Heart of Silver, Soul of Glass By Stormlight Chapter Two Two weeks before Princess Rei’s thirteenth birthday, Queen Julietta decided that it was high time her daughter was given a royal Masque of her own. Not a tea party as she’d been given for all her other birthdays, but a real ball, with music and dancing and a huge banquet and royalty from all over, dressed in their finest. Needless to say, Rei, Serena and Miaka were all very excited about it. Rei had always been considered too young to attend a grown-up Masque before, although she had often hidden in one of the back rooms to watch it from afar, and of course Serena and Miaka had always been with her. It had been so exciting to sit in that dark room, shoving each other out of the way so they could take turns peering out through the crack in the door to watch the brightly-clothed dancers sweep by. Of course half the fun of being there was the fact that it was forbidden, and whenever a servant or guest should happen to venture near that particular room, upon hearing suspicious squeaks and giggles issuing from the other side of the door, it was a heart-pounding, madcap race to the nearest table to hide beneath the linen tablecloth, hands clapped over each others’ mouths to stifle gleeful giggles until the intruder had satisfied his curiosity and left again. Still, as exciting as those late-night journeys had been—sneaking down to the ballroom without getting caught was not an easy task for three little girls to accomplish, after all—they paled in comparison to actually being able to attend a real Masque. Serena and Rei sat beneath the sprawling oak tree in the castle gardens one afternoon, enjoying the warm, spring air after a particularly cold winter, and discussed what kinds of costumes they might wear. Miaka was in the library reading a book for her latest assignment, much to Serena’s disgust. How could anyone spend such a beautiful day inside reading books?! "We need to be original!" Rei was stating seriously. "We have to find costumes that nobody else would think of." "I’ll bet your mother invites a lot of princes to the Masque!" Serena replied mischievously. "Is that why you’re so worried about what to wear? Have to make a good impression for them, after all." Rei’s eyes widened. "I should think not!" she sniffed. "I won’t fall in love with just anyone you know. He has to be…special." "Don’t worry," Serena replied enthusiastically. "I bet you meet a handsome prince at the Masque, and he’s so smitten by you that he proposes right away, and sends you lots of presents and flowers and food!" Rei giggled hysterically and threw a handful of leaves at her. "Only you would think of food as a romantic gift!" she snorted. "Bottomless stomach that you are!" Serena stuck her tongue out at Rei and razzed her, to which the princess replied in kind. "I thought I heard a couple of cats wailing over here," a deep, dry voice suddenly cut in through the girls’ banter, causing the both of them to fall silent in shock. Serena glared up at Endymion, who had somehow managed to sneak up on them without them noticing him, which was very odd, considering that over the past few years he had sprung up like a weed and was now taller than even the king. He drew attention everywhere he went with his serious, commanding presence and strong, masculine beauty, and it was well known throughout Davinshire that he could make any lady, young or old, swoon with a single smile. Well…except for Serena, of course. Even though he was eighteen now, and had grown into a most attractive young man, he still acted like the obnoxious child Serena had grown up hating, and she refused to change her opinion of him, even now. Who cared what a fellow looked like when on the inside his brain was nothing but a pile of mush? "I don’t think anybody invited you to join in the conversation," she sniffed, turning her back on him. "Why don’t you go play with the horses or something?" Endymion frowned down at the back of her golden head. "One of these days you’re going to push me too far," he told her angrily, "and then we’ll see how much more disrespect you’ll show me when I have you tossed into the dungeon, you arrogant little snot!" "Endy!" Rei snapped, glaring at her brother. "Stop harassing Serena and just leave us be! We were discussing my Masque! And shouldn’t you be training with Hotohori now, anyway?" Endymion shrugged, before a sly smile curled his lips. "I don’t know why you’re so excited about the Masque," he replied, addressing Serena. "You won’t be able to attend it, anyway. Only those of royalty or high standing in society are invited, after all, and the last time I checked, you were only the lowly daughter of a servant woman." And with those words, he turned and strode away toward the practice grounds. There was a moment of stunned silence, and then Serena turned wide, wounded eyes to the princess. "H-he’s right, isn’t he?" she stammered. "I couldn’t come. I-I’m nothing but a servant. And Miaka…but