The Knight Of The Rose (34 page)

“You look gorgeous.”

“I look like a girl in her underwear.” With the door now closed, I dropped the hiding act, and

leaned back in front of the mirr or, trying to force t he silver st ud through unyielding hole in my

earlobe. “I’m just trying to get this damn thing to go in.”

“Need help?”

“Nah. I’m fine.” I glanced away from the mirror long enough to see his smiling eyes trace

my shoulders and ribs, fixing on my hips.

“New?”

“Yeah, I bought them to match my dress.” I slapped his hand off my blue lace undies.

“What about this? Have you always had a strapless bra or is that new too?”

“No. It’s new.”

“Well, you look very sexy—” his voice dragged, “—a little too sexy for an unmarried girl.”

“Stop it.” I slapped his hand away fr om my bottom again. “I can’t concentrate while you

keep doing that.”

“Here—let me try.”

“Okay, but, good luck.” I placed the earring in his waiting hand. “I haven’t been able to get

one in that hole for over a week.”

The warmth of his breath touched my neck as he leaned close, with the stud in his fingertips,

and fumbled against my earlobe until I heard a small ‘pop’. “All done.”

“Thanks.” I rubbed my ear. It burned a little.

“Is the other one okay?”

“Yeah, it’s just this one—it keeps closing. I don’t know why.”

“Start wearing your earrings and it won’t happen.”

“I can’t. I hate sleepi ng in them.” I leaned my butt against the dresser and br eathed out

heavily. “So?” I nodded, rolling my hand in the air, “—did you want something?”

“Oh, um—” He unf olded his arms. “I came to see if you were hungry. I uh, I haven’t seen

you eat anything today.”

“That’s because I haven’t,” I remarked, pushing past him to grab my robe.

“Ara?” he whined. “Why, baby?”

“Because, maybe if I don’t eat—I’ll die.” I flopped backward on my bed with a huff, leaving

my robe on the covers beside me.

“Ara? Grow up—you don’t mean that.” He stood above me with his arms folded.

“No—but I also kinda do.”

“Well,” he grabbed my hand and pulled my arm until I sat up, “then you need to get some

help, baby. That’s not normal.”

I forced a smile, tilting my head. “Mike. You worry too much. I’m fine. Really.”

“Ara? Girls who are fine don’t say they’re trying to starve themselves to death.”

“I didn’t really mean i t—not literally.” I stood up. “Now, go—let me get dressed, or I’ll be

going to the ball in my underwear.” I waved my hands down my body.

“Huh,” he scoffed, “you should—you’d be the belle of the ball, Ara.”

“Suck up.” I opened my door for him.

“Oh, in case I di dn’t mention it,” he said, pecking me on the cheek as he passed, “you look

hot like that.”

“You might have.” I rolled my eyes and shut the door.

The black and white image fused with colour as my mind came back to the present. The

night around me had fallen into complete silence; the crickets hushed, even the voices downstairs.

The stillness made me breathless, listening carefully for any signs of life. When I looked back at the

girl in the mirror, her face displayed my thoughts; how long were we out for that time?

For a flash of a second my eyes strayed from her pale face, onto the wiry shadows behind

her, where I was s ure I saw a pai r of green eyes staring back at me—a reflection from the world
I

lived in. My head whipped up and I spun around to grasp my windowsill, hope filling my heart as I

held back the call of his name on the tip of my lips. I leaned out into the dus k air and sear ched

frantically.

But, below, the quiet street was empty, and the streetlamp, spilling circles of white light onto

the pavement, flickered a few t imes, like a strobe. That same silence I’d come to hate greeted me

and my hope with a wall of emptiness.

I backed away from the window—away from the absence of anything that r esembled life,

then turned to my mirror and waited for the girl in the blue dress to l ook at me again. Hope faded

from her eyes as she and I realised, at the same time, that the face we thought we saw was not

David—merely physically manifested wishful thinking.

I don’t know why I keep excepting to see him. Sometimes I think I can
feel
his presence—

but he’s not outside my window. The only thing out there is the beginning of another night.

