I waited nervously, praying to the Sun that mother would change her mind and stop the guards from opening the gates. Maybe now, of all times, a strike of paranoia from my father would be a good thing - an irrational panic that these women could be out to kill me and take my fortune, and thus he would have the entire function called off for my safety.

But I was never so lucky.

Just tonight, I thought, then I can be free of this place.

Of course, that would require me finding a bride. That night, I would have had to make a commitment I could not take back, and I was not in the right mindset to do it.

Mother had adorned me in a piece once owned by my father. It was an embellished waistcoat of indigo and gold, jacketed atop a black shirt with a stifling collar. My shoes were sleek and pointed - tailored specifically for dance - and were heeled with a gold plate. Emiliano insisted I was "simply dashing" - which wasn't much comfort given Emiliano was dressed head to toe in a bottle green coat inappropriate for the sweltering heat. Mother and father also repeated the notion, but I refused to look into any mirrors as I feared it would make me feel worse. Father took it upon himself to brush and slick my inky hair back, growing increasingly frustrated at the few strands that refused to go down and flopped back in front of my face. He had been sweating and quaking all day, and I could think of plenty of reasons for it. I was shaking too.

I waited in the ballroom, freshly dusted and polished after years of little use. It looked brand new to me; a giant chandelier glimmering down on the ivory marble below, each candle atop it shining through glass shards and hitting every corner of the room with light. Torches were ignited on the ascending pillars that edged the stairs, their heat much more welcoming in winter months than they were then. Their smoke rippled into the sky, getting lost on its way to the colossal ceilings, painted in white and gold. Three tiers of balconies watched over the ballroom floor, and my father appeared at the highest one to observe my inevitable discomfort and embarrassment. Mother and her guards eagerly waited at the grand doors - doors I never before knew were painted crimson on the outside.

One minute to the hour.

My heart was in my throat.

Thirty seconds.

Why was time moving so fast?

Twenty seconds.

I looked at my father.

Ten seconds.

Is it too late to run?

Zero.

The band played.

The doors groaned open.

And I was stood in the centre of a loud, echoing cavern, soon to be flooded with waves of strangers.

My feet were planted in the ground, my body stiff. One by one, Emiliano at the door announced the various names of seemingly every woman in the world, until the once-endless ballroom was cramped with people. Overwhelmed, I looked around, unsure of who to approach first. Before I could make a decision, it already seemed women were wanting to approach me first. My lessons in traditional etiquette did not prepare me for that.

"Your highness!"

A fair-skinned woman curtsied enthusiastically.

I had already forgotten what Emiliano read her name as.

I smiled nervously and bowed in return. At least she seemed excited to see me.

"May I have this dance?" She took my hand before I could even answer.

The trumpets blared as she twirled around me, swinging me from side to side with her arms. I shuffled about awkwardly, every dance I'd ever learnt completely lost to time. The other women around her appeared angered at something, and tried to steal me away.

"Your highness, my name is-"

I was swung into somebody else.

"-Prince Charming, it's an honour to-"

And another.

"-I saw him first!"

And yet another.

"-Your majesty, I-"

A clap like thunder interrupted everything. The whole ball stared up at my father, no longer used to much attention, but just as brave as he once had been.

"Greetings to all of you, and welcome to Mendessa Palace. Tonight is an occasion I and my wife, your Queen, have long awaited. Tonight, my son, Prince Andres II of Mendessa, will select a bride to wed."

Father gestured and gave me a glance, and all of a sudden, anyone who wouldn't have recognised me otherwise knew exactly who I was. A thousand eyes peered in my direction. Goodness knows what they must have been thinking.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

"It is with great honour that we open our palace doors again. The last time we had done so was a long decade and a half ago."

Various older nobles and their wives nodded in remembrance. I remembered too, but only vaguely. He'd hosted a ball for a select few nobles. I'd been advised to stay away, but I snuck in just long enough to admire the elaborate masquerade costumes; the vibrant masks. It was then where I had been caught by a guard and sent back to my room, where I was then guarded for the entire night, hearing the gentle beats of the music beneath the floorboards, wishing to hear the full tune.

"By all means, enjoy yourselves. But I first have a few ground rules."

Even mother rolled her eyes.

"First and foremost, anywhere outside of the ballroom or its connected lavatories is out of bounds. Secondly, anyone who wishes harm upon anyone else will be immediately removed from the premises."

The girls fighting over me before exchanged harsh glances.

"Thirdly, a wealth of beverages will be available to you throughout the night. But anyone deemed too intoxicated will be viewed as a danger to themselves and others and therefore will also be immediately removed from the premises. Furthermore, every lady in the running to meet the prince must do so in an orderly fashion. As previously stated, any fighting will not be tolerated."

At that point, I and many others had completely zoned out. Father continued his terms for what seemed like hours.

"And eleventh but not least, all donations to the Mendessa gardening fund will be collected throughout the night. We encourage you to donate. Now that is all said, please enjoy your night!"

The band nodded awake and began to play again. In unison, a circle of women twirled their skirts, revealing their vibrant layers. Overwhelmed by the noise and the heat and the people, I stood frozen, trying to catch my breath as if I'd been dancing the entire time.

I jumped as something tapped my shoulder. I jolted around.

"Your highness." A smaller woman was curtsying to me, spreading out the violet frills of her dress. She looked up at me, her teeth bared into a smile. "I am Princess Lorena of Cadilla. It's an honour to dance with you tonight."

"Um.. I..." A singular chuckle escaped my lips as I laughed at my own awkwardness. Trying to hide it, I coughed and straightened my face. "I-its wonderful to meet you."