she was so looking forward to…" "Don’t you listen to him!" Rei exclaimed fiercely, her eyes glittering angrily. "That was cruel, him saying such mean things. And it isn’t true! You are coming! You and Miaka both! I would never leave you out of my Masque! Why, you’re closer to me than blood! I’ve never had to grow up wondering what it was like to have a sister, because you’ve always been there with me!" "But, Rei…" "No buts!" Rei insisted, smiling now. "You are coming to this Masque, no matter what anyone else says, or else I’m not coming to it, either!" Serena’s eyes grew bright, and a wide grin spread across her face as she threw her arms around the princess’s shoulders. "Thank you, Rei!" she squealed. "I’ve never had a better friend than you!" "And don’t you forget it!" Rei replied haughtily, tossing her hair. "Now come on. We’re going to find my mother and I’m going to tell her that you’re coming to the Masque. It’s my party, after all, so I ought to have some say in who gets to come!" "Ya know, I just had a great thought about what Endymion should dress up as for the Masque," Serena told her, grinning wickedly. "Oh? Dare I ask what it is?" Rei replied with a giggle. "An ogre." Serena nodded firmly. "Yup, he should definitely go as an ogre. It’d match his personality perfectly!" With that, she turned tail and raced Rei back into the castle, giggling all the way. ~~~{~@ ~~~{~@ ~~~{~@ Finally, the night of the Masque arrived, and the castle was brimming with activity. The grand ballroom had been cleaned top to bottom the day before so that it glowed like rare pearls, and the colorful, silken streamers that had been hung from the ceiling and chandeliers fluttered in a soft breeze that swept in through the opened doorways. The guests that filled the room were even more splendid than the room itself, dressed in every type of costume imaginable, in just as many colors. From the grand entrance of the ballroom, a butterfly, a swan, and a unicorn all watched the proceedings with delighted wonder. "It’s like something out of a fairy tale," Serena sighed. Those late- night peeks through a crack in the door hadn’t revealed half the splendor a Masque could hold. "Oh, Rei, thank you so much for letting us come!" "You’re welcome. Besides, if I hadn’t, I doubt you’d ever speak to me again," the princess replied with a smile. She smoothed an imaginary wrinkle from her costume, a beautiful gown of a deep, royal purple that touched the floor in a graceful fall of silk, embroidered generously with gold and silver thread around the cuffs of the flowing sleeves and the low sweep of her neckline. A silver belt hugged her slender waist loosely, and the mask she wore over her face was made of the bright, blue-green plumage of peacocks, shaped into a graceful butterfly. On her back, a pair of shimmering, iridescent silk wings seemed to flutter with life of their own, and her royal crown—a simple band of silver set with pale amethysts—sparkled brilliantly. Never had a more lovely butterfly graced the halls of Castle Rosewood. "Look at all the people!" Serena whispered excitedly. "How many of them are princes, do you think?" She peered out at the scene from beneath her own mask, a lovely creation of white velvet and pearls, with a small, golden, spiraling horn arching gracefully from its center. Her gown of soft, white velvet swept to the floor behind her, with gold-silk ribbons lacing her trailing sleeves to her elbows and along the front of her bodice. Her hair, normally tied into braids or buns on top of her head, was loose and flowing to her knees, curled and entwined with white, fluttering ribbons. It was clear which mystical creature she represented. "I thought you hated princes," Miaka giggled, poking her in the side. Serena thought for a moment. "Not all of them," she decided resolutely. "Just Endymion." "Serena, please don’t fight with my brother tonight," Rei begged, turning to her and gripping her arm in earnestness. "If you meet him, simply bow and smile and move on. If he tries to goad you, ignore him. Please? For me? Just this once?" Serena blinked. "Of course, Rei. If it’s that important to you," she replied. The princess smiled. "Thank you. He’ll be dressed as a dragon, by the way, so you’ll know who to avoid." Both Serena’s and Miaka’s jaws dropped. "A dragon?" Miaka repeated. She glanced at Serena, and began to giggle. "What a funny coincidence, for Serena to be a unicorn and her worst enemy to be a dragon!" Serena pouted. "It suits his personality even better than an ogre," she sniffed, sticking her nose in the air. Rei giggled and gave her friends a light push toward the ballroom. "Go! Enjoy yourselves. I need to say hello to some guests." She gathered her skirts in one hand and swept gracefully into the crowd of dancers, leaving the two sisters by themselves. "Well," Miaka said, blinking. "I guess we’re on our own." She tugged nervously on her skirts. "Do I look all right?" she whispered. "Of course!" Serena