Estelle positively, absolutely, never endlessly hated the idea of dance. Every time the blonde haired princess tried, her two feet always looped over one another, and soon she'd be falling flat on her back. The princess knew dancing was a sacred Netheron tradition but it was one she'd been horrible at. Dancing made her nervous, too uncomfortable for any tradition and slow dancing was especially bad this way. There was no way she could ever stun a prince, if she danced clumsily. Not that she cared anyway- her mother and father had been trying for years to find her the right man, with little success. She considered skipping out on many ballroom events because of her distaste for the matter, and the sooner that she went home, the better.
Marcilyn Locket came up to her one day, at one of these ballroom events. The castle’s ballroom was a beautiful one: many purple, silver and white decorations filled the room, and the curtains were showered with many silver and gold jewels. The colors were reminiscent of the Netheron flag, and the half-moon decorated many of the wall decorations. There were tall pillars holding up the corridors, and a lovely sparkling chandelier hanging from the ceiling. There were platters of food stored in one giant table at the end of the room, and an orchestra on a second level. It overall fit for a fine appearance.
The olive-colored inventor generally didn’t go to such events, due to her equal distaste for parties. Her friend however was looking gloomy, and so she had decided it was time she come with, and show her some support. Secretly, Estelle liked the idea of dancing with Marcilyn- but she would never ever admit that. Marcilyn was her best friend, yet her assistant. She was the assistant of the rain machine, after all.
She was a princess, and should know how to dance. But her best friend Marcilyn was a world class inventor, and a talented one at that. Marcilyn knew how to invent, but she also knew how to draw. She'd drawn many lovely portraits of the princess for her mother, as her mother rejoiced in her ability to capture her appearance with clear accuracy. She knew Marcilyn was more than just a simple servant. She was beyond a servant. She was her best friend! They both shared a remarkable interest with each other: to invent and have love for technology. But Estelle did not know how to dance, would never know how to dance- and many had taught her the art, and failed miserably. Her clumsiness betrayed her, and she knew, knew she was much too careless.
Not every day was bound to be this gloomy, as Marcilyn would have told her. But Estelle had a very particular feeling something would put her into a bad mood. Her feeling became true when she saw Meyhra dance with one of the ballroom men with a very broad grin on her face. It wasn't the dancing that made her upset- rather the words that she emitted from her own mouth.
“You're not fit to dance like me,” Meyhra told her, wiping her long creamy blonde hair in her face. It wasn’t tied up in her bun as usual, laying down low to her lower back. She looked like Estelle from a distance, but her hair was much more longer and her eyes didn’t match with Estelle’s burgundy eyes, but were a startling light blue instead. She glided across the room in a way that was beyond romantic: Meyhra was dating another monarch so rich, Estelle knew he was loaded with euros.
“You're just going to end up with some bum on the street, as you always do,” The cousin retorted. Estelle could feel herself begin to bubble up with anger.
Estelle generally fought back with equal snarkiness, but she wasn't feeling in the mood this time. Meyhra had won the argument, and she stayed silent as Meyhra danced away, and scattered into the distance. She didn't want to end up with a bum- but she didn't want to end up with a prince either. A man meant responsibility she just couldn't have, and the idea of children disgusted her. Why Meyhra considered to harass her about something so personal, she didn't know. But her cousin was always one to be snarky, even if it really did hurt sometimes.
On that day, she realized quickly she wasn't the only one with dancing issues. Marcilyn herself, all alone: glided across the room with intensity. No one wanted to dance with the inventor as her moves were much to sharp, and passionate for the Netheronian taste. She twirled and spiraled, waving her arms around gracefully as she continually wove herself into formations like Estelle had never seen, and continually and harshly kicked her feet together as she moved her arms and spiraled across the room. She'd come from a land where passion was important in dancing, and so she danced like such. Her traditions carried back to the times of earth: the place where dancing was loved and cherished by many. Huertians in general had taken this tradition and turned it on its upside, where dancing was a form of respect and dignity. Marcilyn clearly showed none of this: proceeding only to dance as if she were showing her own passionate, wild love.
Estelle watched her with such amazement, it made her heart race. She was very beautiful the way she danced- it was a beauty that was rare and wonderful. Estelle wished, secretly wished Marcilyn would dance with her like that. Her dream came true when Marcilyn looked up at her with sparkling eyes, and came over to her, offering her a dance.
“Would you like to learn how to dance with me?” Marcilyn asked. Estelle hesitated, knowing quickly no one had been able to teach her to do such.
“Sure...” Estelle said with a pause. “Though I am not particularly-”
Without a second, the inventor swept her off of her feet, pulling her close. The closeness was remarkable to the princess- and the two girls were blushing greatly, their faces blooming with red, and their heels clashing together in their awkward movements. Estelle felt especially embarrassed, she'd already felt like she was dying and she barely even started dancing. Being with Marcilyn calmed her, although her heart was accelerating much for an unknown reason.
