Page 48 of Somber Prince
“Why is that?”
Did I really want to discuss my entire life with him? The problem was, Rha had turned out to be an excellent listener. I came here to ask questions, but he ended up being the one gently prying the door open to my innermost thoughts and feelings.
“Dancing,” I said, evading his last question. “Dancing makes me happy. When I dance, I always feel joy.”
His golden eyes opened wide. He looked even more shocked than when he’d first learned about the existence of orange cats. “I didn’t know you danced.”
“Do you dance too?”
“No, but I’ve heard of it.”
“You’ve heard of it?” I stared at him in bewilderment. “Rha, please don’t tell me you’ve never seen a dance performance.”
“But I have not.”
“You’re lying,” I gasped.
“Why would I lie?”
“I don’t know. But… How could you never have seen a dance?”
It was beyond my comprehension. For me, dance was everywhere. I lived and breathed it, even when offstage. I followed all the great performers. I was aware of every dance production in the country and almost the entire world. I constantly had choreography ideas running through my brain, accompanied by music playing in my mind. I danced in my head, even as I hadn’t stepped a foot on a stage in many months now.
It might be the wine rushing through my bloodstream that spurred me on, but I couldn’t stand the idea of someone, anyone, being so completely deprived of the joy that dance had given me over the years.
“That’s so wrong, Rha.” I climbed to my feet. “We need to fix it.”
The music playing in the room was too slow. I knew the classic ballroom styles, of course, and danced them all at competitions when I was younger. But my true passion had always been contemporary dance. It allowed for the best expression of emotion for me. And now, I yearned to move.
“Can we play a little faster, boys and girls?” I asked the musicians.
They paused, blinking at me in confusion. I assumed they were here entirely for my benefit, since Rha couldn’t feel the pleasure that music brought. The musicians’ execution had been flawless but soulless, like by someone who had meticulously learned to play an instrument and hit all the right notes at the right time but derived no joy from the result.
“May I?” I took a string instrument from the hands of a woman on the stage and plucked the strings in a high-tempo tune. “Hear this? Faster, like that. Can you do it, please?”
She took the instrument from me and dutifully repeated the notes and the tempo I’d just played.
“There you go.” I nodded in encouragement as others followed her lead, picking up the speed.
I grabbed the wrist of a man with a large tambourine in his hand and hit the tight skin of the instrument with my other hand.
“Just like this, please.” I set the tempo on the tambourine before giving the control back to the man. “Keep going.”
Tapping my foot to the new rhythm, I directed the musicians with my hands. “You’re doing great! Now keep holding it.”
I glanced back at Rha over my shoulder. He’d already ordered the servants who’d served my dinner to move the table all the way to the opposite wall, making space for me in the middle of the room.
I considered the choreography for a moment, then did what I often did when I danced purely for pleasure. I dropped my eyelids, shut my overthinking mind out of it, and let the music take me.
Blood rushed through my veins with energy. The soft-sole sandals allowed me to glide easily over the marble floor. The flowing skirt of my dress fanned out like a butterfly wing as I raised my leg in an arabesque, then swirled like a flower blossom with my turns.
I lost track of time and even the awareness of the place I was in. It’d been so long since my last dance, even longer since I danced simply for the sake of it, without the pressure of an audition or competition.
I started this for Rha but ended up doing it for me. The tightness in my chest eased. Tension drained from my muscles. My very soul appeared to soar, lifted by the music.
As I came out from another spin, my gaze fell on the prince in his seat. His head was tilted in the way he did when he tried to understand me. He tried. But he couldn’t. He simply couldn’t feel the way I did.
“Come here.” I gestured for him to come closer.