I even felt like a princess in my rose pink gown, held in the arms of an actual prince. My Chantilly lace strapless corset top draped down just below my drop waist into an angled tier over folds and folds of a chrysanthemum organza blossom skirt. Kiran presented me with a thin silver tiara, tucked into piles of tamed curls a palace hair dresser spent hours perfecting. Pink sapphires glistened against my neck and wrists in antique royal jewelry, and dangled from my ears as dainty accessories testifying to the wealth of the royal family. I never felt more elegant. More beautiful.
More like an imposter.
Even my relationship was a lie. The stolen kisses, the dreamy look in my eyes, the secret whispers between a prince and his future bride encouraged the illusion that Kiran and I were soul mates after all. With his hand around my waist even now, and his eyes desperately searching out mine, I was even tempted to believe that he still loved me.
I laughed at myself, invoking curiosity from my already confused partner. I couldn't explain to him the audacity of my situation, of my imprisonment. I didn't want to. I didn't owe Kiran anything, certainly not an explanation on every thought that flew through my head.
“Are you having a good time?” Kiran asked, sensing my reserve.
“Yes,” I answered simply. His eyes stayed on me as I let him move me around the floor, drawing me ever closer to him.
“You are lovely tonight, Eden,” he whispered. My eyes found his then, irritating me that he wasted a sweet moment in a whisper.
“I know, you've told me at least ten times already,” I snapped. He flinched and I instantly regretted my outburst. As frustrated as I felt with my situation, I needed a reminder that I got myself into this mess. Kiran was actually behaving himself, and had gone out of his way to help make sure I didn't do anything that drew negative attention or Lucan's watchful eye. “I'm sorry,” I gave in and watched his stormy blue eyes fade into brilliant turquoise.
“You're sorry?” Kiran pressed, “For what?”
“For being short with you,” I conceded. “Thank you, I feel like a fraud.”
“Because you're here against your will?” Kiran's eyes searched mine for the truth, but I was reluctant to give it to him.
“No, that's not why. I don't think it would matter if I came here as a prisoner or really in love with you.... I mean, look at this place, it can't be real. And this dress? I'm not this girl. I don't think this girl exists anywhere except fairy tales and Disney movies,” I finished sincerely. Ileana's words ran through my head; it was time to choose to be Immortal. We both had our feet in two worlds, but unlike Ileana, I really was only Immortal, and it was time to come to terms with that.
“What girl?” Kiran asked, his brow furrowing with concern.
I paused as a dignified, elderly couple stopped dancing to pay us compliments on what a wonderful couple we were. When they moved on, I continued, “The girl from the middle of America that gets swept off her feet, and thrown into a fantasy where princes are real and she falls in love at a ball wearing a tiara. That girl doesn't exist, does she? I mean, this can't really be happening....” I trailed off, looking around at the magnificence of the room.
“That depends,” Kiran teased, “I didn't realize I had to make you fall in love with me tonight.... I might have done things differently if I had.”
“What would you have done differently?” Curiosity overcame common sense and I found myself asking the question before I could stop myself.
“Well, for starters, I wouldn't have promised my father we would stay until the end,” Kiran confessed, his eyes full of mischief.
“And what would we have done instead?” I pressed. His eyes held me in their hypnotic gaze, and the rest of the dancers twirling around us seemed to disappear.
“I would have made you forget that you are my prisoner, and convinced you that you are here because you want to be. Because I want you to be.” His lips twisted into a playful smile and he drew me closer to him, moving across the dance floor with a suave grace.
“That might have been hard to do,” I sighed, thankful for the reminder that I was his prisoner.
“You're probably right,” he conceded, but his eyes still twinkled and his lips still curved into his smirk. His tanned skin stood in smooth union with his crisp tux, complete with tails and a bow time. His hair slicked back and out of his face, and his golden crown tilted on the top of his head. I could feel the eyes of every girl in the room watching him, lusting after him. And for a second, I couldn’t blame them.
“Besides, you no more want to make me fall in love with you than I want to fall in love with you,” I reminded him.
“I don't know if that's true, this dress is doing funny things to my resolve,” he whispered seductively.
My mouth dropped open just a little bit from disbelief at the same time the music finished. We stood near the edge of the dance floor, and when other couples started to move from the floor, Kiran leaned down and kissed me sweetly, very sweetly..... too sweetly.... on the cheek. I closed my mouth, unable to think of anything to say and he took my arm and led me away from the dance floor.
Still bewildered, Kiran walked us to the far corner of the ballroom where dignitaries and old friends of the king milled about together in polite conversation. He seemed to be searching someone in particular out, so I took the silence to gather my senses and reinforce my own resolve that seemed to be faltering under the glamour of the evening.