness, but Lady Elizabeth was not among them." Thunderstruck Terrence went directly to Margaret, who executed a perfect bow, as all the rest of her family. "Good evening, my lady. May I inquire where is the last of your daughters?" he asked quite briskly, going straight to the point. "I assume you're meaning Elizabeth, Your Highness. Alas, the poor child has a pounding headache and was totally unable to come. She wanted me to tell you she was terribly sorry." Terrence would have believed her on word - she had no reason to lie - but he caught a slight movement from the corner of his eye, coming from the youngest daughter. It was as if she had shaken her hair, to put it back in place, but he thought better of it. "I see that you came with your youngest daughter. Would you allow me to invite her to dance?" he asked again. Margaret almost didn't believe her ears. Her young daughter, still a child, catching the prince's attention! "Most certainly, Your Highness," she almost purred. "Angela, precious, His Highness invited you to dance." Angela nodded and followed shyly the prince to the dance floor. He could feel she was tense so he didn't speak immediately, letting her get used to the fact she was dancing with him. But then after the first silent moments she looked up at him. "You wanted to see Elizabeth, didn't you, Your Highness?" she asked bluntly. And yet it was more an affirmation than a question. Terrence didn't know what to think of it and tried to be cautious at first. "Well, Lady Elizabeth and I were childhood friends. Seeing her yesterday was a great surprise to me and brought back some very sweet memories to me." She was listening to him with a light smile and a light was dancing in her eyes. "Lizzie's hoping I'll be able to keep you away from my sisters," she said then. He started lightly. "Lizzie?" he repeated mechanically. "Elizabeth. My sister. She doesn't have a headache." "I guessed so. You denied what your mother said. Why?" "Lizzie would rather have a backache than a headache." "Backache? I don't understand." The joyful light in the deep blue eyes had disappeared, replaced by a seriousness that made Terrence's heart sink. "She... beat her?" "Whipped would be more accurate," enounced Angela with calm. "Lizzie was hardly able to move without shouting of pain. I know she wanted to come though." "Yes... yes, she promised me she would try." "Don't look that haggard, Your Highness," she said severely. "If you do, my mother will suspect something. Try to be delighted to be with me, she will be happy and will let us alone. If you want my company, of course." "I certainly do! Lady Angela, let's please your mother! Would you follow me outside?" Angela agreed and followed him to the balcony. He looked at the illuminated gardens in front of him. "I came here with Ellie... Elizabeth yesterday evening and we talked of the past a bit. Was she whipped because of me?" Angela shrugged in a very unladylike way, in which Terrence recognised some of Elizabeth's influence. "Mother is jealous of Lizzie from the beginning. But I agree she was rather angry yesterday because you spent your time only with her. Lizzie was supposed to present you to Ann, Helen, Isabel and Aurelia." "Is it thus so wrong from me to be willing to spend some time with a childhood friend? She came yesterday at my request; should I have been ignoring her for your mother's sake?" "Ah!" said Angela with satisfaction. "I knew there was a reason why Lizzie accepted to go to the ball yesterday evening. She would never have accepted if you hadn't asked her." "You seem to like Elizabeth very much..." "... Contrary to the rest of my family?" Angela finished for him. "True. Lizzie spent a lot of time with me when I was younger. She more or less brought me up, which may explain why I'm not exactly like my mother or my sisters." "Or your cousins," added Terrence with a smile. "That's not funny!" retorted Angela, laughing. "Alright, I have a very extended family. All in all I think my aunt is even worse than my mother. You should have heard what she said to Lizzie two days ago!" "Let me guess... Something like: 'Dear, he said you were absolutely delightful!'?" "Exactly! How do you know?" "That's generally what I said about everybody. Everybody is talking to me about such or such cousin, with whom I had so much fun when I was young. Half of them never actually played with me when I was a child. So each time I reply that, of course, I remember and that she was absolutely delightful. Generally the mothers are very happy to hear that." "So that's what you are going to say to my mother tonight? That I was absolutely delightful?" "Ah! No, you see, it works only once per family. After that I have to improvise. And I try to be a bit more accurate when it's about people I have really met." Angela was laughing all she could when hearing Terrence make his statements with a cool tone. "All good things have an end," he said. "Come, let's dance till the end of the night! I hope your mother won't beat you if you spend the whole ball with me?" "No, oh no! She will be delighted to the contrary." "That's what I thought. A last question: since you are Elizabeth's friend, you will be mine too, won't you?" "I would be delighted, Your Highness," she replied with a bow that was only half serious. "Then forget those two words 'Your Highness' and call me Terrence? Please?" "It will be my pleasure, Terrence," she said gravely. "Then come dance and fly in my arms, Angel of the night!" he exclaimed. He made her dance till the end of the night, spinning around the dance floor, and she was smiling and laughing and so was he, though he couldn't forget poor Elizabeth whipped because of him. Margaret was looking at the couple with satisfaction; little did she know that the main subject of their conversation was Elizabeth. At the end of the ball, Terrence led Angela to her mother and said: "My lady, you indeed have here a charming daughter; thank to her, I spent an enchanting evening. I look forward to see you again, Lady Angela." "The pleasure was all mine, Terrence... Your Highness," replied shyly Angela, bowing respectfully. A light wink told him that the slip was intentional and he glanced furtively at Margaret to see the effect of that slip. She was openly beaming that her daughter had been given the right to call the prince by his given name. "Angela, precious," she said to her daughter as soon as the prince was out of reach, "you are gifted beyond belief. You are a true enchantress!" Angela smiled modestly while inside she was shouting victory: she had done what Elizabeth had wished her to do! Her heart was soaring high when going back home. The floor in the main hall was shining and so were the stairs. Elizabeth didn't answer the calls and Angela quickly found where she was: she had fallen asleep at her father's bedside. Her little stepsister woke her up gently and Elizabeth's first reflex was to stretch, for she had gotten stiff, but she remembered in time not to do it. "How did it go?" she asked while waiting for blood to come back in her legs. "Wonderfully!" exclaimed Angela loud enough for her mother to hear from downstairs. "The prince saw only me during the whole night!" She swirled around the bedroom, singing: "Terrence! Terrence!" She stopped and said proudly: "He told me to call him Terrence! He said I was charming! And that he wanted to see me again!" She added lowly: "And he missed you sorely." Elizabeth half nodded. Margaret entered the room. "So, Elizabeth, hearing about the victory of my little Angela? The prince will soon forget you ever existed and your presence here won't be needed anymore," she added with a honeyed tone. "Oh mama, Terrence said he never saw hair done like mine and that it suited me very well!" exclaimed Angela, as if she wasn't caring at all for what her mother just said to Elizabeth. Margaret looked at Angela's hairstyle; Elizabeth had done her hair and her stepmother knew that nobody else in the household would be able to redo it again. "Well, Elizabeth, it seems you just earned a new position in the household," she said. And she left the room. Angela immediately came to her sister who was trying to stand up without hurting her back too much. "I'm sorry, Lizzie. I just said the first thing I could think of to prevent her to drive you away." "That's alright, Angel. I know why you did it. Don't worry, everything will be fine." The ball had celebrated the first day of autumn. During all autumn and winter Elizabeth worked as a servant in her own house, since the staff had been dismissed, spending most of her time in the kitchen or at her father's bedside, taking care of him. At the end of the winter her father died and the sadness in Elizabeth's gaze gained in depth. Spring came again and brought with it some joy in the house, except for Elizabeth who was still serious and silent. Margaret and her daughters were going frequently to the palace but each time, Margaret found some new work to give to Elizabeth so that she couldn't go with them. The girl had understood the message perfectly and didn't even wait anymore for her stepmother to tell her she had work to do. On the other hand Terrence was not stupid and he understood too that the excuses Margaret was giving to explain Elizabeth's absence were pure lies - especially that Angela was confirming the fact to him in the private discussion they had together each time. One day having finished her work, the kitchen cleaned, Elizabeth was sitting near the window reading a book she had borrowed from the library without the knowledge of her stepmother. Two knocks at the back door of the kitchen startled her. Slowly she stood up, putting her book on the window ledge, and she came to the door, wondering whom it could be. The person behind the door knocked again, twice. Shrugging in disdain to her own defiance, Elizabeth opened the door and found herself face to face with Terrence. "Good afternoon, Ellie," he said merrily. "Would you accept to have a walk in my company? The land is beautiful these last days." Elizabeth was staring at him open-mouthed, unable to say a word. Gently he pushed up her jaw with his finger, forcing her to close the mouth. "Well, Ellie! You certainly look as if you just saw a ghost!" She held out her hand toward him, as if she doubted her eyes. "Terry..." she said at last, her voice trembling. "Is it really you? What... what are you doing here?" "I wanted to see you," he said good-naturally. "Talking about you with Angela is not enough. I wanted to see by myself how you were doing. And I'm sorry for your father," he added with a low voice. "You can't stay here. If my stepmother sees you here, she will kill me for good this time. She says she doesn't need me anymore, since you're more interested in Angela than anybody else." "Ellie, your sister is indeed charming, but I speak with her because of you." Elizabeth had a wry smile. "Don't speak like that, Terry, I already told you. If your parents were hearing you, they would think you want to marry me." "I don't want to get married. I want to stay free to go where I want, to do whatever I wish!" "Then don't be a king," advised Elizabeth with a smile. "You're the wisdom incarnated in human form," said Terrence, putting his hands at her waist and lifting her up in the airs. "Terry! What are you doing?" "I'm taking you outside, since you're not moving by yourself," he replied calmly. "Ellie, you have lost much weight. Why do you stay here?" "Where do you want me to go?" "At the palace, with me?" "To play the role of the poor cousin, living of charity? No thank you. Here at least I earn the food I eat," she added in dark humour. "Seriously, why don't you leave them?" "At first, there was father... Now there's only Angela. I can't let her with Margaret. My stepmother would be able to kill all the gentleness she has." "Ellie, I really mean the invitation. If you want, you can come to live at the palace. You know our doors are always opened to you." "You're a dear, Terry, but I'm not going to have Margaret have her way in my house. 