Page 47 of Ellie and the Prince

Had her glimpses into Prince Briar’s heart enhanced her gift? Or was it the unicorns, or the Gamekeeper? She struggled to block these random impressions and instead focused on individuals.

There was King Aryn at a table near the garden doors, playing cards with three nobles. He was content enough with his hand and his situation, relaxed and confident. Ellie had always liked the king’s earnest face that reflected his inner man.

Queen Sofia sat amid other ladies and talked. The woman’s smooth features and bright smile revealed little of the varied blend of emotions stirring within her. Love—there was so much love in Omar’s mother. Touches of concern as well, but underlying faith and serenity prevented it from lining the queen’s face.

The song ended, and several of the dancers walked off the dance floor and scattered. Others went in search of new partners or simply waited for the next song to begin. Ellie was working up courage to thread her way around the room in search of Omar when someone addressed her in a voice she instantly recognized: “Good evening, mysterious lady in violet. May I have the honor of your next dance?”

Silvery eyes gleamed at her from behind a plain black domino. Ellie grinned. “You may, sir.” Prince Briar was an expert dancer. This should be fun.

He led her to the floor, and as soon as the lively music began and Briar twirled her into a backward dip, she could have laughed for joy. How had she lived without dancing all these years? Facing her and holding her hands, the scoundrel prince from Auvers led her in a series of intricate steps, and Ellie followed him with ease, as if they had practiced these moves together a thousand times, as if this moment had been selected from among her lost memories. He spun her, twirled her in a fancy lift, and she ended the swing dance in a back dip over his knee, her foot in its glass slipper twinkling high in the air. Panting and smiling in delight, Ellie heard applause all around and realized that the other dancers faced them in a wide circle. Several cried out, “Bravo! Bravo! That was amazing!”

As Briar pulled her upright, he laughed, his triumph matching hers. “I knew it,” she gasped between pants. “I knew I could dance! How did you learn to dance so well?”

He gave her a sharp glance, and she didn’t need magic to sense his disappointment. “I took lessons for many years.” A pause. “And you?”

“I . . . I think I did too.”

“You think? You don’t know?”

Ellie stared into his eyes, feeling strangely as though she looked into a mirror. “Briar . . .”

Then his gaze moved past her. “Ah.” He straightened his shoulders and cleared his throat, evidently repressing a smile. “Your dance, sir?”

“I hope so.”

Ellie spun to face Omar. She could not read his expression through his mask but sensed waves of uncertainty and hurt. “Omar,” she breathed, and his expression brightened, for in that one word she revealed her feelings for him.

“Dance with me?” His whisper was a plea.

Ellie laid her hand in his and waited for the music to start. Other couples joined them on the floor, but Ellie saw only Omar. He looked amazing in a tuxedo, its snowy collar and cravat bright against his dark skin; and his eyes glittered through the eye-holes of a simple domino. She did not expect him to dance as well as Briar, but it didn’t matter. She was thrilled to dance with him no matter what!

Having no dance card, she had no idea what to expect, so when a trumpet played the first notes, she nearly laughed aloud. A salsa dance? This should be interesting.

But when Omar spun her into a firm hold then began to sway with her to the beat, his eyes locked on hers, she quickly adjusted her expectations and followed his lead.

Dancing with Briar had been fun; this dance was a taste of heaven. Omar danced the salsa with grace and confidence, Ellie’s full skirts swished around her legs and his, and the sultry music seemed to move their bodies with its power. They danced around each other, apart then together, touching and releasing, their eyes locked between spins. Ellie felt as if a lost part of herself had returned, and the sensation was marvelous. Once again, the other dancers circled to watch, clapping and shouting to the rapid beat. And when Omar laid her back over his arm for a spectacular finale, she stared up into his eyes sparkling through his black mask and felt fully alive.

The cheers and applause were even louder this time, and when they straightened, held hands, and took a bow, Ellie realized that every human in the room had gathered to watch that dance. In all her years at Faraway Castle, nothing quite like this had happened before.

But then the band swept into a waltz, and couples rejoined them on the dance floor. Omar gave her a questioning look, and she turned to take his hand and begin. This time they simply waltzed like everyone else, and it was possibly even better. She felt like thistledown in his light clasp, airy and free. His dark eyes studied her face, yet she could not guess his thoughts. Had he learned how to hide his emotions from her? No one but the Gamekeeper—and Briar—had successfully done so before.

“What are you thinking, Omar?” she asked. “You look so . . . intense.”

“I am thinking how incredibly beautiful you are,” he said in his silky voice, and Ellie’s knees nearly melted. “Why did you decide to come tonight?”

She lowered her gaze to his tie. After an uncomfortable moment, she said, “I always wanted to come with you, but I was afraid.”

“Afraid? Of me?”

She shook her head decidedly and felt her ponytail swish over her bare shoulders. “Never of you. Of your parents, of your people, of . . . of Madame Genevieve. And a little afraid of myself. There is much you don’t know about me, Omar. To be honest, there is much I don’t know about myself.”

“Isn’t that true of most people? We are always discovering who we want to be and who we truly are. Our actions reveal our hearts, and I find your heart even more beautiful than your face.”

He had danced her to the side of the dance floor nearest the garden doors. Taking her by the hand, he walked her through the throng of guests and out onto the wide deck. There, beneath the stars, several other couples sat together on the low wall or embraced, oblivious to their surroundings. Omar led Ellie down a set of steps nearly hidden beneath arbors covered in flowering vines and into a narrow garden that bloomed in glowing, magical splendor thanks to Rosa’s rare gift. Carnations, phlox, moonflowers, and lilies blended rich scents into a heady perfume. Hand in hand they wandered the garden paths until Omar found an unoccupied bench beneath a vine-draped pergola. He pulled off his mask, laid his jacket on the bench to protect Ellie’s gown, then sat beside her.

“Ellie, you already know, but I must tell you again: I have never loved anyone the way I love you. You are everything I most admire. You are strong and independent, yet gentle and generous. You think of other people before yourself and never seem aware of your own beauty and charm. I love watching you with my younger siblings and can easily imagine raising a family with you. You use your magical gifts to benefit others, not yourself; and you even demonstrate love to hobgoblins and brownies, creatures few people notice, let alone befriend.”

He paused and swallowed hard. “I ask now if you would consider marrying me and moving to my country. If you would rather that I stay in the north with you, I will do it. I would almost prefer that, particularly during summers. We could return here for holidays, or you could even work here if you like. I believe you should develop and use your magical gifts, and I don’t think you would be happy living an idle life. Please say you will think about it, Ellie.”

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