Maren slipped her hand in Cora's and the two of them were swallowed by the crowd. Selma watched as they danced. She always thought the princesses seemed closer than they let on, even when Cora teased her in school. But lately it seemed like they were always side-by-side.
Well, I suppose it'll help to be friends when they're married, she thought. Selma always thought the princess's fate — to both be married to a prince candidate — was rather cruel. Selma herself could hardly imagine centering her life around a lover, let alone living her daily life in combat with another person for their attention. At least whoever they marry, they'll be on the same team.
"That looks fun," Ariel grinned. "Do you want to dance with me?"
"Oh, I'm not much of a dancer," Selma replied, bashfully wrapping her arms around each other. "I'd probably just scuff your shoes."
"We could go do something else if you'd like," he said, looking around. "There's plenty of stalls."
She sighed, watching them twist and turn to the melody. The crowd seemed to move melodically like waves, the two of them flowing gracefully in its tides. It was beautiful and almost made her want to take Ariel up on his offer and experience it for herself. Her nails dug into the fabric covering her arms, her injured hand a painful reminder of the past few weeks.
No, she thought, gazing into the crowd — the music suddenly more wall than melody. That's not something for me to do.
Cora caught Maren, dipping her back, their faces close, eyes glued to the other. The scene was, dare she say, romantic? The lights sparkling around them, the music dancing between them — Selma couldn't help but notice a vibe.
Oh? she thought, raising an eyebrow as she tilted her head.
"I'll be right back," Ariel said as something caught his attention, but Selma hardly heard him. "I think I see-"
Immediately, the cogs in her mind started turning as she watched them, oblivious to Ariel's absence. She thought back to all the times she watched them in school. She was younger than them and so she knew her perspective would be skewed, but she always thought it interesting — for two people who seemed to squabble as often as they did, their attention always seemed to be on the other. The way Maren's eyes naturally slid toward Cora during assemblies. The way Cora would make it a point to brush her shoulder, albeit brutishly, between classes. Even when her own class wasn't in that hall, she'd often find some excuse to make contact with her. Even as teenagers, Selma always thought it odd.
Her lips parted.
I boiled them down to frenemies, but perhaps —
"May I have this dance?" A voice asked.
Selma jumped, startled from the thoughts that bounced around the walls of her mind. When her attention came back to the world around her, she realized she was staring back blankly into a pair of eyes as grey as a sea-born mist. His face was carved in handsome, rugged angles, but the curve of his jaw told her he couldn't have been older than sixteen.
"Huh?" Selma blurted, blinking.
The boy grinned, a bashful gleam of red bursting from his cheeks. His other arm reached behind him to touch his neck, keeping his hand held out. He averted his gaze and asked again. "M-may I have this dance?"
Then, his eyes slid back to hers, full of youth and sincerity.
Selma stared back, blinking — hesitating. Even with the best dancing teachers, she had never been very good at it. But as she gazed into this stranger's eyes, the music suddenly seemed to flow louder into her ears. A feeling began to grow deep inside her, similar to when she found the halls for the first time. And before she knew what she was doing, she could feel his callused palms brushing hers as she slid her hand into his.
And suddenly, the wall broke and the music danced around her too. The boy's grin widened into a goofy grin and Selma knew he was surely younger than her. But she soon learned this boy could dance. He tugged her forward, twisting her into his arms. For a moment, his warmth overwhelmed her and she became shy, but it didn't last long. After a few sways, he lifted her arm above her head, gave her a twirl and before she knew it, she was in the arms of another. This man was older, and bearded. Selma thought she'd seen Maren in his arms just moments before. She met his eyes, shooting him an awkward grin. He smirked kindly, and after a few beats of dancing, she was twisted across the bricked square, back into the boy's atmosphere. He unraveled her from his arms, letting her dance around him. She caught sight of his expression between twirls, and she realized this boy was truly having fun. This wasn't a plot to romance her, and he wanted nothing from her but to be his partner in dance for the moment.
And she had to admit, it was refreshing.
Almost as soon as she realized that feeling, Selma was thrust back into the crowd and into the arms of another stranger. These arms were thinner, and much warmer than the others. Selma turned her head back, only to find herself in the arms of the ruby princess. Selma's eyes widened.
Cora!?
Embarrassment flushed her body so harshly that she even felt the heat in her knees. Selma had hardly ever had a moment speaking one-on-one with this princess. There was no reason for it, princess Maren was simply easier for her to talk to. Princess Cora, while surprisingly quiet and composed, had a tendency to be a bit snappy. And Selma couldn't help but feel rather…intimidated. Not to mention what she'd just perceived between the princesses. Selma had no issue with it, if that even was what she witnessed. So being in her arms now, shocked her. Her lungs seized in her throat, and her skin went cold.
But Cora just gazed down at her, a small smirk playing around her mouth.
Then, she let something out, clear and sharp as the music circulating around them —
Pfft.
A small puff of amused air that turned into a full-blown laughter that caused her head to tilt all the way back. Her laugh roared into the air, louder than she'd ever heard Cora be. Selma always thought her words, her mannerisms and even her laughter were controlled. Unless she was around Maren, it was like Cora intentionally closed herself off to the world. But for a moment, Selma thought she saw the fire of a true ruby princess for the first time.
"Your face!" Cora cried out between gasping laughs, "Y-you look like you saw a ghost!"
And her words turned into a hearty, cackling, infectious laugh. So infectious that even Selma herself couldn't help but laugh. Tears of laughter pooled in the corners of her eyes, hanging off the princess as she let out the first hearty laugh she'd had in weeks.
Why did she react like that? Why was she so skittish? What made her jump? It was only Cora.
But then, a girl bumped into her as the dance progressed, and Cora awkwardly twisted Selma back into the arms of that boy.
"Welcome back," he said, his eyes drifting to her mouth. "You look like you had fun."
"I'm back," she muttered, realizing she was still grinning. They swayed for a moment longer as the song came to an end. But Selma just couldn't put her finger on it — why this boy picked her of all people. In high society, Selma was hardly ever spoken to by others, let alone someone who wanted to dance with her. She was known to be…eccentric. She knew that. It was something she couldn't change about herself. And she felt it couldn't possibly be her looks — she felt she never stood out in a crowd. So why her?
"Excuse me," she asked, her green eyes peering up at him as the music finally died and the crowd parted. "May I ask why you chose me to dance with?"
The boy blinked, tilting his head to the side.
"Oliver!" A woman cried from the other side of the square.
The boy's head turned toward the woman's voice. He took a few steps back, gearing himself to run, but before he did, he turned his attention back to Selma, a boyish grin on his face as he shrugged. "Dunno. I just saw a pretty girl and knew I wanted to dance with her…thanks for sayin' yes."
And then, he was gone, the space stretching as he sprinted across.
Selma knew she'd never see him again. Not that she was interested in someone who couldn't be older than sixteen. But the dance itself — the pure enjoyment of the moment — was fun.
She lifted her hand to her chest.
Fun.
Her hand tightened instinctively, but as soon as it did, she felt it — the pain.
The crowd began to thin from the square as the musicians packed up their belongings. And suddenly, she realized that she was all alone. Maren and Cora were nowhere to be seen. And Ariel was gone. She unclenched her hand at her chest, staring at the wound that peeked out from beneath the cloth.
Am I even allowed to have fun right now?