'Surrender' is not a word that I know." "So the real reason is pride." "It's quite complicated. Look at me, Terry: I'm no accomplished lady, like Ann or Helen, I don't know to play the piano so well that I ravish everybody's ears, like Isabel, I don't sing as well as Aurelia and I'm no angel like Angela. I'm just..." "You're just you, Elizabeth, and that's how we like you. For what you are, for what you know to do. And I don't want you to change that. Anybody asking you to change is not caring for you." "Then don't ask me to give up, to surrender to Margaret's power," retorted Elizabeth. "Alright, you got me here. Ellie, I'm just worried about you. I don't want you to be unhappy, to be beaten because I talk with you, but if you think that the path you've chosen is the right one, then I will just help you to follow it." "Thank you, Terry. You are a real friend. So, what about this walk in the land?" Terrence smiled and offered her his hand. So he came frequently to see her, once per week, never the same day, for he quite liked to surprise her, and each time they were having a walk in the surroundings, talking with the peasants, joking with passing-through travellers, and though Elizabeth was not very properly dressed - nor very clean, since her work was most of the time dirty work - the people found them charming and easy to talk to. On the other way Terry was delighted to see a smile blossom on Elizabeth's lips during their little jaunts. But Margaret soon noticed the regular absence of the prince and she absolutely had to know where he was going. Regular absence could only mean an outside activity and she wanted to be sure that there was no young maiden involved who could ruin her plans. So she proceeded in following Terrence and she was so discreet on it that Angela couldn't warn Elizabeth. At first she was surprised to see him go toward her own house and she thought with pride that he was more taken with Angela than she had thought. But then the voice she heard answering to Terrence's was not Angela's. The voice was clear, soft-spoken, and she didn't recognise it at first, for she only heard it while containing anger. "My parents desperately want me married. Soon. I don't know what they are planning, but I'm pretty sure I'm not going to like it." "Why don't you choose a bride by yourself?" suggested Elizabeth. "I wouldn't even know where to begin to look," sighed Terrence. "Why not Angela? You seem to really enjoy the time you're spending with her." Terrence remained silent a long moment. "You see," he said finally, "the problem with Angela is that I don't know if I enjoy the time with her because of her or because of you. For she has so much of you in her behaviour. And I wouldn't marry her without knowing, for it would do her much wrong and I don't want that." "I wouldn't forgive you if you were doing that," replied Elizabeth most seriously. "I believe you!" laughed Terrence. "No, as you can see, I don't know that many young women and none of them caught my attention." He shrugged. "Anyway. I guess my parents will just arrange a political marriage, as usual. And I will have to do with it." "You're a prince. You're used to that, aren't you?" "Is it because I'm used to it that I have to like it?" "No. But you can get used to more or less everything, was I told. No matter how bad it is." "Yes, I can see that," said gravely Terrence. "You are the living proof of that. Why do you continue this living, Ellie? Why don't you come with me? I already made this offer to you." "And I already refused it, Terry," sighed Elizabeth. "You know I can't. Even if I wanted to, I can't. You're the prince, on the point to get married. What would do the poor cousin in the story? I would be a burden more than anything else." "But you don't want," said Terrence as if he hadn't heard the rest of her little speech. "You simply don't want to. Am I that repulsive to you? I thought you liked me..." "Terry!" exclaimed Elizabeth. "You're not repulsive at all to me! Where did you get this idea?" "You always hold back with me. You never want to go out with me." "Oh Terry, I'm so sorry if I hurt you. That wasn't my intention at all. I'm happy each time you're here with me, I'm so very proud to have you coming here, just to see me, because it shows you care for me and that our friendship is precious to you and it's precious to me too, Terry, please believe me on that, and that's the reason why I may look so cautious. I don't want to ruin it and I don't want your parent to forbid you to see me. They implicitly trust me in our friendship, they know I know the burden on your shoulders. Do you understand? You are the prince and I'm just nothing. I'm trying to protect you, Terry, not to hurt you." "So you like me? Truly?" "Of course I do, Terry." "Then, please, Ellie, just this once, come to the palace tonight? Mother organises a little reception; I would like you to be there. Please? Please show me our friendship means something to you?" "I will be there, Terry, I promise," she said very seriously. "Thank you, Ellie. I will be waiting for you tonight." Elizabeth had a tense smile, but didn't answer. Terrence left on those last words and she went back into her rather dark kitchen. She had a last longing glance toward the window through which she could see the land under the bright sun, sighed, turned back to her small fire and froze when seeing her stepmother in front of her. "You are going nowhere tonight!" said Margaret between clenched teeth. Elizabeth understood immediately that she had heard - rather than overheard - everything. "Please, stepmother, I promised him?" she said simply. "Don't worry, wretched girl. Your prince won't be alone tonight." She dragged Elizabeth to the cellar and closed the door on her. The girl heard the heavy key turning in and locking her up. Sadly she sat on the stairs and bit her lower lip. Terrence would hate her till the end of her life for not coming. Then she heard Margaret calling Aurelia and she knew almost immediately what her stepmother had in mind. Aurelia was rather nice, but she was ambitious and though she wasn't particularly fond of the idea of using Elizabeth - or mistreating her - she wouldn't step back in front of anything. Margaret knew which weapon to use and what a weapon was Aurelia! Especially that she had something of Angela, looking so innocent and vulnerable, and everybody naturally tended to be very protective with her. She would have no difficulty of convincing Terrence of whatever she wanted. So it was a very proud - and beautiful - Aurelia who went out that night and as soon as Terrence heard her name, he knew Elizabeth wouldn't come. She came to him and bowed deeply. "Your Highness," she murmured, looking exactly like a terrified deer ready to flee. "Lady Aurelia," replied gently Terrence. "It's a surprise to see you here tonight." "Oh, believe me, Your Highness, I wouldn't have come if my sister..." exclaimed Aurelia, suddenly biting her lower lip like someone who knew she had said too much. "Yes?" asked gently Terrence, his throat already tightening. "Oh, Your Highness, I'm so sorry to be the one bringing the bad news!" whimpered Aurelia. "I heard them... and she was laughing at you, saying that soon you would be so taken with her that your parents wouldn't have any other choice but to let you marry her. Oh, that's horrible! I really shouldn't tell you that!" "To the contrary, Lady Aurelia," said coldly Terrence. "You were perfectly right. May I know who exactly are they?" "I... I can't. I possibly can't!" she said, wringing her hands. "They are my sisters. I can't denounce them like that, I've already said too much..." "But you can denounce the one who's not of the same blood as you..." insinuated Terrence. Aurelia looked around, seeming terrified, took a step back and shook the head. "No, Your Highness. I cannot denounce her either, no matter her wrongs toward you... I mean..." She remained silent a short instant and then said very lowly: "I have to go. Please forgive me, Your Highness." She bowed deeply and stepped back. Terrence extended his hand toward her. "Would you do me the honour to stay with me this evening, Lady Aurelia?" he asked. "I... I beg your pardon, Your Highness?" "Terrence. Would your mother be upset if you were staying with me tonight?" "No, Your... Terrence. But... I mean... you appreciate Elizabeth and Angela's company, not mine..." "Let me be the only judge, Lady Aurelia?" Aurelia hesitated and then accepted. During the whole evening she didn't say any bad word against Elizabeth; Terrence was studying her very carefully, trying to understand what had happened. It was evident that, if he was to believe Aurelia, Elizabeth was trying to trap him; but there was her speech of the very day, when she had said she wanted to protect him; but there was that day he had met Angela and she had told him Elizabeth was hoping to keep him from her sisters; but there was the beating; but there was Elizabeth asking him why he wouldn't marry Angela... There was a storm raging in his mind and as long as Aurelia's huge blue eyes would be fixed on him, he wouldn't be able to stop it. At home, Margaret was waiting for her daughter. At first she had been worried but now she was radiant, for she had understood that Terrence had asked her to stay. Elizabeth had understood it too and she was keeping her head down, fighting back the tears burning her eyes and threatening to run