A Ballerina's Secret

It was a dull night at the castle, nothing exciting ever happens in France. Nothing he can know about any way. How, he thought, was he suppose to rule if they didn't let him hear the problems of his own country in facing? His parents left for the meeting only a quarter of an hour ago. They shall not be back for many hours to come.
The young prince started to convince himself to leave the castle, the guards wouldn't care at all. Less time used for watching a teenage prince and more time to spend with the serving wenches or to find a drink somewhere. They would encourage him to go; tell him he earned some free time off. Rationally thinking of course, it wouldn't hurt to go out for a bit. Go to the park, maybe go to the theater to see the ballet. Maybe chat with a ballerina for a bit. No harm in that.
He felt the smile on hi face grow, I deserved some free time. Most people of France have now seen him. He was not one for public viewings or paintings. In terms of a prince, he was a modest one. Though he was rather self-centered at most times. But he was a prince, that is what most princes are. He left the castle, waiting to see the streets of Paris, hoping for a ball or a street fair to be occurring. He felt disappointed to know the night he sneaks away was a rather plain night in France. It seems there was nothing to do on the streets.
Walking past the park, which gate was closed. Such a shame, he thought. The park is rather beautiful while the sun would set. The water feature of the lake was rather beautiful. It made girls go into a mushy romantic mood. Which could be useful, if he so desired it to be so. The breeze through the trees made it just a soft kiss against your skin that was just enough to make someone want to get closer to you. It could be magical with the right person by your side.
The prince was never one for romance, if he truly liked a girl he felt awkward and shy around her. Not knowing what to do and fumbling over words and nervously laughing at nothing. It was quite sad in cases. He once fancied a girl so much he bumbled and let it slip he was the prince. He never wanted girls to fancy him because of his crown. Or he power and money. He wanted them to fancy him for him. For the fool he was whenever he was around them. One cannot settle for a lady, even though that is not most cases. A pretty face is what most men will try to woo.
It was half past 4, on a winter night such as this, the sky grew dark very fast. The lights started to glow softly, he walked for a half hour. Finally he saw what he hope would bring him some joy: the theater. Where ballets were preformed. The dancers moving gracefully and the singers with sweet voices let their words caress people. A secret joy he had only told his mother, who loved the theater almost as much as himself. The door was open, but there was no show for this boring night. A night that could use a little beauty. A little joy for a lonesome prince in need of a way to distract himself.
Entering the theater, he had realized: he was not alone. There was a practice going on, but most had left before he had come. He walked down the aisle. Taking the front row seat, one that was never meant for a prince to sit in. HE felt like he was scumming it down for this night. Something that it was both revolting, but yet liberating in a way he could not explain. He was a spoiled person as most princes are. But his heart was kind, just misunderstood at times. There were a few dancers left, one had caught his interest for the moment he saw her leap as he entered. she was such a graceful dancer, her feet touched the ground. They were light while touching the ground. Most dancers leaped forward then dropped and it was just the girl in the center who had also dropped rising. She suddenly struck a pose and held it, on foot in the air in a straight line. She looked into the what she thought were empty seats. She locked eyes with the stranger in the front. His eyes warm yet cold in a way. They were inviting but still, they held a fence that kept you out. She did 4 pirouettes in a row then a pirouette en dehor. She leaped forward and did moves that were so unrecognizable to the prince. He had never seen such moves. Suddenly 2 of the male dancers rose. She turned to one and he put a hand on her waist, which angered the prince. Taking her wrist in his other hand they circled not once, but three times. He then released her and she leaped to the other. He picked her up, she was very light. It was easy even for a weak simpleton. He threw her in the air, she twirled and she started to fall. She looked at the ground in fear. It looked as if no one would catch her. At the last moment, one of the fallen dancers caught her. It seemed that part of the dance had not yet been perfected. She sighed in relief, the fear of falling was a terrible fear she had. It was dangerous for her to take this job because of it. This play was experimenting with throwing the performers in the air. she had accepted the lead not knowing of the tossing that would occur.
She thanked the dancer who caught her and looked to the two men that were suppose to. They seemed as scared as she was. Each thinking the other would catch her. The first man, his name was Robert was suppose to catch her. Then the other dancer, Olivier, was then suppose to take her and they would do a dance that only true lovers would know. Then the curtain would fall and the next scene would be played. The prince walked to the stage and looked at the young dancer. Surely, he though, she is no older than I. Walking to the end of the stage, sitting on the edge she was now next to him. And they both could see each other clearly.
