Third Wheel

*Ana*

Why is everyone so quiet? I can't help but flex my hand on Mykhols arm again, noticing neither of us has talked since Father joined us.

We have been walking for some time, thanks to how far back the rooms were in the castle, and I am between both. Father to my left and Mykhol to my right. We have left the east wing to the more decorated and lively halls of the west. I can see more maids running about now, carrying food trays and flowers for the ball. Last-minute changes, I'd assume, before it happens once more.

There it is again. What is this strange pressure? I'm sure I'm not imagining things. It's like two magnets repelling each other. And I am, unfortunately, stuck in the middle.

This is… uncomfortable. I swallow, moving again to flex my fingers in Mykhol's arm. His arm felt slightly tighter, like a snake hugging a mouse. Perhaps he is feeling it, too? This strange unease that has fallen over all of us?

Is it because he is here? I look back at the tall bronze man to my left. If he is uncomfortable, he doesn't show it. Father is dressed up in a red and green suit with leaves attached to the jacket. His costume alludes me, but then again, many things about him do. 

He's rather hard to read, isn't he? I look on at the man, once a stranger, now a father again. I can not help but feel disheveled by his presence.

It was shocking to seem suddenly there. I think back. I didn't expect to see him at the door. Honestly, I didn't want to run into him again so quickly after my confession back in the maze. 

Perhaps this is part of why I feel like this. Like I'm settled. I guess I wouldn't be. Everything moved so quickly, with Father demanding a ball on a whim, then Hidi abruptly in my room, all the way till now. I haven't had the chance to sit down with myself and digest everything. 

It's all just too unbelievable. I realize, looking over Father's profile. 

Father forgave me. That alone was unexpected. But more, he wants to 'live in the present.'. Like everything is fine again. I stare at his high-bridge nose. 

But can it truly? I wonder, scratching my claws lightly against Mykhol's arm. Will anything be fine after all that has-

I nearly jump, suddenly meeting sapphire eyes snap to me.

"Daughter, what is it?" Father blinks back at me innocently. I quickly look back down in a panic.

"I- I wasn't staring, King Alexander!" I try to hide the fact my cheeks are burning. " I-"

"Can't you call me Papa?" 

"What?" I barely choke, flicking my eyes back up to find his patient gaze. He nods, tilting that thick beard against his collar as if to encourage something.

"Call me Papa." 

"Sorry?" I blink before my cheeks start to grow hot again, and my ears ring.

Does he want me to…is he being serious?

 "Yes, call me Papa. Right now!" Father's eyes harrow down on me like an endless blue tunnel. His smile was up and waiting for me to do just that like it was the simplest thing in the world. 

But how can I possibly?

He wants me too- My head is spinning. But he just smiles wider to show all his white teeth as if he will only keep pressing if I don't. I swallow, finding my mouth suddenly dry. But it doesn't seem I have a choice, being put out on the spot. His oceanic gaze was relentless. 

So I lick my lips and try.

"Pa-" The word cracks out dryly and unfinished. It won't form. Like a foreign language, I'm tongue-tied. But that only seems to drive him to encourage me harder.

"Yes, that's it." Father reaches to hold my hand, his calloused fingers warm and surprisingly tender as they pump over mine. 

"Go ahead. You can do it." 

"Pa-" I widen my mouth to suck in air before the coughing begins. Mykhol pats his chest with another clearing of his throat, pulling me closer to break eye contact. I immediately take my escape with relish. 

'Thank you.' I dart the quiet message up to Mykhol. He smiles softly back, his hand moving to squeeze my finger in a gentle 'your welcome.' But as he smiles down at me, Father frowns, lifting his eyes now from me to him.

"Oh, Lord Mykhol, there you are." Father's words come out in blocks. "I forgot about you." 

Mykhol stiffens against me, but only slightly, before he turns back to throw on that courtly smile he likes to Father.

"My apologies, your majesty." Mykhol bows his head, clinking his gold earrings together. "I must have been too quiet."

"Too bad you're not now," Father remarks in such a cool tone that I have to look up at him with surprise. But Father isn't looking at me, for once. His blue eyes are steadily focused on Mykhol's red. The two watch each other like stray cats sizing up the other. Father's eyes narrow after him.

"That's right. I didn't get to ask." Father's voice rang after a moment, but his eyes darted back to me more warmly. As if a different person.

"What is Lord Mykhol's costume meant to be, Ana? Do you know?" 