down her cheeks. She knew she had lost Terrence's friendship. "One more light to fade away in my life," she thought heroically. "First father, then Terry... Angela is next, I guess..." She glanced briefly at her little sister; if Margaret had heard her conversation with Terrence, she probably knew by now that Angela and Elizabeth were working hand in hand. She felt a pang of anguish at the idea of her gentle little sister being turned into a frivolous ambitious lady like Ann or Helen. As she arrived back home Aurelia had the decency not to brag too much about her success - though her mother didn't have the same decency - and Elizabeth's eyes thanked her for that. Aurelia felt a bit guilty, because her success was based on a lie accusing Elizabeth and she knew her stepsister knew it too. After that, Margaret let her stepdaughter free to do whatever she wanted - as long as her work was done - because she knew Terrence wouldn't come anymore. But he came. Once. The day following the reception Elizabeth was working when the familiar knock at the backdoor startled her. She wiped her hands dry and opened the door. "Terry..." she exclaimed softly half-choking. "For you it is 'Your Highness', Lady Elizabeth," he informed her coldly. "I'm sorry to tell you your schemes failed; you won't see me again." "My schemes?" repeated Elizabeth blankly. Then unconsciously she straightened up. "Very well, Your Highness," she replied as coldly. "I shall cherish the moments when I had thought you my friend. Thank you for those instants, Your Highness." She executed a very formal and stiff curtsey; Terrence knew at once she was upset and he remembered how proud she always had been. He marvelled at how her pride was helping her saving the face and it was only after taking his leave that he realised she hadn't even tried to defend herself. Of course Margaret knew at once Terrence had seen Elizabeth and she came to scold - and taunt - her stepdaughter. Her reaction surprised her as much as her pride has surprised Terrence. Once again Elizabeth straightened up, facing her stepmother without fear. "Enough! Don't you understand? You have won. Marry Aurelia, Ann or Helen to the prince, I don't care. You can even marry him yourself if that can make you happy. Now leave me alone, I have work to do." Margaret seized Elizabeth's wrist. "It's not over, Elizabeth," she said. "It won't be over till you're crushed. I want to see you without pride, without that defying look in your eyes. I want to see only fear and submission in you." "Never!" replied Elizabeth passionately. "I would rather die than give you this satisfaction!" "Then you will die, dear child," said calmly Margaret. Days, weeks and months passed. Terrence, knowing it would hurt Elizabeth, was spending more and more time with Margaret's daughters and nieces. His parents spoke of marriage more than once but he always dismissed the subject. Margaret, whose keen ears never let a word get lost, knew almost immediately that the king and queen were thinking of one of her daughters as wife for the prince so, of course, Elizabeth knew it too. Thought she was rarely leaving the kitchens, Elizabeth knew almost everything happening at the court, for Margaret liked to talk to her each time she was coming back from the palace. Then Terrence's parents decided that enough was enough and they organised another reception during which they would more or less force him to choose a bride. Margaret was one of the first informed. "Quickly, precious! Word has spread the prince will choose tonight. Elizabeth dear, come here!" Terrence was there, hearing the names without really listening to them. He knew at once when Margaret and her daughters arrived, for it was a numerous group, and he didn't even listened to the names. But then what he really heard was a young masculine voice exclaiming with undisguised pleasure: "Lizzie!" Without caring for his rank, Lawrence, Terrence's young brother, ran to a slim silhouette clad in ivory. "Your Highness," said a voice that hit Terrence painfully as he was watching her curtseying with grace. "Lizzie, you never called me 'Your Highness' before!" protested Lawrence taking her hand. "But I never saw you during an official reception either, Your Highness," retorted the girl, teasing. Lawrence laughed heartily and Terrence was still frozen. Elizabeth. Here, at the palace. It was impossible. It was a dream - or a nightmare, he wasn't sure yet of which one it was. She was supposed to be mistreated in her own house. Then with a sense of observation he never knew he had, he noticed some details that Elizabeth's inner grace and pride concealed well: the fashion was to long dresses showing perfect shoulders; Elizabeth's ivory dress was covering every inch of skin and Terrence had the impression of seeing the burning red marks of the whip glowing under the thin fabrication. She had always been gracious, but there was certain stiffness in her movements, as if she was cautious. And finally not even her dress could hide the fact that she had lost too much weight. As Lawrence was leading her to the dance floor Terrence noticed the lace gloves she was wearing and he knew she hated gloves. He assumed it was for hiding her hands marked with the hard work. Once again forgetting everything he watched with a certain jealousy Lawrence holding her against him and he envied his young brother as Elizabeth's head was almost resting on his shoulder. Remembering his duty he went to present his respects to Margaret and her daughters; after a polite smile to Aurelia, he asked Angela for the dance. Though quite surprised - for Terrence had more or less ignored her since Aurelia's scheme - Angela accepted. Even if she was very attentive to the dance and smiled politely to Terrence, her eyes were often wandering to Elizabeth's side and each time the defiant look in her eyes was disappearing. "You love Elizabeth, don't you?" asked Terrence feeling almost jealous. "Yes, Your Highness, I do," replied Angela with sincerity. "She is someone wonderful and trustworthy." "But ambitious." "No, she's not. She likes you as a friend, not as a prince. If you are not able to see the difference, Your Highness, then maybe you don't deserve her friendship." Surprised by gentle Angela's outburst, Terrence replied: "So who do I deserve, pray? Women like your sisters?" "If you judge your friends on what people tell you and not what you know about them, then maybe, yes!" "She promised me and she didn't come!" "Maybe she couldn't come! Did you at least ask her why she didn't come? No, of course, but you judge her nonetheless! If she was what you think she is, she would have come!" "Not if she knew her schemes had been revealed to me. It would have been too dangerous for her!" retorted Terrence, his temper flaring at Angela's reproaches. Angela almost stopped dancing, missing a step, but she quickly recovered; in her eyes a hard glow was showing. "Then you really don't deserve her, Your Highness. I will tell her she has been wasting her time on you." "So because she betrayed my trust I don't deserve her?" "She didn't come to you at first, Your Highness! You came for her, you knew she's not as free as you are and yet you accused her for things that are beyond her power to grant you! Now what? You are going to accuse her of trying to trap your brother instead of you because her scheme on you failed? Be careful, Your Highness, if you do that in front of me, I won't forgive you." Despite himself Terrence looked at Lawrence and Elizabeth. Lawrence seemed so happy, he couldn't break his happiness like that; but then he noticed how possessive his embrace was, how close he was holding Elizabeth and he almost gritted his teeth. "Are you selfish to the point of wanting her to be alone if you turn your back to her?" asked Angela's soft voice, except that angry notes were showing in it. "I want to know what exactly happened," said Terrence with a determined tone. "Then what? You are going to ask my mother to tell you the truth? She is a courtier, Your Highness, and her aim is to see one of her daughters - even me, for that purpose - in your arms by the end of this reception. She would lie to you, even under torture. Even if you show the whole court the scars on Elizabeth's back, what will that change?" "The scars," repeated Terrence. "The scars are the proof, aren't they?" Before Angela could answer, he went straight to Lawrence and Elizabeth; the girl was actually beginning to really relax in her handsome partner's arms but her stiffness returned as soon as she saw Terrence heading toward them. Instinctively, not seeing his brother coming behind him, Lawrence tightened his hold on her, as to assure her he wouldn't let her face alone whatever she was fearing. She gave him a surprised look that almost hurt him but then she had a smile so tender and so grateful that it made his heart melt. "Lady Elizabeth, come with me, please," said his brother's voice in his back. If Elizabeth's face showed none of her distress, Lawrence could feel it by the stiffness of her body in his arms and he wondered what had happened between his brother and her to have her react like that. He reluctantly let go of her but then caught her hand in his, showing quietly that he wouldn't let her alone. "Come too, Lawrence, if you really want to," added Terrence with impatience. "Follow me." Silently Angela came by Elizabeth's side whose apprehension was beginning to show in her dark eyes. Terrence led them to a guest room, closed the door behind them and then turned to Elizabeth. "Disrobe," he ordered. Bewildered Elizabeth instinctively crossed her arms on her chest and stepped back. "I beg your pardon?" "Disrobe," repeated Terrence annoyed. "I may be little less than a servant to your eyes, Your Highness, I still have my pride. No, I won't!" "Ellie, don't made it a chore. Do it, that's all." She shivered at the fact he had called her 'Ellie' again. "Terry, you cannot ask her that!" protested Lawrence. "That's very rude indeed!" "I want to see her back," persisted Terrence. Instead of relaxing Elizabeth panicked. She stepped back again, shaking violently the head, hitting her back against the wall without even noticing it. "No!" But then Angela's gentle hand came on her arm. "Do what he says," she said softly. "Angel..." she protested weakly. Her little sister led her behind the decorated screen in a corner and they heard some silky sounds. Then Angela led out a girl as red as peony, clutching at the white cloth tightly draped around her body, leaving her back bare till the waist. Though this outfit had little to do with the current fashion Terrence and Lawrence both held back their breath; she was absolutely stunning, reminding them of the perfect statues of