Dancing On Your Own

Excellence Award in the 'Top Secret 2016' competition

The breeze is cold and the moon is bright, a dismal feeling has already settled in my gut as I stare out at the sea of people, most of whom are caught up in their dancing and chatter but others are waiting for the event to be addressed.

The King’s Ball.

A letter was recently sent to all of the wealthy in the province and all who serve them, but I am sure that no one is aware of my wealth and status; they believe I’m a peasant serving another family of power. It’s these thoughts that push me into moving further away from the cluster of people until my back hits the wall. My eyes drift around the ballroom and latch onto the middle-aged man and his wife standing resplendently gowned in traditional costume on a gorgeous hardwood stage.

The music slows to a stop and everyone turns towards the king, “It is my pleasure to invite you all here tonight,” he begins - but my attention has already been stolen by someone else.

From within the shadow created by curtains are two electric blue orbs. My heart lurches as green and blue clash in a dance of their own while we stare at each other.

“My son, the prince, is here after being overseas for two years now.” The crowd applauds the announcement of their future king’s presence.

I feel the tension from his stare, and suddenly I’m afraid. I’m afraid of the butterflies trying to escape my stomach, I’m afraid of getting hurt and I’m afraid of what this feeling could mean.

The king waits for the crowd to be silent, “Prince Zenorah.” All around people whisper of the young man they have rarely seen.

His eyes don’t leave mine; mine don’t leave his, even as he escapes the shadows and strides from the steps positioned centre stage to my direction.

His entire presence is powerful, a confident aura flowing from even his stance when he stops only a foot away. He offers his hand, and with no other option in mind I untangle my fingers from each other and place my palm on his. The man gazes at me, his stare leaving a trail of fire and ice across my shoulders, leading to my lips, nose and everything about my face. Unforeseen jolts of emotions twist my heart as he brings my hand to his lips before slowly pulling away with a tender smile on his face.

"What's your name?" he asks his voice husky with a touch of liquid gold.

And suddenly I’m not afraid, and his eyes light up with numerous emotions and I’m grinning as we twirl, laughter and happiness spinning behind us.

But then the memory is over, and I’m kneeling on the ground with tears in my eyes; a gravestone in front of me.

In loving memory
King Zenorah, beloved husband.

FOLLOW US


25

Write4Fun.net was established in 1997, and since then we have successfully completed numerous short story and poetry competitions and publications.
We receive an overwhelming positive feedback each year from the teachers, parents and students who have involvement in these competitions and publications, and we will continue to strive to attain this level of excellence with each competition we hold.

KEEP IN TOUCH

Stay informed about the latest competitions, competition winners and latest news!