whispered back. "You make a beautiful swan!" Miaka smiled nervously and pushed back a lock of her long chestnut hair, which was curled and woven with silver ribbons and gleaming white swan feathers. Her mask was also made of feathers, and her gown looked very much like Serena’s, with silver embroidery in place of the gold. A pair of feathered wings graced her back. "I’m suddenly very nervous," she confided. "It isn’t the same when Rei isn’t here." "We don’t need Rei to have a good time," Serena insisted. "We can do well enough on our own! We’re as welcome to be here as all these prince and princesses are!" "You’re right." Miaka nodded. "Maybe something to drink will help to ease our nerves?" "Stay here, and I’ll get some fruit juice for us," Serena volunteered, picking up her skirts to carefully make her way through the growing crowd of guests. She felt a little intimidated brushing elbows with so much royalty, but reminded herself quite firmly that she was best friends with a princess, after all, and had nothing to be worried about. Turning around once to give Miaka a reassuring smile—which was meant more to reassure herself, in truth—her eyes widened when she noticed a striking figure in scarlet approaching her sister. A sly smile touched her lips when she recognized a familiar length of silvery-brown hair trailing beneath a golden crown. Turning back again with a giggle, Serena deliberately slowed her pace, eyes sparkling mischievously behind her mask. ~~~{~@ ~~~{~@ ~~~{~@ Miaka sighed as she waited for her sister to return with her drink, and absently brushed a wayward feather away from her eyes. It had already been quite a few minutes; surely it didn’t take that long to find the refreshments! Maybe I’d better go find it myself, she thought amusedly. Some handsome prince probably swept her off to dance, and she forgot all about me. She sighed wistfully. Her little sister was so pretty, with those large, innocent blue eyes and that beautiful, flowing hair. Even at only twelve (almost thirteen), the longing glances cast in Serena’s direction by the pages and stable boys, and even visiting royalty, were hard to miss, although Serena herself seemed unaware of them. Miaka shook her head to bring herself out of melancholy thoughts. Now was neither the time nor place for self-pity. Here she was, hobnobbing with royalty and rubbing shoulders with the elite of society! It was the greatest night of her life, and she intended on enjoying every moment of it. Determinedly, she started for the refreshment table, only to find herself running headlong into a brightly-colored figure who had suddenly appeared before her. "Oh!" she gasped, stumbling back a few steps. The man’s hands came up to grip her arms, helping her to regain her balance. Miaka blushed as she gazed in mortification up at the scarlet-clothed figure. The golden band set with rubies around his head was a clear symbol of his royalty. "Please excuse me, Your Highness," she pleaded, dropping a low curtsey. "There’s no need to be so formal," a familiar voice replied, making her eyes snap up. A smile twitched at the man’s lips as he lifted his hand to raise his scarlet-feathered mask ever-so-slightly, and then her mouth formed a silent O when she saw Hotohori’s golden brown eyes shining down on her. "P-prince Hotohori!" He smiled again and shook his head, chuckling a little. "Miaka. You look very lovely tonight," he told her sincerely. "An angel?" She blushed a little more. "A swan, actually," she replied sheepishly. "And a lovelier swan I’ve never seen," he replied softly. "Tell me, would you care to dance with a lowly phoenix? Birds of a feather and all…" He smiled gently at her blush. "Is that what you are?" she asked curiously, eyeing his costume. His tunic and trousers were of brilliant velvet, and he wore a long cloak that attached at his wrists on either end, sewn with strips of scarlet, orange, and yellow iridescent silk that fluttered with every movement, giving the impression of fiery wings. "It’s a wonderful costume," she added. "Thank you," he replied, bowing a little. Then he held out his hand. "Now…about that dance…?" She blinked at him. "Y-you really want to dance with me? Wouldn’t you rather dance with one of the princesses?" she stammered in amazement. "I-I’m sure any one of them would be thrilled if you asked them…" He smiled again. "Perhaps. But I would much rather dance with a known friend," he replied gently. "You seemed a little forlorn here all by yourself, and I hate to see a frown on such a lovely face. I’m one of those rescue-the-damsel-in-distress type of people, you know." He tilted his head to one side, a lock of soft hair falling across his eyes in a most becoming manner. "Besides," he added teasingly, "I heard that Rei forced you to take dancing lessons with her awhile ago, and that you’ve never had the chance to put them to use. I would be honored be your first official dance partner." Miaka was speechless. She swallowed and