the Greek goddesses. Elizabeth, still blushing furiously, turned her back to them, Angela standing next to her, watching out the two men with a stern eye, and what they saw left them speechless. Lawrence was closing his fists in anger as Terrence came to Elizabeth, lightly following with his fingertips the latest marks left by the whip on her skin. He noticed some other bruises here and there, some almost yellow, ready to disappear, some others still blue and red. Lawrence came by his brother's side and gently brushed his hand against Elizabeth's shoulder marked with a thin white scar. He felt her shiver under his caress. "Lizzie," he asked softly, but urgently, "who did that to you? Who?" But she refused to answer, only shaking her head in denial, her cheeks red with shame and embarrassment. "Are you convinced now, Your Highness?" asked Angela almost aggressively. Terrence didn't answer, still caressing Elizabeth's back with his fingertips, trying to count all the scars and losing himself in the number, feeling her soft warm skin under his hand, wondering why somebody would want to bruise it with a whip, making him want to take her in his arms and beg for her forgiveness, if she could find in her heart the strength to forgive him. She raised up an arm, took a pin from her hair neatly done and the long cascade of her curls fell on her shoulders, hiding her back to the gazes; then she turned back to face the two princes and the first thing they saw was the nails scratch just beneath her throat. "Are you happy now, Your Highness?" she asked with a weary tone. "You've seen my greatest shame, exposed it to the eyes of your young brother whose friendship I was hoping to keep even after I lost yours. Now what?" Terrence stepped ahead, took her in his arms and held her close to him. "I'm sorry, Ellie, I'm so sorry..." he whispered, his face buried in her thick black curls. Without a word Elizabeth pulled away and went back behind the screen to put on her dress. "Terry, you obviously know more than me in this story. Who did that to her? Tell me!" half-yelled Lawrence. "Don't tell him, Terrence, please," said Elizabeth's still weary voice. She came back with her hair still loose, her cheeks only covered by a slight blush. She went straight to Lawrence and looked at him lengthily. "Lawrence," she whispered, "thank you for your trust in me, thank you for your loyal and constant friendship. I don't think I will ever see you again and I'm very sorry for that, Lawrence." Then, as a sister could have done, she took his head in her hands and pressed tightly her lips to his forehead. He tried to hold her back but she had a single movement of denial and his hand fell back by his side. "Terrence," she said gravely. "I forgive you, don't worry. You couldn't know..." "I should!" interrupted the prince with violence. "No, you couldn't know. Farewell, my friend?" "Your friend, Ellie, I swear it." She nodded and slipped out of the guest room. "Why..." began Lawrence. "Why did she say farewell? Why did she say she wouldn't see me again?" "Because she is to be doomed to darkness and loneliness," whispered Angela sadly, leaving the room too. By the following day both Elizabeth and Angela had disappeared from town. Naturally Margaret had to answer some embarrassing questions, but she escaped most of them by saying an old aunt had asked to have two of her nieces near her. Infuriated Lawrence almost jumped at her throat but Terrence's hand suddenly became very heavy on his arm, holding him back. The youngest prince's eyes narrowed and he left the room without a word. Worried about his brother, for he knew only too well how spontaneous Lawrence could be, Terrence followed him shortly after, muttering a vague excuse he didn't even remember once the door closed behind him. He found Lawrence packing, his sword already hanging at his belt. "Where do you think you are going?" "To find her! I thought you would care enough for her to protect her, but you obviously don't, so I'm going to do it in your place!" "You care that much for her?" "Yes I do. How can you ask such a question, Terry? Not that long ago you were so taken with her that you were running from the palace to see her and now you let her be taken away to an unknown place where she will be as mistreated as she is right now." "I trust her enough, Lawrence." "Well I don't! Not after having seen her back!" Terrence didn't answer. He couldn't decently tell his younger brother that every night since that dreadful day he had dreamed of this scarred back but each time the girl was turning toward him, instead of Elizabeth's dark eyes, it was Angela's huge blue eyes he was meeting. "I only have one small excuse," continued Lawrence. "I didn't know! But you knew, you knew and you didn't tell me, you knew and you didn't do anything! You were in contact with her sister, Angel..." "Angela," interrupted Terrence. "Whatever. You were in contact with her and you knew everything. Why didn't you tell me?" "How could I have known you would care so much for Ellie, Lawrence?" "You always have been more her friend than I was, Terry," said Lawrence looking at his brother with sorrowful eyes, "but when I talked with her yesterday, it was as if I had been blind my whole life and that I was suddenly seeing. I opened my eyes and I saw her - I saw only her and that was the most beautiful vision I ever had. And you are asking me to renounce to that? I'm sorry, Terry, but I cannot. That would be like closing the whole world to me after having given me only a glimpse of its wonders." Terrence was looking at his young brother in disbelief, never having him heard speak with such passion in his voice. "Lawrence..." "No, Terry! Go find your soul mate in Elizabeth's family if you want, among those courtiers, I found that Lizzie was mine! And if you were a bit more aware of what you really want, you would choose Angela before Lady Margaret manages to push ambitious little Aurelia in your arms and then both of you in front of the priest!" "Angela?" repeated Terrence. "Dare to tell me that you haven't been thinking of her since she disappeared. Your games with Aurelia were not only aimed at Lizzie, they were aimed at Angela too! You didn't even notice it till now, did you?" Terrence seized his brother by the shoulders and shook him none-too-gently. "What are you saying? Who noticed that but you?" "Your secret is safe with me," said Lawrence with some disdain. "Till very recently I thought you wanted Lizzie and I was ready to surrender her to you, but then I understood that you were wishing for the little angel." "Don't call Angela like that," said Terrence nervously. "Do you prefer me to say 'Angel of the night'?" retorted Lawrence without missing a beat. "Lizzie is calling her Angel." "How do you know that name?" growled Terrence. "Because I was there when you called her like that, but you never noticed me." Terrence felt a bit dizzy as he repeated endlessly: "You were there, you were there..." He stopped suddenly, struck by an idea. "If you were there, why didn't you know Ellie was beaten?" "I didn't hear your whole conversation, Terry. I just came at the end and I heard you call her 'Angel of the night'. On the moment I didn't react, it's true she looks like an angel and I thought you were only using her to reach Lizzie... But now I don't know anymore!" Terrence looked a bit confused. "You thought... think that... I'm in love with Angela?" Lawrence shrugged. "Who cares?" "Lawrence, please, concentrate on what you're saying! You're making me nervous!" "Me?" laughed Lawrence. "You should be nervous all by yourself! Father and mother are really decided to get you married, you know, and they're not going to give up till you have a ring on your finger. So if you don't want them to choose for you, you would better sort out your ideas and thus know what you really want. And, believe me, if I were you, I would do exactly that, because I know which bride they have in mind for you and brr! I wouldn't want her!" "Who is it? Lawrence!" "I'm not telling you, Terry. Try to use your head a bit more than you are doing now. Oh, and be prepared for lots of coming balls. It seems mother found it was a great idea!" Terrence grunted. "I'm not going to show up to any of them!" "And thus make sure to miss Lizzie and Angela if they show up. Great idea. Would you have thought to see Lizzie that night?" "No, never!" replied Terrence sincerely. "It was such... such a shock to see her!" Lawrence looked at his brother and sighed. "You don't deserve her, but... oh well, I guess I'll survive..." He left the room, his sword still hanging at his belt, and soon after, Terrence heard the trot of his horse on the cobblestones. Warned by Lawrence, Terrence didn't react too badly when his mother herself announced to him the coming balls. She thought he was becoming more reasonable, more mature. It was not really the case. Never before had the two brothers been together like they were now and more than once, Lawrence left his brother's room infuriated by his stubbornness. Lawrence's days were the same almost every day: in the morning, he was with his brother, then, just after a quick lunch, he would go outside with his horse - probably looking for Elizabeth - and he would reappear in the evening, just in time to get ready for whatever his parents had planned for that day. This routine was beginning to make him crazy. He had had a hope of seeing Elizabeth appearing at one of the balls, though he knew she hated them, but as time was passing by, his hope was getting dimmer and dimmer. It was the same for Terrence. First, an insane hope: if she had come to the ball once, obviously on Margaret's injunction, what could prevent her to come again? So during the balls, he was wandering ceaselessly, looking at every girl, in case she had disguised herself, bowing and smiling mechanically, sometimes actually speaking to some of them, but his mind was still wandering. Margaret was still there and she couldn't help but notice the absent look of the crown prince. To her bitter disappointment, Terrence didn't seem at all interested anymore in Aurelia and the huge blue eyes had no more effect on him. Persuaded that the responsible for all this was the youngest prince, Margaret sent her niece Violet to try her charms on Lawrence. Violet was renowned for her large violet eyes as moving as Aurelia's when the latter was trying to be like Angela. The poor Lawrence, till now quite sheltered from girls - he wasn't known to be very bold - didn't really know how to react when Violet decided he would be her next prey. He politely bowed to her and tried to continue his way. She stopped him with her hand on his arm, as light as a feather, and looked at him quite flirtatiously. "Your