The first star of the evening broke through the thick orange and grey clouds as the sun

dropped behind the house. I watched the star through my reflection, wh ile the girl in front of me

looked on from another perspective. Once upon a time, I truly believed that shi mmering entity

would make my dreams come true.

But now, my only wish for t onight—like Cinderella—is that my Prince Charming would

find me for the last dance. After all, David turned this girl into a princess—it’s only right that he be

there to hold her one last time before she marries another man.

Dad’s smile melted into awe as I glided down the stairs.

“Dad?” I grinned at his wet, reddening eyes. “You okay?”

“You look so pretty, honey. Just like your first ballet concert.”

“Uh, yeah, well, just don’t lift me onto your shoulders this time.”

“Why, not? You’re still my little girl.” He look ed up at me where I stopped on the second

last step.

“I’m not a little girl, Dad.”

“Honey, you’ll always be my little girl.”

“I wonder what’s taking Ara so lo—” Mike stopped dead as he walked in; his arms dropped,

his lips split into a pearl y smile, and his eyes , from behind a small bl ack mask, glistened.

“Ara.”

“Hey, Mike.”

He leaped up onto the step. “You are heartbreakingly beautiful.”

Arm in arm, we stepped off the stairs and a flash went off in my face, blinding me, and most

certainly catching my sudden bl ush. “Come on—smile.” Vi cki ushered us around, waving the

camera about.

“Vicki. Really?” I whined.

“Come on, Ara. This might be the last ball you ever go to. I want memories.”

“Oh, fine.” I huffed, and Mike grinned at me with a kind of excitement behind his eyes that

wasn’t there when he was fo rced to escort me to the last ball we went to. But I didn’t share his

excitement.

Vicki posed us in awkwar d and weird places to snap her memories, but the world slowed

down around me, and I stood in the warm embrace of my fian cé, smiling for reasons I could only

pretend I felt—watching everything move as i f it were a movie screen, but wi th no volume. The

voices, the wind, the laughter, all gone—everything in my world was silent, empty—wrong.

This should have been David—it was always supposed to be David, but, once upon a time

I’d have said the same about Mike.

Everything is back where it was before—bef ore the universe flipped the hourglass, before I

lost everything in my wor ld that grounded my so ul, and before I ever knew anything about David

Knight. Now, I’m in the arms of the one I was destined to be with all along. It was an odd learning

curve, and a painful one, but I just have to accept it. When I get home, when I land in Perth and go

home to Mike’s house,
she
won’t be there—around the corner. Mum’s gone. Harry’s gone. And I

have to move on.

This is moving on.

I closed my eye s and let th e world pass by for a moment—spinning like the snow in a

musical, glass dome. When I opened them again, fairy lights twinkled from the tall white trunks of

leafless trees, and soft music filled my ears as sound suddenly enhanced my world again.

An almost magical glow seemed to surround everything. The majestic old council chamber

sat tall as the backdrop to the dim, candle- lit space, and masked dancer s twirled around the floor

with hypnotic cadence; sweeping and bowing to the harmony of a string quartet.

Mike and I stood at the cusp of the wooden dance floor, surrounded by the beauties, but my

eyes delighted only in the canopy of stars observing the Masquerade from the kingdom above.

“Do you recognise anyone?” Mike asked.

“Nope. If you weren’t beside me, I wouldn’t recognise you, either.”

I felt kind of lost, like I was alone in the crowded space. The dance floor, the stairs leading

up to the balcony off the council chamber, and even i ts marble railing was filled with people—

masked strangers—just like me, but for all I felt in my soul, the court could’ve been completel y

empty.

“Would you like some refreshments before we dance?” Mike gestured toward the balcony.

“I’m fine.” I tucked my arms into my chest.

I wonder if David’s here—watching.

“Would you like to dance?” Mike bowed, offering his hand.

First rule of a dance is never to refuse a dance
, I remembered my dad telling Sam when he

went to his first social.

With a curtsy and a nod, I obliged Mike, and with one step over the threshold of the dance

floor, he swept me into his safe, strong arms, and we joined the flow of dancers like a rose petal on

the breeze; never missing a beat. I followed each step of Mike’s wide stride, closing the movement

with a short, gliding turn, making patterns like circles around the room.