nodded, unable to form a coherent reply, and when Hotohori linked her hand through his arm to guide her out on the floor, she felt as though her young heart might float right out of her chest. She had never dreamed that Hotohori would actually ask her to dance with him, and not any of the older, much lovelier visions surrounding him, but there he was, and there she was, living a variable dream. "Are you sure," she couldn’t help whispering, "that you won’t get into trouble for this?" She bit her lip and added, "What if somebody realizes I’m only a servant?" "Do you really think I care that you’re only a servant, Miaka?" he asked her quietly as they waltzed together. "We grew up together, and you are my sister’s closest friend aside from Serenity. You are every bit as much a member of this family as Rei is." He leaned closer to her and added, "And at the moment, you look like every bit the princess. Nobody would realize who you are, and even if they did, I would not care in the least." She smiled at him shyly and replied, "Thank you." Then she allowed him to sweep her away and spoke not another word. ~~~{~@ ~~~{~@ ~~~{~@ Serena was bored. She stood by herself, watching everyone dancing, and sipped fruit juice from a crystal chalice. She sighed as a fairy woman and an antlered man waltzed past, laughing together, and wished heartily that she could join them. But nobody had asked her to dance, as of yet, and it really wasn’t any wonder. She wrinkled her nose and looked down at her costume. A unicorn. What had she been thinking? Could she have possibly chosen something more childish than a unicorn? It wasn’t any wonder no young man had asked her to dance; she probably looked even younger than her twelve (almost thirteen!) years of age. She didn’t fill out her dress half so well as Miaka and Rei filled theirs, and she wasn’t very tall. Why would any young man ask her to dance when so many other beautiful, older women were available? Deciding that she needed a breath of fresh air, Serena set her empty glass down on a table, and was just turning to leave when she felt a tap on her shoulder. She turned in surprise, to find herself being confronted with a tall young man dressed in a shimmering costume of emerald-and-turquoise silk and velvet. A green-scaled, gilded half-mask covered most of his face, but she could see the hint of deep blue eyes peering at her from beneath. "Might I have this dance, Milady?" he asked politely, and Serena was barely able to keep her jaw from hanging open in shock. She knew that voice! What was more, she knew the man. The golden band set with blue diamonds around his head—Endymion’s royal crown—gave her no doubt as to the man’s identity. But why in the world is he asking me to dance?! she wondered suspiciously. As if I’d actually stoop to dance with him! She opened her mouth, all set to decline his invitation—and quite vocally, I might add—when a sudden thought gave her pause. He probably expects me to decline, she realized, somewhat smugly, and then he can make a big fuss over how I refused to dance with the crown prince of Davinshire, and Rei’ll get mad ‘cause I broke my promise to her. Serena’s eyes narrowed slightly. Well, I’ll just show him what’s what! "I would be honored, sir," she replied primly, sweeping as elegant a curtsy as she knew how. He smiled widely and offered her his arm; if he was shocked at her response, he was hiding it well, and Serena wished jealously that she was half the actor Endymion was. It never even occurred to her that, being so transformed from the little servant girl into the ethereal young woman before him, the crown prince might not have even recognized her for who she really was. ~~~{~@ ~~~{~@ ~~~{~@ Miaka listened to Hotohori’s soft voice as he described a rather hilarious event involving himself, his brother, a pair of stubborn horses, and a variable lake of mud, and was doing her best to hold in her riotous giggles, when her eyes fell upon a most surprising sight. Her mouth parted on a silent gasp as the other couple passed them on the floor, and her eyes widened in disbelief. "What is the matter, Miaka?" Hotohori asked upon noticing her expression. "Th-that was your brother, wasn’t it?" she asked, brow furrowing slightly. "The dragon, I mean." Hotohori’s eyes searched the crowd as he danced, until they fell upon his brother. A smile twitched his lips. "Indeed it was," he replied wryly, "and dancing with a lady, too, I might add! He rarely ever dances. He would much rather be with my father and discuss war tactics. I wonder who that creature is that he’s dancing with? A unicorn, of all things!" "That unicorn," Miaka replied in a voice thick with mirth, "just happens to be my little sister!" Now his jaw dropped. "Serenity?" He tilted his head to one side. "I never would have recognized her," he added in amazement. Miaka’s eyes widened. "You don’t suppose he didn’t recognize her, do you?" she mused. "Knowing how those two feel about each other, he probably