The prince knew he was a handsome. He prided himself on that fact. He had a skin that could tan nicely, but he did not like being so tan. His eyes were grey when you looked from a distance, but if you stared deeply and looked closely, you could see the paleness of blue. With black hair that was starting to hang in his eyes, but not enough to hide any of his eyes.
She knew it was rude to be looking at a stranger in such a way, but most women had started to look at men in the way she was looking at him. As she questioned if he was watching her in the same way, he was thinking of how it would feel o hold her close to him. She had a beautiful heart-shaped face with big emerald green eyes that held an innocence that was almost child like but also a maturity that most young ladies lacked. Her skin was a cream color and glowed under the few stage lights that were still on. Her hair was a pale pink looking, but it was really the palest strawberry blond anyone could imagine. Her bangs covered her forehead but not in a straight line. It was as if her hair had naturally grew and was starting to get in her field of vision but not quite yet. Neither dared to say anything yet, not sure how to speak to one another.
"Berangaria" one of the dancers, the one who had caught her, had called, his voice seemed protective. Like an older brother or father would have. "We will be leaving shortly. Do not take long." She nodded to him, offering a small smile. She had never had secret feelings towards Edward, who was ow like a brother to her. They had been living together for a year, yet nothing had happened so she believed he did not harbor secret feelings either. He was a rather attractive lad that she had to admit whenever someone had asked her. He had deep chocolate brown eyes that sparkled when he laughed. Lightly browned colored skin, he had been spending many hours practicing outside that had given him an even tan, and black hair that was short and recently cut. He left slowly, watching the stranger. He never trusted anyone with his Berangaria, he had first met her a little over a year ago. They had both been chosen for parts in a ballet. After that he knew she needed someone to protect her, he felt she was too naive and innocent. While he was stern and more experienced with the real world.
The prince had felt the man's unease with leaving him alone with, who he now assumed was Berangaria. He looked at her, the name was an old french, not used much anymore. In fact this was the first he heard of someone with it, so old he had forgotten it's meaning, it fit her though. In a strange way, she seemed like a Berangaria.
"You are Berangaria I assume" he asked, breaking the silence. She was delightfully surprised by his voice, she had thought he would never speak and she would need to speak first. Which she was not every good at, she was a shy girl that spoke quietly and not very often.
"I am" she said, her voice having a larger affect on him than she thought. Though he hid it, her voice made his voice skip a beat and made his mind spin. A heavenly voice that most lady's would never have. "May I now who I am speaking with?"
"My name is Dean" he said, she thought this over. She had not assumed his name be so average. She had me many Deans before, none that were this attractive to her.
"it is a pleasure to meet to Dean" she said, still thinking over his name. She liked when names fit the person they belonged to, his name did not fit his character as far as she knew. But there was still time for him to become a 'Dean'.
"You are a wonderful dancer" he said, looking her over again. Thinking of dancing with her, holding her close. "Where have you studied?"
"I taught myself mostly" she said, starting to tense. Never liking to speak of her past, even Edward did not know where she was from or who her parents were. He didn't even know her last name. "I have always had a love for ballet."
"I can tell" Dean said, the way she moved had said volumes of her love. She knew she was an excellent dancer and was proud of it. Only when she was thrown in the air did it show she was unsure and scared. "Is the ballet anytime soon?"
"No" she sated simply, causing the young prince to look at her strangely, in a confused way. "The ballet won't be until a month" she continued. He nodded, saddened that it would take so long for the ballet to be ready. "We will be practicing here every night until opening day." At this he perked up, a hope bubbling in his chest.
"Might I be able to see you again" he asked, trying to hide his desperation and hope of seeing her again. She lowered herself off the stage and started walking to the doors where Edward was waiting.
"I would not mind you coming again" she said over her shoulder. Sending a smile that drove Dean wild, it was devilish yet innocent in ways that made no sense. "I look forward to your next visit." With that she was at the door, which Edward held for her. His scowl deepened when her back was turned from Dean. Then they were gone, and the prince was now next to the stage with only a few lingering dancers on the stage. Pretending that they weren't watching him and Berangaria. He knew hat tomorrow night, he would be here again. Watching Berangaria dance.