Lesson 39: Sometimes Love Doesn't Need a Glass Slipper

The seamstress stepped aside so Grielle could see her new gown in the full-length mirror. A girl who looked like she could be mistaken for a princess stared back at her. Grielle ran her hands over the layers of stiff, pale pink satin, letting her fingers dance and slide over the pearlescent fabric. She twisted her hips and listened to the rush of the skirt sway around her. It was a dress fit for royalty — she just didn't feel royal herself.

"Can I see you now?" Benedikt called from behind the dressing screen where Grielle had banished him while the seamstress fitted her into the gown.

"Yes," she called over her shoulder.

Benedikt's head appeared from behind the screen and then the rest of him followed. His eyes raked over Grielle with an appreciative gaze that made her cheeks flush.

"Well?" she said, spinning for him.

"Marvelous," Benedikt replied, sweeping her into his arms.

"Now if I could only find a pair of pants to wear until the ball..." Grielle mused. "Your mother seems to have stocked my bureau with only dresses and skirts."

"I'll have some of the outfits our female warriors wear for training sent to your room straight away," Benedikt said, stepping back behind the screen so the seamstress could unpin Grielle from the gown.

Grielle shivered as she stepped from the gown and the cold mountain air that seeped through the castle walls hit her skin. She pulled her plain, cream-colored gown over her head with haste and tied the stays around her waist. She then threw the fur-lined cloak over her shoulders and knotted its satin ribbon at her throat. "I will say, I'm a fan of all the furs you Stalvarts wear."

Benedikt laughed nervously as he stepped out from behind the screen. "Come on. We have a banquet to get to."

~

The banquet hall hummed with excitement for the impending feast, and Grielle couldn't decide where to look first. Row after row of tables filled the room, each full of courtiers, Benedikt's possible True Loves in all their finery. On the dais, King Sander and Queen Ylva sat at their own table. Tall, tapered candles lined the hall, filling the echoing room with a warm, flickering glow. Space had been left at the foot of the dais to make room for a small ensemble of musicians to fill the air with music and the time after dinner with dancing.

Grielle held Benedikt's arm a little tighter as her head started to swim. She could see the single empty chair beside his father waiting for him and knew she wouldn't be able to stay at his side. He had duties to attend to. She knew that, but they had scarcely gotten the chance to be alone together.

He'd released her before they stopped at the door to the hall.

"I can't go in with you," he said turning to give Grielle a polite bow for the courtiers' and princesses' sake, but something stopped him.

Grielle realized her face must have looked miserable, so she quickly glanced at her feet to hide her frown.

"What's the matter?"

"Nothing," Grielle said as she tried to put on a reassuring smile. "I just — I've never been in love like this before, and it's something new and amazingly wonderful and I want what's happening to be between you and me. I know it's selfish and I know you have to think about the political ramifications of the princess problem you have on your hands, but I want to have you to myself even for just a moment. I'm sorry."

Benedikt pulled her back into the corridor outside the banquet hall. "Please don't apologize for feeling that way! Don't ever apologize for how you feel! Especially when I feel the exact same way. Every time I'm with you, I wish we were the only people on this earth. I hate all the political games I have to play, the court politics and rules of decorum, but you are my bright spot. You are what has gotten me through everything that has happened. I don't think I ever believed I would get my Happily Ever After until I met you," Benedikt said as he pulled her into his arms.

A smile slipped onto her lips. "Really?"

"Of course! If you can make it through one banquet, we can take a walk after. Just you and me. Does that sound like a fair trade?"

Grielle nodded, though it wasn't really the thought of the banquet that bothered her. It was the dozens of more suitable matches for Benedikt, that waited in the hall to pounce on him if they got the chance.

But she pushed the thought aside. Benedikt was hers and they would all have to go through her to get to him.

~

After kissing Grielle with as much fervor as he could manage without messing up their ensembles, Benedikt headed into the banquet thirty seconds ahead of her. He passed the rows of tables and with a polite smile, nodding to the familiar faces among the crowd. As his father had instructed him, he shook hands with all present council members before he took his assigned place on the dais.

"Is all well?" King Sander asked.

Benedikt swallowed the lump in his throat. His talk with Grielle had been their most honest conversation in days, but she still had the skittish look in her eyes of a yearling doe. "Yes, fine," he replied.

He watched Grielle join Moose, Ludvig, and Reyn at a long table among the courtiers. After a brief welcome from King Sander, the guests began to tuck into the food. Benedikt wished he could be sitting down with them. As Ludvig tipped his head back to laugh at something Benedikt couldn't hear, he imagined Moose had remarked on the kitchen's overuse of garlic.

Instead, he was stuck at his father's side and had to eat while avoiding the gazes of eager princesses looking to catch his eye prior to the ball. Henrik had been right in one regard: Benedikt's quest for True Love's Kiss had made him a bit of sensation throughout the young women of the realm. On several occasions, groups of them had accosted him in the corridors of the castle. He'd excused himself politely for some pressing and completely fictional appointment, all while trying not to hurt their feelings.

The tall, dark-haired princess had a talent for finding him whenever he was alone. She had quickly learned his route to the barracks where he trained each morning with the other swordsmen and women. Benedikt began to take Grielle and Ludvig along with him. This seemed to thwart her attempts at trapping him in a romantic interlude.

