Dancing on Strings

The Prince of Dreams

The boat bumped gently against the silvery dock and Mai stood up, setting a hand on the crystal railing and lifted her skirts to step out.

She was in bare feet.

She hadn't noticed.

She rarely walked around with bare feet – ballet had destroyed them years ago. Only Henrietta and Joliette saw them and that was between various slippers.

And yet... when she looked at them... those weren't the feet she was used to looking at.

They were her feet, they were the same size and shape and attached to her, but the skin was smooth and unflawed. The nails were neat and shone.

There was no scarring and marring. No thick or healing skin.

Well, that would prove she was dreaming if she hadn't already been aware of it.

Stepping out of the boat, she shook her skirts into place again and looked up at the starry palace before her.

It was beautiful, and impossible. The stonework looped and flowed around turrets and towers and walls. The white walls almost appeared to glow, soft and pleasant on the eyes.

Starlight showered down from the archway that made up the front door and when she walked towards it, it drifted aside in a gentle wind, allowing her access into a brilliant entrance hall.

The ceiling soared above her, twisting and sweeping until it formed a point, like an inverted peak of whipped cream.

The floors and walls were white. The furniture and carpet were gold.

Archways led off hall, leading to dozens of various rooms and corridors and ahead was a staircase, wide and welcoming, leading to a landing before splitting in two and winding away from each other, leading to balconies and more rooms – hidden rooms, one of which surely supplied the soft, pretty music that drifted through the air, reminding Mai of spring, or silk, or rose petals caught in a summer breeze.

Drifting forwards, she drew in line with two doors, one of either side, and looked to her left.

She blinked.

It led out to a balcony.

Flowers that glowed with moonlight spilt from pots and vines and crept around the stone bannisters, thick balustrade and pillars that didn't hold up a ceiling so moonlight illuminated everything.

A man sat out on the balcony, his feet on the balustrade, back against a pillar, knees bent up the support the book he was reading.

He wore white – almost blending into the background.

His curling blonde hair fell around his head in wild waves, a vivid splash of colour in the sea of white. His pale skin was translucent in the moonlight.

And he had brilliant blue eyes.

She only saw those for a second however when he happened to feel her stare and glance her way.

Then they went wide with surprise, he reeled and almost fell over the balcony.

Mai made to help, not that she could do anything from her distance, but he caught himself on the pillar, swung himself up and lightly off the balcony, steadying himself when his feet were back on solid ground.

"Sorry," Mai said quickly, feeling awful for disturbing his peace and the warm silence that filled the castle.

"No, no!" the man said quickly, straightening his clothing, "No, I'm sorry. I wasn't expecting visitors. I had no idea there was company due. Company due, I don't think there is company due. Who are you, by the way?"