"Cousin is a pirate,"

"A pirate?" Father cocks a brow at me, surprised at first, then amused as he looks back to him.

"A thief, how fitting."

"A Bulgeon, to be accurate." Mykhol corrects in a slightly thinner tone. His eyes again met Father's with a bit more heat. 

"But Forgive me, Your Majesty. What is your costume to be?" Mykhol nods at his red and green suit with leaves attached. 

"I'm afraid the concept alludes to me." He went on to find his blue eyes, and I could feel that odd pressure once again. That strange push and pull that keeps making me feel unsteady.

But whatever it is, it doesn't affect them the same. Rather, where I feel like being tossed, they both seem to only shift straighter. Both firm and planted as they are. 

Father doesn't answer Mykhol at first. Only keeps his blue meeting Mykhol's red before slowly relenting to a small sigh. A sheepish smile directed back to me and me only.

"To be honest, I'm not sure." Father scratches his beard as if a bit embarrassed by the confession. "Belinda told me to wear this. And I didn't ask." 

He shrugged his broad shoulders as if admitting his lack of interest. But just as quickly, he was back to me. More at ease now. His eyes sparkled back with his usual mirth. 

"But I'm sure-" 

"I know exactly what you could be." 

Here, both Father and I look up with surprise to see Mykhol. His thin lips stretched to a toothy smile with fangs out. As if tickled by the revelation.

A sharp laugh escapes his lips before he leans into me.

"Can't you see, dear cousin?" His voice purrs. But alas, I shake my head as I don't. 

"I'd think it's obvious." Mykhol lets out another laugh. He seems to be enjoying this. But he is the only one, as Father and I silently stand by. Waiting.

Mykhol softens his laugh just enough to look back at Father, his grin thinning by the edges for something darker.

"He's the vanishing man, of course."

"Vanishing man?" What does that mean? I blink. But Mykhol is off to a new set of chuckling, his hand patting over mine as if in a good joke.

"Yes, he's quite good at that." Mykhol carries on, The delight is still in his voice, as his eyes flick back to father.

"Aren't you, King Alexander?"

And then Mykhol laughs again. 

"Cousin, I'm not following-" But as I speak, Father turns on his foot to look directly at him.

"Do you think I wanted it that way?" Father retorts deeply with that chilly tone back in his voice. I stiffen reflexively, but he doesn't. 

Mykhol just leans back to pull out his shoulder and stands just an inch taller as if to look down at him.

"Didn't you?" Mykhol's words curl between fangs. And he beams an amused smile.

"You little piece off-" Father growls, grinding his teeth before I see his hands make fists, and I panic. I can't follow any of this. 

Weren't we talking about costumes? My heart jolts, looking from his fist to Mykhol's smile. What was happening here?

"What is the meaning of-" I start just as I notice something between their voices.

My ears pick up the sound of feet on the red runner. As I listen, I realize the sound of clicking. They are wearing heels. 

Is it Hidi again? Is she back from talking with her Stepmother? I lift my head expectedly for the giant blond. She should come bounding around the corner in her yellow dress any moment. Loud and smiling. No doubt excited to show me her costume and- 

That's… not Hidi. My breath catches in my throat. 

Even with the mask, I can recognize that perfectly painted smile from anywhere. Her sable-colored eyes flick at me for just a hair second, and I stiffen. My hand claws into Mykhol's black sleeve on reflex. 

"Cousin?" Mykhol notices and turns to me, but I don't make a word. I can't. Not when those terrible grey eyes burrow into me.

When the woman smiles again, I shudder, stepping closer to Mykhol.

"Hmm?" Father, noticing my stare, instantly turns to lift his brow just as she speaks.

"My, my. Is this where you were hiding, Alexander?" Her smile, stretching across her oval face, seemed to devour the very air around her. I felt myself stiffen and swallow, unable to break away. But at last, with strength, I could. Daring a glance over her shoulder, expecting to find Hidi.

But again, I don't. The blond and cheerful girl is nowhere in sight, but I see that maid. The old one with the server bun, who usually hangs around my stepmother.

She's holding some strange box with her. 

What is that- I hiss as the pain twists below my stomach again, suddenly tight and hard. I move to rub at the spot, finding it tender and vexed.

"Cousin?" Mykhol lifts his head, finding my state. He moves to touch my hand with concern drawn on his face. It's cold against my hotter skin and I can't help but lean in. Relishing it. 