The band of players started up a rousing tune once the feasting began. Benedikt ate quickly, gulping down great bites so he wouldn't have to stay for dancing.

"You'll make yourself sick if you keep eating like that," his mother admonished gently.

Benedikt didn't heed her warning and finished his plate in a matter of minutes. Before his father could command him to mingle and dance with the courtiers, he stood abruptly and dashed down the steps of the dais. He passed row after row of turning heads until he came to reach Grielle's table. He would get in serious trouble for leaving the banquet with her so conspicuously but he didn't care.

"Ready for that walk?" he whispered in her ear.

Grielle jumped at his voice. "Ben! I've barely started to eat."

"Come on," he urged, pulling her up from her seat.

Grielle laughed and stood. She hooked her arm through Benedikt's and before anyone could stop them, they walked purposefully out of the hall and into the corridor.

"That was the shortest banquet I've ever been to," Grielle chuckled as Benedikt guided her through the castle.

"Really? It felt like hours away from you."

Without any real destination in mind, they walked arm in arm through torch-lined corridors. Moonlight streamed through the windows and Benedikt stopped in a swath of glowing light.

"Everything will be right once the world knows that I am yours and you are mine," Benedikt said with a kiss to Grielle's knuckles.

"Rightly so," she said with eyes turned to the city spread out in the moonlight below. "I have yet to truly enjoy being here in such a beautiful city. In your castle of all places."

An idea dawned on Benedikt. "Follow me. I have something to show you," he said.

He pulled Grielle into a stairwell and up a steep, winding staircase. They emerged at the top landing, gasping for breath. The stairs opened to the middle of a semicircular room. On the one flat wall stood a wooden door. Opposite the door, the curved wall held a large, arched window.

Benedikt watched as Grielle eyed the paned glass with a wary glance.

"How high up are we?" she asked, reaching out to grab Benedikt's arm for support.

"Right," he said, cursing himself for forgetting her fear of heights. "Not that high," he said, wrapping a protective arm around her waist. He hesitated to mention he had taken her to the highest part of the castle. "Do you want to see the city? This window has the best view."

Grielle paused. She nodded and without releasing her vice grip on his arm, they stepped up to the window.

Benedikt flipped open the latch and pulled the two glass panes open.

The wind whipped and snapped at this height and he had to hold Grielle to keep himself steady. Below, the crooked streets of the city zigzagged down towards the harbor. They both fell silent at the sight of thousands of golden windows flickering beneath a wide, star-filled sky.

Grielle sighed. "It's beautiful."

"I know," Benedikt said, resting his chin on Grielle's shoulder. He secretly wished he were tall enough to rest it on her head.

They didn't linger long in the cold before they stepped away from the window.

"What's in there?" Grielle asked. She pointed to the door.

"Oh," Benedikt smiled, feeling his cheeks blush.

"What is it?" she asked again, a wry smile spreading over her face at his discomfort.

He coughed nervously. "It's a bedchamber...for royal wedding nights."

"Ohhh." Grielle stifled a giggle. "Have you ever been inside?" she asked, crossing toward the door.

"No," Benedikt replied, chasing after her. "But...I don't want to. Not yet."

"Why not?"

Grielle turned to slide her hands over Benedikt's shoulders. She brought her lips to his. Benedikt's fingers tingled with a peculiar warmth as he placed them on Grielle's hips.

"Because," he said, trying to collect his thoughts. "If you and I are alone in there... as a prince, I can't indulge myself in that way until I'm married."

"I understand," Grielle replied, her lips pressed into a smile.

Benedikt shifted nervously on his feet. "Have you ever..."

She laughed breathily. "No, I haven't. I haven't wanted to until you."

Benedikt felt immediately relieved. "Me neither. But with all the quests I've been on, I've dreamed about finding my bride more than I'd care to admit. The entire kingdom of Stalvart puts out all their lights on the night of a royal wedding. Then, when the prince or princess and their betrothed reach the tower, they all light a candle and put it in the window. Everyone in the city does the same, placing a candle in their window to guide the royals through their first night of marriage."

"That sounds amazing."

"From what I hear it's quite magical. I've dreamed about sharing that moment with my True Love since I first set out to find her."

"Your True Love." The smile fell from Grielle's face.

"I want to share it with you now, of course," Benedikt corrected.

"Of course..." Grielle replied, but her smile didn't return.

She slipped away from his grasp, and Benedikt's stomach lurched. "You know you're my True Love, don't you? I know for a fact there's no one else I should be with." He caught Grielle around the waist and kissed her frown.

"Even without True Love's Kiss? Or a glass slipper?" she said.

"Yes! Why would you ask such a thing?"

Grielle shook her head as if to clear it. "Sorry. It was a silly question. I've been so tired these past days, I'm not thinking straight."

They descended the staircase and headed to the guest chambers in a more somber mood than Benedikt had planned for their evening. As he kissed Grielle goodnight and left her at her chamber door, he couldn't help but feel a pang of unease. They just had to make it through the masquerade, then they would have their Happily Ever After. It had seemed simple enough in theory until tonight when it suddenly seemed so much more complicated. With or without True Love's Kiss, he knew he was meant to be with Grielle...but did she know it too?