Highness, I'm without any partner. Surely you wouldn't offend me by leaving me alone?" Violet had, like the rest of her family, been quite close to the royal family and if she had never gotten as close of the two princes as Elizabeth had, she knew exactly how to manipulate Lawrence. The young prince looked at her, understanding perfectly what she was doing, but his education prevented him for running away as he wanted so much to do. "Certainly not, Lady Violet!" he exclaimed, bowing very low. In the corner of his eye he saw one of the courtiers - actually a friend of his, who would do everything to help him out - was coming toward him. "Indeed, my lady, offending you would be the last of my thoughts!" he continued. "Will you allow me to introduce you to a young man who had been craving to meet you? I'm sure you already noticed his devotion for you, but overlooked it, probably thinking it wasn't real. Believe me, Lady Violet, this young man could die for a tender glance of yours..." Lawrence was impressing himself and his friend, in earshot, was trying hard to keep a dead-pan face instead of laughing all he could. He played his part perfectly, abject adoration in his gaze, and walked away with Violet at his arm. Margaret's niece looked above his shoulder at Lawrence who was smiling... and walking away, free from her! Margaret had seen it too and, vexed by Violet's failure, sent the young Lisle on Lawrence's tracks. Lisle was very much like Angela, though not brought up by Elizabeth, but she had that same shyness in her. Lawrence, surprising himself, allowed himself to seem enthralled by the young Lisle, dancing a bit more with her each evening she was there, making her laugh, having her laying trustingly her head on his shoulder, but he never breathed a word about Elizabeth, Angela or Terrence. Margaret, who was questioning her niece after each evening, quickly understood Lawrence was slyer than he looked like and though young, was quite a good match for her. She ordered Lisle to stop seeing Lawrence, but the girl was quite taken with the young prince and disobeyed her aunt. Terrence, during this time, had reached a point where he didn't think he could get more bored. For passing the time during the balls he was amusing himself by observing the feet of the dancers. He hid more than one smile when noticing some women wearing shoes far too small for them, but still smiling and dancing lightly, not caring for the pain or the blood. Stupid pride was not something that Terrence valued. He saw some poor shoes under beautiful dresses and understood that the girls wearing those beautiful dresses were not as rich as they tried to make think they were, but to those, he forgave more easily than to the ones with the small shoes. One even had no shoes at all; she surprised Terrence's glance on her feet, blushed hotly and then returned his gaze with defy in her eyes. Without departing himself of his regal attitude, Terrence winked to her, as if telling her he was her accomplice, that her secret was safe with him. She smiled timidly and went on dancing, which she did with a grace that was almost painful. His pastime was making him almost cheerful, though his eyes were always lowered, at ground level. Then, after the girl with no shoes, he saw something more disconcerting: tiny feet, so small that even one of the proud women with smaller shoes couldn't have fitted her toes in those shoes. He looked up and saw the pale face of a very young girl, who was looking at him with no fear in her eyes. "Are my shoes to Your Highness's taste?" she asked quite impertinently. "Shall I take this as an indication that you noticed my hobby?" replied Terrence. "Indeed I did, Your Highness," retorted the girl with like a laugh in her voice. She curtseyed. "I apologise for my impertinence, Your Highness, and since nobody introduced me to you, allow me to introduce myself: I am the Countess Ileana of White-beam." "Dear Countess! I have heard so much about you! So much actually, that I thought you were older." "Please do not confound me with my mother, Your Highness," said Ileana with feigned severity. "Are you sure you are old enough for being here, Lady Ileana?" asked Terrence, intrigued by this little girl. She looked up at him and sent him the most delightful smile. "Certainly not, Your Highness, but I wanted to see the prince who is driving crazy both his parents and his country." "Is it aimed at me, Lady Ileana?" "Well, Your Highness, your brother is at least trying to keep your parents happy though it's only make-believe from him. Who is then the girl of your dreams for you to scorn so many blueblood maidens?" "Are you particularly very observant or is it terribly obvious?" "As it seems I am the only one to have noticed it, Your Highness, it would mean that I am particularly very observant, but it wouldn't be very modest from me to say it myself, would it?" she asked with a sweet smile. Terrence laughed softly. Enchanted by this witty stern little girl he spent a very long time speaking with her during the evening and told her he hoped to see the following evening. The same people were at the palace for the second day of ball. Ileana came straight to Terrence and they spent the whole evening together. Though the little girl always kept a serious face, there was a glimpse of joy dancing deep in her eyes. She designed the shoeless girl to Terrence. "Her name is Eleanor. She lives quite near us. Her mother is a baroness, but they are ruined. The mother spent all their money left to buy herself a dress and shoes, to make people think they still are rich. Eleanor borrowed this dress from one of her friends, who is a dressmaker, but as she hadn't any shoes, well, she came without. Her mother didn't want her to come, so she is very upset to see her here. She noticed of course the fact Eleanor hasn't any shoes, and she's telling it to everybody. I'm afraid the moment will come one of her friends will make a scandal of poor Eleanor." Terrence liked the tale very much; the courage of young Eleanor pleased him - reminding him painfully of Elizabeth. He whispered something into Ileana's ear and the little girl nodded vigorously, obviously enchanted by his idea. They both sneaked among the dancers, up behind Eleanor, took hold of each of her arms and drew her away of the dance floor. First surprised Eleanor didn't fight, then tried to protest, especially when she recognised Ileana. Then Terrence opened a door and she found herself standing on the threshold of a room filled only with women shoes. "Choose the pair you want, Lady Eleanor!" said Terrence with a wink toward Ileana. But Eleanor was proud and she shook the head. "No, Your Highness, I refuse pity and charity!" One moment taken aback, Terrence laughed heartily. "It's not charity, my lady, it's playing a bad trick to your mother who is obviously waiting for your fall. Let's disappoint her, shall we?" A grin spread on Eleanor's lips. "Like this, alright," she said without any manners. She quickly found a pair of shoes absolutely beautiful - Terrence mentally noted she had a very good taste - and all three went down the stairs, back to the dance floor. Even in borrowed shoes, Eleanor didn't lose any of her grace and the two accomplices, Terrence and Ileana, enjoyed a lot seeing her dance. As Lawrence, on his brother's injunction, asked her to dance and led her on the dance floor, one of her mother's friends stopped him. "Your Highness, allow me to interrupt your dance, but this girl is hardly worthy of you." "Indeed, my lady? Pray, explain to me why," answered Lawrence who had no idea of the situation, but wasn't the kind to let his partner being insulted without reacting. "She's a poor girl who tricked everybody by coming in a beautiful dress, but, Your Highness," she added, leaning to conclude in a whisper, "she has no shoes!" Eleanor hid an impertinent smile and tried her best to look ashamed. Ileana and Terrence were holding back their laughers. "My lady, I hope you can prove this accusation without hurting Lady Eleanor's honour, for if you cannot, then your accusation will be considered unfounded and indeed very insulting." "Oh I can, Your Highness!" assured the woman. She quickly drew up a bit Eleanor's dress revealing... two beautiful shoes shining under the lights, fitting perfectly the girl's feet. Eleanor protested, pushing her skirts down, blushing hotly. Lawrence frowned severely. "My lady, as I could see by myself, at Lady Eleanor's modesty cost, she indeed has shoes. I'm afraid I will have to ask you to leave the palace at once and to not come back if it's for accusing innocent people. And, my lady, don't forget to take your friends with you," he concluded. "Lady Eleanor, please forgive me for this painful incident; shall we resume our dance?" Eleanor lowered her eyes and murmured: "With pleasure, Your Highness." "My brother is perfect, as usual," sighed Terrence, a wide grin on his face. "The perfect gentleman," agreed Ileana seated next to him. "Would you believe that three months ago he still hadn't talked to any girl, or almost?" "Well, in this case, Terrence, he's a very fast learner," commented Ileana, who was using the prince's first name after he had asked her to. "No, he's in love," sighed Terrence, seriously this time. "At least, I think so." "That makes the two of you." "You still think that, huh?" Ileana pretended to think a bit before answering. "I'm afraid so. I'm not going to betray you, if that's what you are afraid of." "I'm not afraid of it. Maybe it would even solve the problem if someone betrayed me." "Then ask her," said Ileana, pointing to Margaret. "This woman would betray you at any cost. She's looking at you as if you were a valuable prey - which you are, anyway - and she seems to hate your brother." "Lawrence is not sensitive to her nieces' charms. That's the first time it happens to her, she's not used to it." Ileana smirked. "Too bad. I would advise her to get used to it." Terrence looked at her, surprised, then smiled too. Ileana winked at him and left him to go among the dancers, always passing very near the women, so that her shoulder would brush against their skirts and thus she would allow Terrence to have a glimpse at their feet. Terrence had a slightly guilty smile as he saw her doing this; nobody minded her, but he wasn't feeling very proud of himself. He looked at Lawrence, who was still dancing with Eleanor and the girl was smiling and laughing in the arms of her handsome partner. His brother was answering her with ease and Terrence envied him; his own mind was restless and he couldn't hide it from anybody, especially not from himself. Lawrence seemed much more in control, though his brother perfectly knew he was worried for