"I'm okay." I breathe out, trying not to make a bigger deal out of it. The cramp isn't that bad. And I quickly try to return my composure.

I hope no one noticed that- But of course they do. I find blue and greys staring after me. Stepmother's back straightens as Father's brows pinch together.

"Honey?" Father's voice drips with care. His eyes rested on my hand over my stomach.

"What's wrong? Your tummy hurt?" He asks before reaching out to touch my hand before I jerk back, moving tighter to Mykhol reflexively.

"No- I'm fine.." My lips move before I even think, desperate to play it off as nothing because I want it to be. 

Especially with Stepmother right here. Her steel grey eyes are pointed and dangerous as she observes me with a sharp glance at my hand. Her painted lips are pursing as her jaw tightens. 

"Oh…the corset just poked me," I lie quickly. "Nothing more."

"The corset?" Father blinks. For a moment, considers it but then shakes his head. His voice was again concerned and careful.

"Honey, if you don't feel well. We can cancel-"

"Cancel the ball?" Stepmother's voice lifts an octave that makes Father flinch. Her grey eyes were now burning at him as if he just said something very stupid. It's enough to make Father freeze up a bit as if stuck. His blue eyes shift to me again as he's not sure how to proceed. 

He's trying to be considerate. I realize but just as quickly swallow. It's not often I get that. But I already know I can't.

"No, I'm fine. Please." I lie again, quickly throwing up my hand to wave. "I want the dance." I smile as if trying to convenience myself more than them.

Father only frowns before opening his mouth to speak, likely to push again, but Stepmother is quicker.

"You heard her. She's fine now." Stepmother dismisses, fluttering her polished hand. "And anyways." she playfully smacked Father's shoulder. 

"Naughty boy. I've been looking for you everywhere." 

"Have You?" Father moves to his attacked arm but not before raising his thick brows. She nods, gesturing to Julia. The old maid holds out a box for Stepmother to pull something out.

"Your mask, my dear."

"Ah. I forgot." Father reaches for the mask, something I notice matches his suit and her ball-grown dress. Both green and red. 

"Now," Stepmother, no longer interested in us, turns on a dime to weave her arm around Father's.

"Escort me to the ballroom, dear?" She bats her long lashes to make Father tense up a little, as if not immune to its power.

"Ah, well," Father mutters, dropping his shoulder, throwing a glance at me as if not quite ready to go. But in the end, he sighed.

"Yes, dear," Father turns, resting his hand over hers. Both bow to me, then Mykhol, before turning to walk ahead of us. Belinda's heels click loudly as she seems eager to go, making a decent distance down the hall. But abruptly, Father twists his head back to meet me.

"I'll be getting a dance with you tonight." Father goes. It's not a question but a demand. 

"A dance?" I blink, feeling my chest tighten. 

"My husband lets away." Stepmother urges with a slight twist in her otherwise melodic tone. She yanks his arm slightly to make him stumble a step. But he moved to catch up quickly. His blue eyes glanced back one last time, holding up one finger before disappearing around the corner.

"He… wants a dance?" I repeat, still stunned by the demand, not the request. My head shakes a little at the strangeness of it all before I feel Mykhol move. His hand slides over mine, still cool on my skin. 

"We should keep going." Mykhol gently offers, and I nod.

"Yes, let's-." I wince, clicking my fangs together as I clench my teeth from the pain. The stabbing is much worse. Worse than it was before. Leaving me to hunch forward, wrapping my hand over my stomach, and just breathing. Once, twice. Urging it to stop.

And just as quickly as it came. It's gone. I'm suddenly back to myself again. Like it never happened. But now I feel a slight sheen of sweat gather between my corset.

That one hurt.  

"Is it your stomach again?" Mykhol asks, holding my hand, his fingers gently tracing over mine with concern. 

"It's… nothing," I press my lips, taking another breath to catch my balance. But just as I am ready to walk again, I can feel him watching carefully. His red eyes darted from my stomach back to my face. And suddenly, I felt a need to convince him.

"I- I don't think I've eaten enough." I excuse.

Mykhol nods slightly, but his crimson just narrows on my abdomen again. And then he smiles quietly. The grin twists on the side of his lips with dark humor.

"Come, Anastasia." He wrapped his hand over mine, his long fingers curling around. His face was bright, a hint of giddiness lingering between the corners of his mouth. Like he knew something he found all too funny.

Even his voice held a ring of laughter as he went on.

"Your ball awaits."