wouldn’t have asked her, otherwise," Hotohori replied wryly. "Even though she is one of the loveliest women in this room that I’ve seen yet." Glancing down at her, he added softly, "Aside from my dancing partner, that is." Miaka blushed a little at his compliment, but she was too distracted to be truly embarrassed by it. "But…Serena knows who he is! Rei told her what he was dressed as. She practically begged Serena to not fight with Endymion tonight, and Serena promised she wouldn’t…" "So perhaps she is dancing with him to uphold her promise to my sister. To refuse a dance with the crown prince would cause quite a stir, after all…" Miaka snorted and shook her head. "Actually…knowing my sister…she’s probably taking advantage of the situation to use it as ammunition for future battles," she replied dryly. "Well, might I suggest that for now we forget about our siblings and concentrate on enjoying ourselves, instead?" Hotohori asked, turning to look into her eyes. "The night is still young, after all." She blushed a little. "We’ve been dancing together for the past four songs," she replied. "I think your mother is starting to get annoyed with you for ignoring the other guests." She cast a pointed glance to where King Reagan and Queen Julietta—splendidly dressed as the Fae rulers, Oberon and Titania—were talking with several other guests. The queen was, indeed, casting disapproving glances in the direction of her youngest son, and he sighed. "I suppose you are right," he replied regretfully. "I guess I’d better mingle a little." He looked down at Miaka. "You’ll be okay though, won’t you? I know how intimidating these events can be when you don’t know anyone." She blinked at him, touched by his concern, then smiled. "I’ll be fine," she assured him. "If worse comes to worst, I can always find my sister and goad her about her dance with Endymion." She giggled a little, and Hotohori smiled in return. Taking her hand within his own, he raised it to his lips and kissed it softly, bowing to her before turning to disappear into the crowd. Miaka watched him go, her eyes shining, realizing—as she often had before—that it would be very easy indeed to fall in love with this man. A frown touched her lips at that thought. But she must never allow herself to do so, she reminded herself firmly. Hotohori was a prince, and therefore off limits to a mere commoner. Besides, no matter how nice he was to her, what could somebody like him ever see in a simple peasant like her? She watched as the prince paused before a beautiful girl with flowing black hair and large, dark eyes, dressed rather scantily as a gypsy maiden. An echo of his soft, deep voice floated back to Miaka, making her shiver slightly, and the woman smiled at him guilefully and bowed a deep curtsey, showing off her rather over-developed cleavage to its full advantage. Miaka’s fist clenched, hidden within the folds of her velvet skirts, and her eyes narrowed. He’s just doing his duty as a member of the royal family, she told herself firmly. But does he have to do it with someone so utterly beautiful? an anxious voice in her mind argued back. Why not choose to dance with one of the plainer women? And exactly how many "plain" women do you see in this room?! Jealousy is unworthy of you. Get over it! He’s of royalty, and you’re not, and all the wishes in the world aren’t going to change it. A feeling of heartsickness came over Miaka as she watched Hotohori and the nameless woman dancing in each others arms, looking as though they were enjoying each other’s company far too much for her liking. And as she watched, she came to the dreadful realization that, no matter how many warnings she gave herself to never fall in love with him, it was already far too late for her to heed them. ~~~{~@ ~~~{~@ ~~~{~@ Endymion was a wonderful dancer, Serena had to give him that. His movements were graceful and refined, and his touch on her waist was warm and gentle, causing all sorts of delightful shivers to race up her spine. Oh, good grief! she thought in disgust. Get ahold of yourself, Serenity! There was no chance that she was going to allow this infuriating, arrogant jackass of a prince to affect her like this, even if he was an excellent dancer! Why, she’d barely outgrown her dolls, and she had years ahead of her to think about boys in that way! There was no need to waste any of those thoughts on him, of all people! "Is something wrong, Milady?" Endymion suddenly questioned. "You seem so tense." She blinked and looked up at him, half in annoyance and half in surprise. This politeness is getting to be too much, she thought wryly. He’s making me nervous. Aloud, she replied, "You might as well drop the act, Endymion. I know you know who I am, and I know who you are." He seemed confused, although it was hard to tell beneath his glittering mask. "I…Forgive me, Milady, but have we met? I’m sure I would remember such a beautiful creature…" She snorted. "Rei’s right. You are a charmer when