Elizabeth. This particular ball was planned to last the whole week and Terrence was already bored at the end of the second day. The faces were the same as to all the previous balls and not even Ileana's usual tricks could lighten his darkening mood. The third day and the following ones would be a masked ball. Terrence had refused to wear any disguise and Lawrence had looked horrified before running away as if he had just seen the devil. The queen, enchanted, had decided to take the costume of a shepherdess; the king, as ill at ease as his two sons, had looked toward the sky as to take it as a witness of his patience. The third evening came and both Terrence and Lawrence were dreading it. Not ten minutes after the beginning, the two princes were already surrounded by beauties in foreign exotic costumes or clothed like shepherdesses. Ileana had simply put a mask on her face, which helped a lot with hiding her disgust, she told Terrence in confidence. She told him too that Eleanor couldn't come, her mother having locked her in her house. Terrence expressed his regrets and Lawrence's gaze darkened. A girl disguised like a gypsy, with a black mask hiding half her face, came to take Terrence's hands, a gently mocking smile on her lips, drawing him to the dance floor. She was dancing in front of him, teasing him, still smiling, as if she was daring him to catch her while she was twirling around. Something in her reminded him of Elizabeth, though Elizabeth had really nothing in common with this girl! But there was something in the shadow cast by her eyelashes... maybe because it was making her eyes darker than they really were, like Elizabeth's. Even the smile felt familiar. But as for the rest... her dance was so fully gypsy that he wondered briefly if the girl wasn't really a gypsy. No girl from the nobility could have learnt to dance like this. She stopped in front of him after a twirl and looked at him with a pout on her lips. "Dance with me, Your Highness, don't watch me dance." Then she smiled again, as if she was enjoying herself very much playing this role of the temptress in red, long black curls falling on her shoulders anyhow. "Your Highness, don't force me to seduce you for real. It's not my intention, though that's what everybody's expecting from me, because of the costume. So please, make believe it, just for tonight?" It couldn't be! And yet maybe... This was sounding so much like an echo of what Elizabeth was used to say when they were playing in their childhood! "Alright, just for tonight, then," he agreed the same way he had agreed in their childhood. She turned a bit too quickly toward him and his mind was set: if she wasn't Elizabeth, she knew their habits by then. But then Elizabeth had never been very talkative, especially about him, so why would she have confided those things? He caught her by the waist, accompanying her movements, and his arm slid easily around her, as if it already knew how to do with her. "You didn't tell me your name, my lady, so you have an advantage on me," he remarked, trying to see past the mask. She smiled. "Identities are only to be revealed at midnight, Your Highness, and it's only the beginning of the ball..." "Then my lady, you'll have to stay with me till midnight, when every mask will have to be removed!" She replied with a light silvery laugh that thrilled him, for it sounded so much like Elizabeth's! "Then catch me before midnight, Your Highness, because I'm not going to make the task easy on you!" Terrence believed her: there was a mischievous glow in her eyes that clearly showed she wouldn't let him have his way if she could prevent it. So he kept an eye on her during the whole evening, though she spent it mostly with him, dancing again and again. During this time Lawrence was entertained by a young blonde beauty, clothed in a peacock costume, whose blue eyes were shining strangely behind the mask. Something like half an hour before midnight, Ileana whispered some words in Terrence's ear and, when he looked up again, the gypsy had disappeared. Strangely, Lawrence's partner had disappeared too. "There's something strange about this girl, Terrence," said Ileana. "I observed her while you were dancing with her. Her dance was indeed very seductive, but there was a certain restraint in it, as if she was forcing herself to behave like this. On the other hand, though you were obviously disconcerted by the dance, you were following her easily, as if you were used to dance with her. As for your partner," she added thoughtfully, turning to Lawrence, "I think she was there only to prevent you to dance with the gypsy, the way Terrence had you dancing with Eleanor." "It would mean she was there the first evening," remarked Terrence. "Do you really think so?" "Maybe not. Eleanor could have told her, if they knew each other. Eleanor has lots of friends, Terrence." "Do you think Eleanor could know Ellie?" "Ellie?" interrupted Lawrence. "Why are you talking about Lizzie?" Ileana had a hard time between all the different names they were using to speak of the same person: Elizabeth, Ellie, Lizzie, and Lisle was never calling her otherwise than Beth. "I think the gypsy was Ellie," said Terrence. "Eleanor may know her. For all you told me about Elizabeth, she is very simple, so she would probably have not overlooked the poor fortune of Eleanor. I can go ask her tomorrow. I can sneak in every house without any problem, even a locked one." "Please ask her," Terrence urged her. "But what I can't understand is that, if the gypsy was really Ellie, why did she play that game with me? Why did she hide from me?" "Remember, Terry, last time, you believed her only after seeing the scars on her back," said wryly Lawrence. "The gypsy had a costume covering the back and the shoulders," remarked Ileana. "But then, if the gypsy was Lizzie, the peacock, her accomplice, could only be... Angel?" risked Lawrence. "Angela," rectified Terrence. Lawrence shrugged, not really caring. "How did she look like?" asked Terrence. "I don't know, I didn't really pay attention! Brown hair, no, blonde. Blue eyes. That's all I remember." "Angela is not blonde," said sadly Terrence, shaking the head. "So I guess it wasn't Ellie after all." "Men!" sighed Ileana, leaving them. Terrence and Lawrence were impatiently waiting for the next day of the ball, to their mother's surprise. She really couldn't figure out the behaviour of her two sons. But on the evening there were lots of gypsies and peacocks, as if the girls, having noticed where the interest of two princes had gone, were trying to bring it to them. The two brothers looked at each other and both sighed. Ileana shrugged, dissimulating her smile, and suggested to gather all the gypsies and ask them for a common dance. If the gypsy of the previous evening was here, Terrence would recognise her dance. Terrence was quite doubtful about it, but he didn't express his doubts. The girls accepted enthusiastically, but it seemed they had little to do the previous evening but observing the gypsy girl, for they were all dancing like her. Terrence shook the head and a silvery laugh rang softly behind him. He turned on his heels, recognising the laugh of the gypsy, but a girl dressed in a peacock costume was looking at him, dark eyes behind the mask, but opulent blonde hair on her shoulders, yet Lawrence denied the fact she was his partner of the day before. Not knowing what pushed him toward her Terrence stepped forward and took her hand to lead her on the dance floor. She slightly cocked her head on the side, as if surprised he had actually made the first move, but didn't resist. On the side, Margaret bit her lips of anger. "Tomorrow," she whispered to Aurelia, "you will be dressed in peacock. And Isabel will be a gypsy." Aurelia repressed a laugh at the idea of Isabel dancing like a gypsy, but she didn't breathe a word and simply nodded. To Terrence's surprise he found that, once again, his arms felt secure and strong around the unknown girl, as if he already knew her. The dark eyes behind the mask were inscrutable but once again, he didn't know if the eyes looked dark because of the shadows cast by the mask or if they really were dark. "So, Your Highness, are you going to try to keep me till midnight to learn my name?" she asked teasingly. "So you really are the girl from yesterday evening?" "Says who?" she retorted. "Says me." "I don't have dark hair, Your Highness," she pointed out. "Do I know you then?" "You are the one to know it better, Your Highness." "You are eluding my questions, my lady." "A little mystery is always more interesting," said the girl, slightly shrugging. "Indeed," agreed Terrence. Then an idea struck him: a way to identify Elizabeth without any mistake was to find one of the whip marks on her back. His memory gave him back the hateful image of her scarred back and he pressed his palm on a precise spot in her back. If his memory wasn't betraying him, this was one of the most recent scars. Even if a long time had passed since he had last seen her, this spot should still be sensitive. She didn't jerk away as he was expecting it, but a certain stiffness invaded her body. "Your Highness?" she asked, as she was being pressed closer to him. "Sorry, my lady," he apologised immediately, releasing slightly his embrace. "A bad habit I have." Her smile was obviously showing she wasn't believing him, but she was too polite to say so. His move had made her defiant and he still didn't know if she was Elizabeth or not, since her reaction was perfectly normal. He looked over his shoulder at Lawrence, who had been taken in charge by a gypsy, dark hair and blue eyes, and Terrence could have sworn it, she was wearing exactly the same clothes as his 'own' gypsy of the previous evening. Same costume, different girl... He looked back at his partner and was stunned by her eyes. Dark beckoning eyes, which were, now he was sure of it, the same as the previous ball day. "My lady, you must stay with me the whole ball!" he said suddenly. "Please?" His eyes were pleading and the girl looked down for a moment then slowly shook her head. "I can't possibly do that, Your Highness," she murmured, eyes still cast down. "It wouldn't be proper at all! Just think what people would say!" Terrence remained silent a moment and then sighed: "It's interesting how much other people care for my well-being." "You are our prince, Your Highness," said the girl, curtseying. She stepped back and disappeared in the crowd. Terrence looked immediately for her but she seemed to have vanished. Exasperated he came back to Lawrence, whose partner had vanished too. Looking haggard Lawrence whispered: "It was the same girl as yesterday. She may not have the same hair colour, but it was her, I would