Glass

Looking for momentary escape, I dodged through the crowds and ascended the steps to where Emiliano was standing, watching over the event. I caught my breath, cheeks flushed. It took everything in me to not crumple to a heap on the floor.

"Your dancing appears to have improved, you highness." He observed. "Have you found a potential bride?"

I shook my head and choked on my own spit.

"I don't even think it's them who's the problem. I hate how I am around them. I'm a stuttering mess. Nobody makes me feel comfortable or even liked in the slightest. I feel like a fool."

"You're just nervous, your highness-"

"-I can't do anything about that!" My voice was breaking. "I'm scared, Emiliano."

His face softened. He hesitated to embrace me, but the watchful eyes of my father wouldn't allow for it.

"Andres," he whispered my name like it was a crime to do so, "I know you more than almost anyone, and I know that you are no fool. When I first met you, you were... well... practically mute. But I remember the day after I taught you about the world."

"You remember that?"

"Of course. I had never seen you so animated. You came in the day after demanding I tell you more. You asked questions. You made theories. You entertained the idea that there were fish out there made of stars and horses made of water. Some of your less outlandish theories even proved correct. There is nothing I can say that could quell your fears, but trust me when I say that curiosity is charming. Intelligence is charming. Confidence matters little to those who will learn to appreciate who you truly are."

He sighed, reminiscing about his own courtship with his wife. From what I remembered, she too was hopelessly shy, blushing when anyone did so much as meet her eye. She came in and out of the library often, sorting the shelves; hiding in the corner to read. It only then occurred to me that one day she had completely stopped coming…

If she could be loved despite her social anxieties, then why couldn't I?

I wasn't ready to give it another go. Not yet. The sea of bodies below us danced, heads searching around for me. I hid behind Emiliano like a child, ignoring the fact that I was taller than him.

Mother was somewhere in the crowd, conversing with another menage of nobles, subtly trying to look for me. Countess Del Flores could be seen from miles away, chasing after her daughter with an angered scorn as Laelia stifled her laughter. Princess Lorena, it appeared, had already left. As for the princess of Mariola, she appeared engaged in conversation with a young male noble. The remaining women were vying for royal attention, spinning and swishing their dresses.

Perhaps sitting it all out and missing my opportunity was the most cowardly thing I could have done at that moment.

Emiliano gave me a little push. No turning back now.

I gave him a final glance before gingerly returning to the overbearing crowd.

Again, I was on my own.

But then… everything paused.

Everything dimmed.

And little did I know it was because someone I had long awaited was standing at the door.

She was like no other in the room that night, and all those other faces melted away until I could have sworn we were the only two in the ballroom.

Her dress was a deep blue, not puffy or vibrantly patterned like anyone else's. It fell to her feet like a waterfall, the iridescent sheer layer atop the blue shining like silk below the chandelier's light. As she descended, the blue at her feet appeared closer to a sea green, hemmed with white lace that flowed down the stairs behind her. On her feet, a pair of glass-blown shoes, crafted meticulously with green and blue and beige.

Aware that everyone had stood still to observe her, the woman slowed down, grasping onto the golden railing in fear that she might fall and embarrass herself. I knew the feeling entirely.

As she reached the bottom step, we both took a sigh of relief. I hadn't known how long my arm had been extended for her hand, but the second I even knew I had done was the second she touched it. Blushing, we avoided each other's eyes, as though to deny the sudden spark we had felt as our hands touched.

"M-may I?" I stammered foolishly. "May I have... the honour... of this dance?"

At a closer distance, I noticed her shoulders were decorated with everything I'd never seen in person - pale peach seashells, silver pearls; sun-bleached sea stars. It was as though she knew exactly what I had been looking for, before I even knew it myself.

"Y-yes." She finally answered, her voice soft and smooth like light rain. At last, our eyes met.

My vision blurred.

As did her face.

Trying to blink away the anonymity was futile. Thinking my eyesight was somehow damaged by the beauty - like the consequences of staring into the Sun's light - I desperately looked at my parents. They now both stood on the balcony above, clear as day, prompting me to dance. I gulped hard. Perhaps it was just the nerves.

I led her into the center of the floor, now cleared out by all the dancers who previously whirled around me. It was me and her - the mystery woman, seeped in ocean blue. And for a moment - the brief moment between our halted feet and the music's returning melodies - it was as though I had found myself far from shore yet unafraid, waiting to know how far I could fall into the eternal depths.