you put your mind to it, but you don’t fool me! Rei told me what you were dressed as, and I promised her I wouldn’t fight with you and ruin her party, so no matter what…you…do…" Here her voice trailed away on a whisper upon seeing that the prince’s face had suddenly drained of all color, and he looked as though he would have liked to pass out right then and there. She peered up at him anxiously. Not that it wouldn’t be hilarious to see the crown prince sprawled out like a wet sack in the middle of his sister’s royal Masque, but it would cause a scene which Serena was sure Endymion would find some way to blame on her. "Eh…maybe you’d better go get some air or something," she suggested nervously. "Rei’ll kill you if you cause a scene at her party. And anyway, I promised her I wouldn’t get you riled, so she’d get mad at me, too." Endymion seemed to regain control of himself, then, and continued dancing. This surprised her. She’d figured out by then that he truly hadn’t recognized her—a fact that she was never going to let him forget—but now that he did know, why wasn’t he fleeing from her like she carried the plague, as she’d fully expected him to do? She discovered his intent a moment later when he started dancing them toward the nearest exit out into the moonlit gardens, and her eyes widened. But there was no way she could escape his tight grasp without causing a scene, which wouldn’t bode well for her if Rei discovered it. She had no choice but to allow him to lead her outside, but as soon as they reached the tiled area around the fountain, Endymion released her, and she quickly skipped a few paces away, bracing herself for another tongue-lashing while meeting his gaze defiantly. He merely looked at her. She stared right back, waiting, fidgeting nervously. "Well?" she exclaimed. "Go ahead and yell! That’s what you brought me out here for, isn’t it?" He merely stepped toward her, making her flinch back a little. He paused, looking at her a bit scornfully, and she proudly stuck her chin in the air and stood her ground as he carefully reached around her to untie the ribbons holding her mask in place. His silk-clad arms softly brushed her cheeks and hair, and his chest was only inches from her face. She could hear his heart beating next to her ear, and the sound caused her own heart to quicken its pace. She swallowed, fighting unfamiliar feelings and emotions as he carefully untangled the silken ribbons from her hair and finally stepped back, taking her mask with him. "Wh-what do you think you’re doing?" she protested, hating the way her voice came out sounding weak and breathless. Don’t give him an advantage over you! she warned herself fiercely. If he knew he affected her this badly, she’d never hear the end of it! Besides…she hated him! He didn’t answer her question; merely let the mask dangle loosely from his fingers as he stepped back to gaze at her some more, something akin to wonder hiding in his eyes. "It’s…you," he breathed, shaking his head a little. "So what?" she snapped, crossing her arms nervously, then uncrossing them again. "Gimme my mask!" "I can’t believe it. Little Serena," he merely mumbled, one hand coming up to massage his temple, as though warding off a headache. "No wonder I didn’t recognize you. You look…well…look at you!" He seemed…bewildered, and suspicious, and even angry, just a little, as though it was her fault that he was standing there stuttering like a ninny. She blushed fiercely at his words, and at the odd look in his eyes that belied his annoyed expression, and cursed him for removing the mask so she couldn’t even hide her embarrassment. "So what? You don’t have any reason to be mad at me for it! It isn’t my fault you’re stupid!" she cried furiously, not thinking about what she was saying, only wanting to get away from him before the strange feelings began to overwhelm her. She had the most insane urge to latch her arms around his waist and hold him for all she was worth, listening to his heart beating softly against her ear, and that was enough to scare all the fight right out of her. She reached out a hand, stepping toward him in silent demand. He blinked, looking at the delicate mask he held, before slowly raising his eyes to meet her own. The annoyance was gone, leaving only a strange resignation in its place, and he stepped toward her, ignoring her outstretched hand to bring the mask up to her face once more, again reaching behind her to tie it back in place. His heartbeat, she noticed, had quickened, and his fingers trembled ever-so- slightly as they curled into her hair before withdrawing again. As soon as he stepped away from her, hands dropping to hang limp at his sides, she backed away, staring at him through wide eyes. He held her gaze for a moment longer before turning away, as though ashamed to look at her. Turning on her heel, Serena ran back into the ballroom, wanting nothing more than for the night to be over and for her to wake up from this impossible dream.