swear it!" Terrence nodded, quite sure of this himself. "Anyway," he sighed, "we lost them again." "There is still tomorrow night," said Ileana consolingly. "If they come tomorrow night," sighed Lawrence in turn. "Men!" exclaimed Ileana, exasperated. "You already said that yesterday!" Terrence called after her. "And I will probably say it tomorrow also!" she retorted, walking out, not even turning back. Lawrence looked at his brother, grinned and said, mimicking Ileana: "Women!" To his great pleasure, Terrence laughed and smiled back to his brother. The last day of the masked ball, Ileana was at the palace earlier than usual, more than slightly puzzled. "Eleanor was nowhere to be found," she explained to Terrence in answer to his question. "I led a little investigation. Not only is Eleanor missing, but her mother's carriage too. It seems she waited for her mother to come home yesterday evening before sneaking out, preparing the carriage and taking off. And, something even stranger, some horses kept disappearing and reappearing this last week." "Strange, indeed, but it doesn't help us. If Eleanor wasn't there, she couldn't answer your questions and so we are still at the same point..." said Terrence disappointed. Ileana sighed, rolling her eyes. Quite far from the palace, three girls were preparing themselves for the masked ball. One of them was already clad as a lad, boots on her feet, whip in hand, and she was leaning against the wall, a smile on her lips. The youngest of the three said: "So, which costume tonight?" "Tonight, you will be the sweetest of mortal and divine kingdoms reunited!" whispered the last girl. "And what will you be?" She smiled without answering. "The carriage is ready," said the girl clothed as a lad. "Thank you so much for your help!" said the last girl gratefully. "My pleasure, really!" grinned the other. "I love to enrage mother. And she is probably furious right now!" she concluded, laughing. The third girl helped the youngest to get dressed before disappearing in another room to put on her own costume. She came out, her mask in the hand, and the two others looked at her in awe. "You will stole every bachelor's heart tonight!" said the girl in man's clothes with a convinced tone. "No, she will," answered the third girl, showing the youngest. "Let's go, it will take us time to get there!" They smiled knowingly to each other and rushed playfully to the carriage. The girl in man's clothes took place on the driver's seat and on her command, the horses took the way to the palace. After a long time, as they were arriving in view of the castle, each girl adjusted her mask on her face, even the driver; she leaned toward her passengers. "I'll stay near the door, so you can catch me if you have to go out fast." The oldest of the two other girls nodded and smiled to the other one. "Let's go, dearie, we are awaited..." They entered, while the third girl was driving the carriage a bit away, avoided the chamberlain with a dexterity that proved it wasn't the first time they were doing so, and at last set foot on the dance floor. At the other side of the ballroom they saw the princes raise the head to look at them and immediately they were gaping at them... Though the chamberlain hadn't announced anybody Terrence raised the head and looked up to the main gate. He hit Lawrence in the ribs with his elbow. "Look up!" he hissed. Lawrence obeyed and his mouth went agape. "Oh my God," he whispered. They were looking at two apparitions. Though surrounded by gypsies and peacocks, despite their interest of the previous nights, the two newcomers were indeed stealing every gaze. One of them was an angel, in white and black, black mask with white feathers hiding her face, though almost everybody had abandoned the mask by now. "Dark angel," murmured Lawrence. "Not dark angel," replied Terrence, his throat suddenly very tight. "Angel of the night..." Lawrence almost choked while Ileana was admiring the two girls without any envy. The gaze of the two princes turned to the other girl, clad all in white, her dress skilfully wrapped around her, falling to her ankles in neat pleats, a simple lace around her waist, her face hidden by a mask entirely white, as if made of porcelain. With the heavy black curls spread on her shoulders she was simply breathtaking, no matter that nobody could see her face. "Greek goddess," breathed Lawrence, "like the other day..." "But even more beautiful," echoed Terrence, stepping forward without really noticing it. He went through the crowd without noticing the curtseys and the engaging smiles. His eyes were fixed on the Greek goddess; she slightly turned the head toward the angel and motioned her away, toward Lawrence, as Terrence remarked mechanically. He was more interested by the delicate attach of her neck. Once again, neither the Greek goddess nor the angel had a costume showing their shoulders. He held out his hand to the Greek goddess, never letting his eyes wander away from her. "Goddess of beauty, would you honour me with this dance?" he asked in a breath. Even without seeing her face he knew his compliment had made her blush. "Your Highness, I am but your humble servant," she replied, curtseying deeply. His heart jumped in his chest. He would have recognised this curtsey anywhere! It was Elizabeth, nobody could imitate nor even come near her graceful moves. Emboldened by this discovery he held her a bit closer than what proper etiquette would have suggested. She looked up at him, defiance invading her dark eyes. "Your Highness?" she asked, her whole body suddenly stiff, as if she was trying to step back. "Ellie," he said desperately, "why are you playing that heartless game with me? You said we parted friends!" Terrified he saw panic coming down in the girl's eyes. 'Terror' didn't seem too big a word for expressing what he felt: if Elizabeth felt only panic when he was driven to despair because of her, what could he feel but terror? "Your Highness!" she protested, struggling to get free. Regretfully he let go of her. She stood a moment in front of him, her dark eyes shining strangely behind the porcelain-like mask, and he wondered briefly if it wasn't due to tears. He reached for her, whispering: "You are so beautiful, Ellie... Please stay with me, please..." Her hand flung to her throat, as if she wanted to choke back a cry, then she turned on her heels and ran away, catching the hand of the angel on her way, all but snatching her from Lawrence's arms. While climbing the stairs, she stumbled with uncharacteristic clumsiness, losing a shoe on her process, but she didn't stop to retrieve it. A third girl, standing near the gate, dressed as a man, joined them in their wild run and when Terrence at last reacted and followed them, it was already too late: a carriage passed in front of him, driven madly, the driver pushing her horses all she could. Slowly Terrence came back; Lawrence had picked up the shoe and was holding it in his hand, looking at it as if it was a jewel from the crown. It was a very simple sandal, entirely white, with a small heel and very few straps, obviously created to suit the foot. Ileana joined the two brothers and looked around quickly. "Stop watching this shoe!" she hissed. "Your parents are coming your way and I think I already know what your father is going to say, Terrence." She was fortunately in front of the shoe, so the king never actually saw it when he exclaimed: "Well, my son, you seem so taken with this shoe - or maybe should I say its bearer? - that I suggest you marry whomever this shoe fits..." Ileana felt a pang of pity for Terrence whose face paled so much she almost thought he would faint. "Quick," she whispered, "let the shoe fall near me!" Lawrence was as thunderstruck as his brother and it was no wonder the shoe seemed to fall from his fingers, rather than him dropping it. The shoe fell on Ileana's feet, who promptly stepped forward, got rid of one of her own shoes and slid her small foot in the white sandal. Terrence bent down and retrieved Ileana's tiny shoe. He looked at the little girl without understanding. "No grown woman can fit my shoes," she shrugged. "And only grown women are supposed to come to the ball." Slowly understanding came to Terrence, who smiled to Ileana. "Thank you, little saviour," he murmured, releasing the small shoe to his father. The king looked quizzically at the tiny shoe. "This small?" he whimpered to his son. Terrence shrugged. "You said it yourself, father: I will marry whomever this shoe fits. I can't marry anybody, can I?" "Oh well, at least, you will get married," sighed his father. "Yes, father," said gloomily Terrence. "Cheer up, Terrence, my darling," said his mother, "the girl should be interesting if you were looking at her shoe with such interest." She sighed and seemed quite sad. "Of course, I would have thought you were interested in young Elizabeth, which I would have perfectly understood..." "You would?" asked Terrence eagerly. The queen looked at him quite strangely then patted his shoulder. "Yes, I would, son," she said softly. "So if it's her you want, you better bring her back here before your father finds whomever the shoe belongs to. Bring her here with an engagement ring on her finger and I guarantee you I'll force your father to agree if he ever dares to refuse her." Terrence looked down, feeling a bit guilty for his lack of trust in his mother's understanding. "The problem, mother, is that she doesn't want to..." he whispered before leaving briskly, immediately followed by Lawrence. Ileana followed them too, a bit more discreetly, for she didn't want people to remember that Terrence had a little girl for a friend... That would explain too many things she didn't want to be explained right now... And thus the king sent for a quest, his emissaries going everywhere, so that every eligible maiden would try the tiny shoe. Each and every one tried her best to make her foot the smallest possible, but none could ever fit it. Terrence was relaxing progressively, while Ileana was teasing him on his lack of trust in her. She waved her tiny foot in front of him. "Look, Terrence, who do you think can have a foot as small as a child?" "Angela could," he retorted with a sigh. "But she is not likely to be found; I trust her enough for that. She was the angel of the night of the last evening, so she knows!" "I know that too. But why don't you look for Elizabeth while your father looks for someone to fit my shoe?" "I would... if I thought I had a chance. But, Ileana, you saw her running away... She was running away from me! From me! What can I do now?" he asked, seating dejectedly, his head in his hands. Ileana came to him and put her little hands on his shoulders. "You have to make up your