Lesson 43: True Love Finds a Way

Benedikt's heart skittered in his chest, somersaulting and sputtering as he tripped to a stop. The dancers moved to avoid him as he searched the masked faces for Grielle. Then his eyes fell on the pearl-pink gown and the room seemed to slow. His legs felt heavy and all the sounds of the masquerade seemed to fall away. Grielle's eyes met his and Benedikt's heart filled near to bursting. He crossed the dance floor, too terrified to take his eyes from the look of panic on her face. One glance away and he feared she would disappear in the blink of an eye.

He stopped in front of her and tried to find the words to say. Her eyes were glistening and her lips were bitten red. Her distress was written clearly upon her face. He'd hoped she would arrive in better spirits, but perhaps this was the goodbye Reyn had promised him.

A smile flicked over Grielle's lips. "I never should have left," she croaked out.

Benedikt didn't wait to hear more. He lunged forward and wrapped his arms around her.

"All that matters is that you are here now," he whispered into her ear.

Grielle sank into him, her body warming him through his dress uniform. Something fluttered in his chest as the smell of Grielle's distinct lavender soap filled his nose — a haunting, familiar scent he would remember all his life.

"I'm so sorry," she said into his shoulder.

"No, I'm sorry," Benedikt said, drawing back so he could look into her eyes.

People watched their peculiar reunion with rapt attention, but Benedikt could have been in an empty room for all he cared. He took in everything about Grielle: the little braids in her hair, the blue eyes shining, the flush of her cheeks. Never had he felt such joy in his entire life.

"Ben, there's something important I have to tell you," Grielle said.

The look of worry on her brow broke him from his reverie. "What's the matter?"

Before Grielle could answer, Queen Ylva appeared from the crowd of guests, a demure smile on her face. "You're here, Lady Grielle! And just in time for the last dance of the night." She winked at her son.

Benedikt felt his knees buckle as he turned to Grielle with a hopeful grin. This dance meant everything, and he felt all the weight of it on his shoulders. "If you agree to dance this last dance with me, then it means that I have chosen you as my bride for all my kingdom and our allies to see. Are you ready to take a step like that?" he asked. His breath stopped as he waited with desperate hope for her answer.

"Yes, but there is—" she said, casting a nervous look over her shoulder.

"But nothing," he said. "Do you love me as I love you?"

Grielle's hand reached out and grabbed his sleeve, sending his heartbeats tripping over each other in clumsy succession.

"Yes!" she exclaimed.

"Then, please, dance with me?"

He heard a gentleness in his voice that he hadn't ever let himself express before. He was completely exposed, vulnerable. The entire ensemble of guests had stopped their conversations. Girls craned their necks to see who had captured the prince's attention in the moments before midnight. The orchestra waited silently, and the center of the ballroom emptied of dancers.

"I will," Grielle said taking his hand.

On Queen Ylva's cue, the orchestra started to play and Benedikt and Grielle took their spots on the empty dance floor. Benedikt placed a hand on Grielle's waist and guided her in a circle before the court. He turned and framed his arms so they could begin the dance, but Grielle still looked unnerved.

She took his hand in hers and began to sway to the music. "Ben, you are in danger," she whispered in his ear.

Benedikt stumbled over the steps to the dance. It wasn't what he had expected to hear dancing with his future bride. "W-what?" he stammered.

"We were thrown in the dungeon when we arrived earlier tonight," she whispered hurriedly.

"By whom?"

Benedikt's mind reeled. Who would have thrown a guest into the dungeons without his father's permission? And more importantly, why?

"Bravo!" A deep, singular voice rang out through the ballroom to draw his attention from Grielle. A guard walked toward them. He clapped his hands together as he walked, grinning from ear to ear. The crowd parted to let him through.

"Bravo," he said again.

It took Benedikt only a moment to recognize the Pirate King, Captain De Soto, but the rest of the court watched with bewildered stares.

The Pirate King addressed Grielle. "I underestimated you. I thought it would have taken you longer to escape the dungeons."

Her lips pulled up into a snarl. "You stay back," she growled.

"You picked a feisty one, Prince," De Soto said, turning to Benedikt. "But still, I don't appreciate being made a fool of by you and your friends — no matter their mettle."

He drew a long sword from the scabbard at his side.

"You came alone. That was a mistake." Benedikt drew his own sword. "Guards! Arrest this imposter!"

Captain De Soto tilted his head back and loosed a laugh that echoed off the marble walls. "I am not alone."

"He's right," Grielle said, drawing a blade from the bodice of her gown. "His pirates have infiltrated the palace guard."

Benedikt would have smiled at the fact that Grielle had come to the ball armed. He would have kissed her if they weren't in immediate danger. Then he remembered the grizzled servant holding the tray of hors d'oeuvres. "Not just the guards."

Disheveled-looking guards, along with the more bedraggled of the servants that lined the walls of the ballroom, now drew hidden blades and rushed to De Soto's side. The remaining loyal guards, momentarily befuddled by the surprise attack, crashed through the crowd to protect the king and queen while the remaining Liberators emerged from the gathering of guests to protect Benedikt and Grielle.

Moose brandished a silver soup ladle and serving tray, Ludvig a table leg, and Reyn a pair of butter knives. The flatware would have seemed silly in anyone else's hands, but Benedikt didn't want to know what kind of damage Reyn could inflict with them.

"Incapacitate the others. The prince is mine," De Soto ordered, and his pack of sea dogs leaped into action.

Grielle placed herself at Benedikt's back while he faced off with De Soto himself.

The Pirate King was good with a blade, but Benedikt knew that with Grielle at his back, he could give the scurvy-riddled captain his full attention. They moved in a dance Benedikt knew better than any promenade. His feet crossed, stepped, and lunged in time to the music of blades crashing into each other. He faced Captain De Soto with a confident smirk.

Moose took out pirates left and right with the severely dented serving platter, while other guards joined in the fight, realizing Benedikt was the target.

Benedikt blocked a series of De Soto's heavy blows, but he quickly realized he was outmatched. De Soto was a full head and shoulders taller than him, and Benedikt only had a dress sword for his weapon. He briefly looked to the guards trying to make their way through the frenzy of panicked guests and the circle of pirates that stood between them and De Soto.

His momentary glance away from his opponent cost him.

De Soto brought his blade down hard and fast. Benedikt didn't have time to knock the blow away. He turned his head to escape most of the blow, but the tip of De Soto's sword grazed his cheek and trailed over his jaw.

Benedikt gave a wounded cry as the blade split his skin, sending a sharp, hot pain over the right side of his face.

On instinct, his hand flew to his jaw to staunch the flow of blood. He knew he was vulnerable, but De Soto didn't deliver the fatal blow — even when he could. Instead, the Pirate King sheathed his blade with a look of satisfaction on his face. The other sounds of fighting died away.

Why had they stopped?

"Ben?" Grielle exclaimed, turning to see why the fracas had petered out.

"Just a scratch—" Benedikt started to say, but the room began to swim before his eyes.

His limbs felt leaden and clumsy. He tried to find Grielle's face in the blur of his vision, but he couldn't keep his eyes open. Something deep within his chest had its hooks in him, drawing him into welcoming darkness. He felt impossibly tired, but some part of him knew he had to keep his eyes open. He tried to call Grielle's name, but if he did, he couldn't hear it.

He was falling into nothingness, and darkness closed in on the edges of his vision. He wanted the darkness. His body yearned to succumb to it, but his mind clung to the blurry reality he could feel slipping away.

"No!" he yelled soundlessly. He felt the will of his body give way, and his vision slipped into complete, total, and all-inviting blackness.