“When did you learn to dance like this?” I asked, very impressed.

“Well, a guy’s gotta know a few tricks if he’s gonna get the girl.” He smiled, and his sharply

curved grin pressed into his cheeks; a small flutter started my heart. He’s my Zorro again.

“I like this new you,” I said, turning my head in the direction our hands led us.

“Good, because this is the me you’ll be marrying.”

The music faded out and the room came to a standstill; Mike kissed my hand and bowed

while the rest of the crowd softly applauded the musicians.

“Can we go find Em and the others, now?” I asked.

“Of course, Ara—this is your night. We can do whatever you want.” He looked over his

shoulder. “Come on, we’ll go to the balcony—it’ll be easier to see from up there.”

As we passed through the crowd, they parted fo r us, turning their heads; I leaned clo ser to

Mike and whispered, “What are they staring at?”

“You,” he said factually.

“Why? Is my bra showing?” I quickly tucked my thumb around the rim of my dress.

“No, baby.” He laughed and pushed my hand down. “It’s just because, of all the beauty here

tonight, you’re the brightest thing in the room.”

Shrinking into myself, I glanced at the other costumes; pale grey, coffee, burgundy, black—

no blue. I was the only girl in a colour so bright. “Great. I feel like a wasp at a bumblebee

convention.”

Mike laughed. “Well, you look like the flower.”

“Erg.” I rolled my eyes; he’s so corny.

We stopped by the balcony rai ling and looked down to the room full of dancers , swirling

under a blanket of stars.

“Wow, it’s so much prettier from up here.” I felt like a god between worlds.

The clock on the tower chimed nine, and a giggling couple ran past, startling me with the

sudden noise. I watched them trip down the stairwell behind us and disappear under the darkness of

the tall trees and wide planes of grass on the other side.

“Sam says that’s a make-out spot.” Mike laughed, jerking his head in their direction.

“Yeah, that’s the chamber gardens—really pretty in the day,” I noted.

“Hm.” He nodded and leaned his f orearms on the railing beside me. “Right now it’s just

pretty dark.”

“Yeah, they’re not supposed to be down there.”

“Do you think your friends might be?”

I shook my head and sighed. If David were here, that’s where
we’d
be.

“You’re missing him...aren’t you?” Mike asked in a sympathetic tone, his eyes narrowing.

The cool night ai r brushed acr oss my collar bones—making bumps rise over my chest. I

drew a breath and looked away from him; there was no point in lying.

“I’m sorry,” he said, looking down at his clasped hands.

“Mike?” I started, “I—”

“Hey, there you are.” Befor e I even spun around, Emily wrapped her arms around my neck

and squeezed. I gave Spencer, who st ood awkwardly in t he dust cloud of Emily’s enthusiasm, a

short wave. “We’ve been looking everywhere for you guys.”

“Yeah, sorry.” I stood back from her and swiped my hair from my face. “But we’re here

now. And look at you—” Em ily twirled around to show her long blonde ponytail, in a spiral down

her back, and the perfect fit of the dress; Mike cleared his throat beside me. “How did you do this.”

I ran my fingers down her ponytail.

“Oh, I—” She stopped and looked beside us when Mike and Spencer s hook hands. “Oh

yeah, sorry guys.” She ducked her head a little. “Um, Mike—Spence, Spence—Mike.”

“Nice to meet you.” Mike grinned.

“So, you’re Ara’s fiancé?” Spence looked at me for confirmation.

“The one and only,” I said; Mike grinned as I linked my arm in his. He liked that. I coul d

tell. And I liked that he liked it, too. “So, Spencer? You scrub up nice,” I added.

“Yeah, thanks. You’re not so bad yourself, Ar a.” He appraised my gown—not in a creepy

way, but I think he was just as shocked as I was that it was actually me under all the sparkles.

“Where’s Alana?” I asked.

“Haven’t seen her.” Emily shrugged.

We looked over the crowd of dancers for a moment. Each one was hidden beneath a mask of

feathers or sequins, their hair drawn up in dazzling ri

nglets or left down to fl ow over their

shoulders. It seemed a futile attempt to find a person among them. Then I spotted a girl at the centre