Innocent Sorrow: A Tale of Twisted Hearts Book One

Chapter Three

I wonder if things would have been different if I had never met you… I wonder if you would have been free… I wonder if I would have been left in blissful ignorance…. I wonder if this war would have started if I hadn’t met you. Don’t ask me if I regret it…please don’t ask me that… just ask if I still think it is right. Ask if I will still fight for you… Ask me if I will serve you despite this.

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Feliks followed his mother and father out of the dining hall. They were followed by all the heads of the Noble families, every man, woman and next in line looking like they were the next in line for the crown and not just there for a birthday party. His father was dressed simply; as was Feliks but his mother…she was beautiful as always. Her loosely curling, ebony hair fell around her in glorious waves while the wondrous deep blue and pale silver of her outfit shone gloriously against her pale skin and deep sapphire eyes. Feliks was proud to be her child. Two guards pulled open heavy, decorated doors to reveal a long set of steps. At the bottom of these pearly white marble steps was a stunning Ball room complete with old chandelier and an orchestra all set up just for him. He followed swiftly, smiling at everything as though it were his first time seeing it. No matter how many times he saw such finery, it would stun him…

He walked over to the refreshment table and grabbed a glass of whatever they were offering, he knew there was nothing alcoholic for to order such one had to directly ask the numerous butlers who carried silver platters with said wine and desserts. He watched the dance floor, violet eyes instantly zeroing in on his parents who moved beautifully across the floor with such grace…you could tell they were royalty….you could tell they were in love. He listened as the music crested and fell away like the waves of the sea and it calmed him somehow…it made everything seem easy. It was…relaxing. “Feliks, dance with me!” That bell like voice…he looked up and smiled at his mother, taking in her flushed and happy expression. “What of Father?” She folded her arms over her chest and pouted. “He ditched me to chat with some of those old stuffy men. Dance with your poor mother and cheer her up.” Feliks shook his head. Sometimes his mother made it all too obvious that they were commoners yet Feliks wouldn’t have it any other way. Bowing to her lightly, he put his hand out. “May I have this dance, Madam?” His mother smiled brilliantly and curtsied to him. “You may.”

They walked hand in hand onto the dance floor. When the next song started, both Prince and Queen smiled giddily and stood arms-length apart, Feliks looking up into her blue eyes, Matilda staring gently down into his violet….and they began to dance. Slowly at first, a twirling sort of affair but when the music picked up they started to spin and twist, dancing around each other, spinning away and returning. Neither cared who was male and who was female, they just danced. People stopped to stare at them, some speaking rudely about the crude dance, calling it all sorts of harsh things but none could deny what they saw. No one there could claim they didn’t see the love between mother and child as they danced with one and other; the happiness that filled their steps and the joy with which they moved. It was three dances later that both mother and child felt taps on their shoulders. “May I cut in?” The deep voice of his father made Feliks smile and he handed his mother’s hand off. “You may!” He spoke breathlessly but loudly, happiness filling him with the exuberance of childhood. At a second tap on his shoulder, he turned to stare at a black as night dress jacket with silver buttons. His violet gaze traveled up to lock with obsidian depths that shocked him to the core though he didn’t know why. It wasn’t uncommon…it was normal and yet it shocked him, unnerved him in ways he had never felt before.

“May I have this dance, Prince?” The older boy’s voice was perfectly pitched to match his eighteen year old frame, neither to high with youth or too low with age. The man had long, chocolate colored hair that was tied loosely at the back, pitch black eyes that unnerved Feliks and tanned skin that showed he obviously wasn’t from Beldan. “W-what? I’m a boy!” He was more than a little vexed at the man’s words. How dare he treat Feliks like a girl! “I know. I know you are the Prince of this land but you dance so wonderfully, please share a dance with me.” The hand that reached for his was warm…so warm and he let it lead him onto the floor. He let this older boy move him like a puppet. The elder boy pulled him into a dance with little concern for Feliks’ complaints and Feliks found himself unable to pull away. The dance they shared was dark…bitter, like the taste of dark chocolate but it was tinged with an innocence only those who watched it could see. There was something dangerous though, something undeniably cruel and threatening about this unknown boy who led the prince along the floor. When the dance ended, Feliks found himself dazed in a way that reminded him of those odd feelings that remained after the visions he could never remember disappeared. The boy seemed unfazed though, instead, the teen looked almost angry yet it was a gentle sort of anger. It was the sort of anger one feels after they have made a mistake…