Estelle was taken all across the dance room. Marcilyn spun her around several times, gripping her arms as she pulled her into her. She curled the princess into her, shocking even Meyhra from a distance. The two stood still for a moment, breathing heavily before Marcilyn uncurled her and continued to take her for a stroll across the room. Many stared at them as they danced, causing an uneasiness to appear on her face. Marcilyn gripped her hands, continually dancing in a way that was much different than the rest of the crowd. She danced with a serious passion, one that was much different than anything she’d ever come across, and this made Estelle's heart soar with love.
Marcilyn was going so fast, so furious- it allured her. She did a few more twirls until she dove forward and pulled the princess to the edges of her toes. And strangely, as the inventor came to a halt and pulled her up, Estelle lost her balance and tripped on her heels and they toppled over onto the floor. The back entrance was just before them, with a pure coincidental occurrence. The inventor laughed carelessly, as Estelle sat there struggling to comprehend what just happened. She tensed up and almost felt tears come to her eyes, an embarrassment seeping over her.
“That was just an excuse to dance with me, wasn’t it?” Estelle asked, dusting off her clothes.
“Oh no, Estelle. I wanted to teach you the way of my heritage. It’s all I know. We Heneurockers are passionate dancers,” Marcilyn said with a small laugh. “Come on, I’ll teach you for real this time.”
“No thank you...” The princess replied. “I felt so embarrassed dancing with you like that- I wanted to cry...”
Marcilyn looked hurt at the words. Estelle felt a tinge of regret staring into those sad brown eyes. She didn’t mean to sound so... unenthusiastic at the thought. As much as she liked dancing with Marcilyn... she’d rather do it in private, without anyone else around her.
“Maybe we’ll go a little bit slower then...” Marcilyn responded.
“Could we dance alone? Without all of these people around us?” Estelle asked. “I mean... I didn’t mean to sound so unenthusiastic about it. But I really feel like everyone’s staring at me- even Meyhra, when we dance together...”
“Ah... certainly...” Marcilyn paused, offering to pull the princess up. “I can understand being embarrassed about dancing... I mean, when I first learned to slow dance, I was so embarrassed...”
“Who exactly did you slow dance with?” Estelle asked.
“Ah, that’s not too important I suppose...” Marcilyn told her, a small embarrassed look appearing on her face. Estelle had never seen her best friend blush so much. “But would you mind if I taught you to slow dance?”
“S-slow dance?” Estelle sputtered. She really thought of it. “Maybe somewhere private, away from my mother’s prying eyes...”
“It’s just because I’m a girl, isn’t it?” Marcilyn asked, with a strong huff.
“No- not at all!” Estelle shouted. “She’s just... never really been supportive of me dancing with my servants...”
Marcilyn huffed again. Estelle knew she hated being called a servant more than anything in the world. Estelle hated the thought too- she’d much rather call her a best friend than anything else... and she knew that Marcilyn’s culture was much different than her own. Marcilyn struggled to live all the way in the country of Netheron, away from her own country of Heneurock. Just because Netheron was a lot more closed minded than anything else.
As if seeing Marcilyn’s slight frustration, Estelle quickly said, “You’re so much more than just a servant to me. You’re also my best friend. And you’re a really amazing dancer…”
The princess gave a small sincere smile. If she could rebel against her mother, it would be slow dancing with Marcilyn. Her mother might make the biggest deal out of it if she found out, but she didn’t care. Slow dancing with Marcilyn brought her much joy.
“Do you really believe that?” Marcilyn asked.
“Of course,” Estelle responded. She grabbed her hand, “Come on, I’ll take you to the backrooms.”
Marcilyn nodded her head, a bright smile filling her lips. The inventor proudly walked with her, hand and hand into the backroom. It was empty, but they could still hear the party music from a distance. No one was here, but a bunch of boxes.
“Alright Marcilyn, show me what you got,” Estelle told her.
Marcilyn was practically glowing as she clutched the princess’s hand and brought her to a closeness that was even closer than their dance earlier. They were practically neck to neck with each other, to the point of where Estelle could smell the scent of motor oil. It wasn't quite pleasing to smell, but in the presence of Marcilyn, it was very sweet smelling. Their bodies were pressed together in a warm embrace as the two of them slowly strode across the room, Marcilyn hand held her back, supporting her. She leaned in fairly close to Marcilyn, resting her head on her shoulder. It was so blissful- so, so blissful. Estelle never wanted it to end.
As they danced, Marcilyn wrapped her arms around Estelle's neck, peacefully embracing her. The closeness was one the princess wasn't used to, but it brought her much love and joy, and gave her so much life. She could feel her heart begin to race, and felt strangely giddy at the thought of taking it further and kissing Marcilyn, though she contained herself. She knew fully it was not okay to kiss a servant, even if she doubled as a friend.
They slowly danced for a long time, and at that moment: Estelle felt whole and complete, more than she had so in ages. Oh how she wished she could dance like this forever, with her best friend none the less. How she wished Marcilyn would stay with her forever, and caress her body with her moves.
Finally, Marcilyn let go of her. She raised Estelle’s chin with a gentle touch and a cat-toothed grin that only Marcilyn could wield.
“You realize you weren’t clumsy at all when you danced with me, did you?” She asked.
Estelle smiled at this, and laughed.
For a moment in her time, everything was perfect.