mind which one you really love: Elizabeth or Angela," she said severely. "And what chance do I have?" he moaned. "Well, maybe she ran away from her own feelings," reasoned Ileana. "You think so?" he asked, looking up at her hopefully. "Men!" she sighed. This very same day the king's emissaries came back to the palace, with the tiny shoe, and sadly shook the head as soon as they were in the king's presence. "We are sorry, Your Majesty, but we didn't find any girl to fit the shoe." "Look harder!" yelled the king. "We have looked over and over, Your Majesty, and the shoe is simply too small!" Infuriated, the king went to his son, shoe in hand. "I don't know how you managed to trick me like this, Terrence, but I don't like it!" he thundered. "So you better find yourself a bride before the end of next moon or I will pick her up myself and I won't care if you like my choice or not!" Terrence sighed. "I already know your choice, father, and I can already tell you I definitely don't like it." "Your mother tells me to be patient with you, well, I think I have been patient enough! Find your bride before the end of next moon or else!" Terrence looked up at his father with sad eyes. "You can already go to your chosen one and tell her she has won," he said gloomily. Surprised by his son's fatalism, the king felt his anger fade as snow in the sun. "Listen, son..." he began. "That's alright, father. I know I've tried your patience. You can tell Aurelia she has won, because no matter what, Ellie doesn't love me anyway..." "You silly defeatist!" shouted Ileana. Enraged she walked out, snatching her shoe from the king's hand, and slammed the door behind her. "She took the shoe! The proof!" "It doesn't matter. It wasn't the right shoe anyway," replied Terrence absent-mindedly, producing the white sandal he had kept preciously. The king wondered a brief instant if he was going to burst out in anger or remain calm in front of both the impudence of his son and his deep sorrow. "There, there, son, everything's not lost," he said consolingly, taking the shoe from him without encountering any resistance. He walked out the door, leaving his son, and hurried back to the room where all his emissaries were. "Your quest is not done yet!" he announced, receiving a great disappointed sigh for answer. "You have to find me the match for this shoe. By match I don't mean a foot fitting it. I mean, find me the other shoe... and its owner. Now go!" "No, wait," said Terrence's voice behind them. "Try to find the match to this quite simple sandal if you want, but wherever you go, show this and say: 'Remember your promise'." He put a parcel in the nearest emissary's hands and repeated: "Don't forget to show this and say the sentence." "We will," promised the emissaries and they left immediately. "What was that, Terrence?" asked the king, intrigued. "My last chance." And the king noticed with surprise there was a very dim glow of hope in Terrence's misty green eyes. Once again the emissaries knocked at every door, feeling tired of seeing the same faces again and the same insane hope. They knocked at Eleanor's door and the quickness with which the door was opened told the emissaries their visit had been expected. "Please enter, gentlemen," purred Eleanor's mother. "I heard you were on a new quest for a shoe..." "My lady, you are right. May we see your daughter?" said briskly the first emissary. Shocked Eleanor's mother protested: "Certainly, sir, you do not wish to offend me! I was at the ball!" "My lady, we are looking for a bride for our prince, not for everybody having been at the ball. So will you call your daughter?" The emissary was tired and didn't care too much for politeness. As by magic, Eleanor entered. "Do not mind my mother, gentlemen," she said, smiling sweetly to her mother. "Please, in what can I help you?" The second emissary produced the shoe and if Eleanor recognised it, she didn't let it show. She shook the head. "I am sorry, gentlemen, this is not my shoe. Especially that everybody knows I don't have shoes," she added, bringing a smile on the emissaries' lips and a frown on her mother's brow. The third emissary, with great care, showed her then what had been in the parcel the prince had given them. Eleanor's mother's eyes shone with envy; Eleanor just raised her eyebrows. "What about this, gentlemen?" "Just those three words, my lady: 'Remember your promise'." "To whom?" called Eleanor as the emissaries were leaving. "To the prince Terrence, my lady." As soon as the door was closed, Eleanor's mother almost pounced on her daughter. "What promise did you make to the prince?" "None, mother," sighed Eleanor. "It's not for me they were saying this." "Do not behave again like you just did, Eleanor. It was extremely shameful for me to have such a daughter." "And it is extremely shameful for me to have such a mother," retorted Eleanor quietly, leaving the room... and the house as her mother discovered one hour later. Three months later the king gave up on the quest. He had forgotten about the ultimatum he had given to his son, but on the result of the quest - nothing - Terrence sadly agreed to everything. Ileana went into a berserk rage and yelled at him, saying what Lawrence had said, a long time ago: "You don't deserve her!" Terrence had only nodded gloomily and gone on with the preparations for his marriage. The whole kingdom was talking about it: at last, at last, the crown prince was going to marry! They were going to have a princess! The identity of the princess was not yet revealed, but it wouldn't take long, some reasoned. After the results of the last ball - where Terrence hadn't even looked once at Aurelia and Isabel - Margaret had lost all hopes, so she was very surprised when, on a knock at her door, she found herself face to face with an emissary from the palace, asking for Aurelia: she had been chosen to be Terrence's bride. Margaret was overjoyed and Aurelia, not for the first time, felt guilty for all her schemes at Elizabeth's detriment. The household went crazy, trying to catch up with the palace's preparations before the day of the marriage. It was a lovely spring day, with a sun shining warmly and a gentle wind singing in the leaves. Terrence was waiting for his bride in front of the altar and he didn't look at all like a young husband-to-be. Lawrence was by his side, looking as gloomy as his brother. Ileana, as one of the main guests, was seated on the front row and the frown on her brow wasn't very joyful either. At last Aurelia entered, followed by her mother, and the girl was stunning, in a long white dress, all in satin and lace. Terrence was already holding out his hand for her but at the moment Aurelia put her little hand on the prince's wrist, a feminine voice rang out: "I object!" The priest protested, confused: "But we are not to that part yet!" "I object anyway!" said the newcomer's voice. She came confidently toward the altar, followed by two other girls. All three wore a vast cape with a hood hiding their face. "Show your face, you mask, trying to interrupt my daughter's marriage!" exclaimed Margaret. The first girl obeyed, pushing back her hood, showing to the whole assembly a face looking strangely like... "Ellie!" choked Terrence. She smiled at him. "Impudent hussy!" hissed Margaret. "How dare you?" Elizabeth raised her hand gloved with white satin. "Hush, stepmother. This moment is mine, no matter what you think." "What allows you to think you can interrupt this marriage?" "Because I was remembered a promise I gave a long time ago. So I came, as I promised." Terrence, forgetting Aurelia, stepped toward her and took her hands in his. "Ellie, do you mean what I think... what I hope you're meaning? Please, tell me you are..." Elizabeth just smiled and extended slightly her right foot. On it was shining the most beautiful shoe one had seen; it seemed to be made of glass or crystal, set with jewels and it was fitting her foot perfectly. Terrence looked at it, then up at Elizabeth; he smiled hesitantly, motioned one of his father's emissaries who brought on a cushion the twin shoe. Terrence took it and knelt in front of Elizabeth; she chastely extended her left foot and Terrence put the shoe on it after having taken off the white sandal she was wearing. "You really want to?" he asked her as he stood up in front of her. She undid the lace holding her cape closed and let it fall on the ground, revealing a beautiful white dress, very simple compared to Aurelia's, but of a very good taste, which could easily pass for a wedding gown. She then motioned her two friends to do the same and they obeyed; Terrence felt no surprise when seeing Angela's young and smiling face and Eleanor's amused one. "I thought you wouldn't come," he whispered. He couldn't help but draw her to him, holding her close. She rested trustingly her head on his shoulder. "I'm sorry, it took me a long time to figure things out. Angela and Eleanor were mad at me." "Ileana and Lawrence were too," smiled Terrence. Then his smile faded. "You... you accept to marry me?" he asked anxiously. Without losing her smile Elizabeth slowly nodded and Terrence, overjoyed, slightly bent down and kissed her. He blinked when feeling a little hand pulling his arm down. "Terrence," said Ileana's stern voice, "we are not to that part yet." Taken aback Terrence looked at his little friend without understanding but then answered her large smile with one of his own. "Elizabeth!" shrieked Margaret, seeing the prince being stolen in front of her. Elizabeth half-turned toward her stepmother. "Sorry, stepmother. Scheme for scheme, Aurelia? No hard feelings, I hope!" And thus Terrence married Elizabeth. As the young couple was leaving the church, the crowd following them, the king stayed behind, bending near the white sandal left behind. He put next to it the other shoe that his emissaries had kept and looked at the pair of shoes. "Well, we found the matching one," he said with satisfaction. He left the church in turn, leaving the two sandals in the middle of the main nave. At the celebrating ball Elizabeth asked Lawrence to have Angela as a partner. "Give her a chance," she said, smiling. "Or to Eleanor." "No, thank you," retorted Eleanor without missing a beat. "It's time I use my wits for my own schemes. After all a shoeless girl in a ball can have an interesting story too, can't she?" "Certainly more interesting than mine, since I only lost one of my shoes, instead of coming without!" said Elizabeth laughing gently. Terrence laughed too, thrilled to hear Elizabeth laugh and smile again, and he promised himself that he would never let her be sad again.

All texts © Azrael 2001 - 2002.
Parure Deva Lake, by Moyra/Mystic PC. Copyright © 2000. All rights reserved.