The Last Dance
By: Crimson Fears

AN: Written for Creative Writing. We were to write to Cinderella and make it our own story. It's rushed, I know. Feel free to let me know any other flaw I have.
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As soon as his golden eyes fell upon her, he knew that this was the woman he wanted. The lights made her pallid skin apparent and the long, raven curls only added emphasis. Her dress stuck out amongst the colors of white and gold; it was black with a long white train. The way it draped across her, exposing her shoulders enticed him, beckoning him to speak with her.

She was lingering around the back of the ballroom, watching them all partake in the extravagant masquerade the king planned. The sight of all the beautiful people moving in sync with each other was simply breathtaking to her. It was then, however, she heard the obnoxious voice of Acantha.

In a moment of panic, the woman turned and started to flee from the area. She was certain she would be found out. Despite how fast she was moving, she stopped instantly when she felt a firm hand link around her arm. She turned to apprehend the person but stopped when she saw the mask of a white tiger. “Prince Amir,” she whispered.

The prince offered her a smile. “Lady Raven,” he bowed, placing a kiss against the back of her hand, “may I have the honor of this dance?” Gold met amber and the prince was inwardly praising the beauty held in her eyes.

Meekly, she glanced about. Thankfully she found that both her step-sisters and her step-mother had disappeared into the crowd. ‘With rich old men, no doubt,’ she mentally noted. Her amber gaze returned to his, a timid smile gracing her lips. “Of course you may, Great Tiger.”

The white tiger smiled, returning himself to full height before guiding the delicate woman to the balcony. “I hope you do not mind us moving outside. I never faired well with large amounts of people.”

“N-no, of course I don’t mind,” she stuttered. The prince only chuckled.

“You have no reason to be nervous. It is only a dance, after all.” To prove his point, he pulled her body close, planting his left hand on her hip while the other already had her slender hand in its grasp. When she placed her hand onto the man’s shoulder, he examined her eyes. This action caused her to blush, making the prince smile at her shy behavior.

They began to move to the soft remains of the orchestra in fluid motions. They spoke of nothing, instead surrendering to music and each other as they danced.

She could not help but feel overwhelmed by his presence; however, thanks to the prince’s wondrous aura, she felt her worries gradually slip away. She never wanted this moment to end; it was too surreal like a fairy tale. If that was so, this had to be her happy ending.

“Your name,” the blonde whispered into her ear, “what is it?”

“Celeste,” she murmured, leaning her head forward to rest against his shoulder. He did not protest, instead he welcomed it, pulling her small frame closer to his body after halting the moment to remove her mask.

“Celeste,” he echoed. “I like that. It’s beautiful, much like its owner.”

“You shouldn’t flatter me so, prince,” she said detachedly, her amber eyes sliding shut.

“And why is that?” Amir questioned, pulling her head up. “Look at me, Celeste.” She obeyed him, her eyes parting, and exposing fear. Perhaps she had done something wrong. “I am allowed to say what I will. I am a prince, after all. You should believe me and at the same time think higher of yourself.”

Celeste shook her head, not understanding him. “But prince-“

“Just call me Amir.”

“But Amir,” she protested, “I am of the Draconian race. You... should hate me. It has always been that way between our races.”

“Did you think I did not notice?” The prince’s hand reached up to remove his mask to which he dropped onto the floor, not minding the shattering it caused. “Your skin is flawless; near virgin white. Ours,” he looked down at his hands, “is tainted; forever a bronze color. To me, your race is superior to us Felis.” He gently began to stroke her cheek in a soothing manner as he watched the tears form in her viper-like eyes.

“I apologize,” emitted her soft voice, “I am not used to such treatment.”

Amir’s head cocked ever so gently to the side, eyes becoming narrowed in confusion as if urging her to continue.

“I... just... I can’t tell you,” she whispered.

“Regardless,” the prince said softly, caressing her cheek lovingly before twining his fingers in her curls, “would you be willing to become my bride?” He smiled at the blush that appeared on the woman’s face, taking note of the faint trace of a smile on her crimson painted lips.

“Prince, I...” The chiming of the clock tower interrupted her words, and she halted in speaking. The chimes sounded; ten, eleven, twelve... Suddenly, her eyes grew wide. “I’m sorry!” Celeste cried out, pulling herself away from his hold. Prince Amir could do nothing but stare on in surprise as he watched her quickly run away.

“Celeste! Celeste!” She heard his cries and wanted to go back to him. Regardless of her wishes and how much she longed to be with the handsome prince, she could not. ‘I’m so sorry, Amir,’ she whispered in her mind. As she ran frantically through the masquerade, her dress gradually was turning back into the ragged burlap she had been forced to wear.

“It’s a Draconian! Quickly, kill her!”

“No! Halt in your actions now!” It was a hysterical order from the prince in pursuit. Instead of obeying, a guard roughly seized the blonde from behind, holding him in place as two others followed after Celeste.

“Prince Amir, you cannot override your father’s orders.”

“Unhand me!” he screamed, frantically wriggling to attempt escape from the man’s arms. “I must go to her!”

“Prince, you lose face!” the guard argued. “Get a hold of yourself!”

Amir could still see them; they had his lover cornered. “Celeste!” he screamed again, ignoring the gossiping witnesses and the guard’s words. “Celeste!” Hope swelled in his chest as the amber gaze met his but it was soon squandered. All he could see was the mouthed ‘I’m sorry’ before shots were heard.

A strangled cry ripped from the prince’s lips, the tears in his eyes falling as he saw his lover collapse. “Celeste!” he called, frantic to reach her. Ripping himself from the guard’s grip after a final struggle against him, Amir quickly went to her side. As he gathered her body into his arms, he could not help but shake his head; this had to be a bad dream.

“Amir,” she smiled weakly, the best she could manage in her dying stature, “I’m… so happy to see you… again.” The prince’s hand laced about hers as she brought it up to rest against his cheek. “Thank you… for everything.”

“Hush now,” he whispered, brushing the stay locks from her face. He held a faulty smile as he quickly looked at the damage that had been dealt; two clean shots to her chest. She would not last much longer, he knew.

“I... want to... marry you,” she continued, “I just... can’t.” Her eyes gradually became unfocused, causing the prince to look back at her.

“We can still be together, Celeste,” he murmured, choking back the sob in his throat. “We will be together.”

A smile found its way to her lips. “That... would be wonderful. We... can be... to...gether.” With the last of her breath raped from her lungs, Celeste was dead.

“Celeste,” the prince cried hysterically, hugging the deceased body to his chest, “I love you!”

A man, no younger than 45, stood before the prince. The youth did not acknowledge him, but the man held a look of disgust on his face. This pathetic heap crying over a Draconian; he would not claim him as his son. With a glance to the guards hovering over the couple, the king gave a nod.

There was no warning. Two precise shots sounded out and the prince collapsed on his lover, coughing up his red life. “This is no son of mine; dispose of their bodies at once.” As the king spat on them and turned around, Amir’s hand gave once last squeeze to Celeste’s before his heart finally gave out.

Both sets of eyes stared forth, perceiving nothing in their deceased state.