She was waiting for something. Eventually, I remembered the etiquette, and added "Your…highness.*

Her hand was still while mine was trembling. I tried to get into the flow of things, stepping closer and further, inwards and outwards, our hands never touching no matter how close they got. She was rather beautiful - it was true - with deep brown coils and sangria lips, but my nerves prevented me from learning anything more about her.

Lorena was the first to speak yet again.

"I understand you have never attended a ball, your highness."

I shook my head. "N-n-no. Apologies… I am not used to…" where to even start? Not used to people, not used to conversation; not used to parties. "...any of this."

"Yes, you have been hidden away. All this time, we all assumed your father was too proud to present you to the world."

I couldn't tell whether that was an insult or a compliment. I remained silent. We danced with increasing discomfort.

"You won't speak to me?" She said with a frown. I wanted to speak, but I had no idea what to say. Regardless, I tried.

"N-no!"

I flushed pale. "I mean… I-"

At that point she'd already decided I was too stuck up for her.

"Fresa."

She hiked up her dress and marched away with a scowl. I stuttered after her, but all attempts were drowned out by the music. My gut was a sinking whirlpool.

Had my shyness truly come across as that rude?

It seemed so, as woman after woman seemed disappointed that my "Charming" title was merely a thing of folklore. The more I tried, the more I would stutter and say the wrong thing.

Another princess approached me, this one from a kingdom called Mariola.

"Wonderful to meet you, your majesty." She curtsied softly.

Although her skin was ghostly pale and her hair a muddy brown, I was intrigued by her accent, which seemed to ripple off her tongue. I had to try speaking this time, or I'd just suffer the way I'd suffered earlier.

"M-may we dance… your highness?"

She smiled sweetly.

This princess was dressed differently to the others. Her dress was more structured and rigid, allowing for less flow in her movement. Her puffed sleeves made her shoulders look like boulders, where every other lady had their shoulders and collarbones exposed.

"May you introduce yourself, your highness?"

"Oh!" I exclaimed, not realising I'd completely missed it. "Apologies, it seems all my lessons in etiquette have escaped me."

I imagined my politesse as a bird, flying far from the palace, "Be free."

"Excuse me?"

Did I say that out loud?

"Nothing. Just... an inside joke."

Inside joke with who?

"Right..." She forced a smile and nodded slowly.

"If you excuse me." I bowed as quick as I could and paced away, hoping to be struck down by a vengeful feathered serpent.

It was at that moment where mother approached me with a smile only I knew to be false, leading towards me a woman of a similar age to her own, with wrinkles lining her unnervably focused eyes and a vibrant ruby dress covering her skeletal arms.

"Your highness." The lady's bow was clearly practised, as balanced as it was graceful.

"This is Countess Gloria Del Flores, widow of the late exotic animal conservationist Count Del Flores." My mother introduced. I nodded, pretending to recognise those names yet instantly forgetting them. I hesitated, unsure whether to give my condolences or introduce myself first. Luckily, the countess must have caught on, and she interrupted.

"Your grace, my daughters would be honoured to dance with you tonight."

From the crowd emerged two young women, dressed in pink and peach respectively, their gowns adorned with flowers.

"Laelia. Dahlia." The countess called without the need to raise her voice, and the two girls hurriedly approached.

There was no denying the daughters' beauty. They were twins - alike in every manner aside from the short twists in Dahlia's hair and the long waves of Laelia's. The girls were as nervous as I was, though they were far worse at hiding it, their bows trembling and their giggling uncontrollable. The countess shot them a glare, just as my mother did to me.

Courteously, I held my hand out to Laelia, who flushed as pink as her dress. She balanced her smile under the uncomfortably watchful gaze of her mother, her sweaty palm meeting mine. Exchanging another bow to the countess, I led the girl to the centre of the ballroom floor.

Almost immediately, the dance was a complete disaster. Laelia flailed around, her feet clumsily stepping over mine with her heels. I couldn't hide my grimace.

"Sorry," she said, still unable to stop her laughter. "Oh...it's-" I began, but her chortle was so loud now it drowned out all my words. She gripped onto me harder to keep herself upright, until I was practically swinging her around the dancefloor, the both of our faces burning red. As soon as I could, I returned her to where I found her, but before I could leave, Dahlia took me by the hand and ran to the dancefloor, the people between us blurring.

Dahlia Del Flores, unlike her sister, was an excellent dancer. She was clearly well rehearsed in jarabe tapatio, enthusiastically swirling her dress into mesmerising circles patterned by decorated linings. Her feet touched the floor quickly and flawlessly, not making a sound, and for a moment, it was as though she was floating on air. Impressed, I told her,

"You are quite the remarkable dancer."

"I know," she replied almost instantly, "my sister was a fool for thinking she stood a chance with royalty. Not with those two left feet of hers."

Surprised by her boldness, I hoped she'd redeem herself in her next answer.

"You both look a picture."

"I more than her, I hope."

I chuckled, thinking the sarcasm was a disaster averted. Unfortunately, she continued. "Poor thing. People compare us all the time but we both know it's to make her feel better."

She turned my face and forced my eyes into hers. "You are rather handsome, my prince. Far too handsome to fall for the likes of Laelia."

I backed away as she leaned in. She pulled me in closer for a second attempt. I broke free, heart thundering with fear. Her eyebrows furrowed.

She said something, but I didn't know what. Before I knew it, I was running through the crowd, away from the shameless yells of Lady Dahlia.

Maybe finding a bride was impossible. Maybe I'd never see the ocean. Maybe…

Maybe I'd never leave.

My lip trembled and my breath shallowed. Colours and faces swirled around me, the music only growing louder and louder until the melody was unbearable. It was all a blur. It was all a trap I couldn't break out of.