But I Want To Dance With Ana

*Nicoli*

"Again, again!" 

Nicoli cheered, effortlessly twirling Ana in his arms. He couldn't even remember how many times this would be. Not that it mattered. Right now, he was over the moon and too happy to care.

 Dancing with Ana was the anticipated highlight of his night, no day, make that the whole year! He had been waiting all this time, and he would make sure he got in every second.

We'll dance the whole night together! Nicoli vowed before haphazardly swinging around the statues. They almost collided with a girl in blue. She jumped back in time, of course. But even then, Nicoli didn't stop to check. He carried Ana along. Fast enough to lift the sheer scarf up like a bird with each new twirl. 

Behind her, Nicoli watched the same girl shuffling back to her spots. She continued to dance, trying to enjoy the party. But not before she threw back a wayward glance his way. Unease painted her soft pout before shooting a disparaging glance at a friend. A glance, which, he noted, was spreading around.

They want to dance. Nicoli's chest fell, remembering. They had come here for a reason- him. But that just left Nicoli more unsettled. He didn't want to dance with them. They were just random girls.

And I have Ana.

 He wasn't about to let her go any time soon. That was for sure. However, he would need to do something. And Nicoli knew just what to do. 

He smiled at them, pretending oblivious and carefree. That he was nothing more than an exuberant boy in the thralls of fun. And just as he expected, it worked. 

Immediately, their faces brightened with quicker steps. The smile was more than enough to encourage. It lifted them out of their stupor. Not entirely. Nicoli knew, but no one was outright upset. They could wait. It bought him more time. 

Which means more time with Ana. Nicoli turned from them to take Ana's soft hand once more. His eyes shifted in time to catch the braid twirl sliding across her chest.

"I didn't get to say it before, but you look wonderful, Ana." Nicoli gushed. "And I like your hair." 

"Thank you," 

Ana lowered her head with a new flush in her cheeks. Her breath was coming out slightly haggard like she was already winded. But how? He hadn't even broken a sweat yet. He was fitting to dance at least five, no, 10 more songs before even thinking to sit down.

But perhaps I should take it easy. Nicoli considered just as Ana picked off the webbing on his red sleeve. 

"What is this?" 

She dropped the piece to cascade down to the floor before narrowing her eyes on the red coat.

"Why are you covered in cobwebs?" 

Crap. Nicoli stiffened his shoulders. He hoped she wouldn't have noticed. But of course, she would. Still, he played the fool.

"Don't you remember? I went to your room."

 Nicoli stopped to twirl Ana twice before settling back into his hands. Leaving the vampire breathless for a second, and, hopefully, forgetful.

But again, Nicoli failed to estimate Ana's perseverance.

"Yes, but why are you covered in spider-" Her crinoline rocked when halting her step. Her scarlet-colored eyes then narrowed on his.

"You didn't use the hidden passages, did you?"

Double crap! Nicoli reached for her hand, but Ana leaned back, crossing her arms as if seeing through the charade. But he couldn't help but continue the act and scratched the back of his mess of curls.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Nicoli feigned a smile, swallowing.

"Nicoli, I didn't think you would still-"

 Ana sighed and pushed in her brows with disappointment. 

"What?" 

"You know what." 

Nicoli shrugged innocently. He didn't think it was THAT bad.

"Of course, I still use them." Nicoli went, thinking that part was obvious. "It's faster access to get to you."

Nicoli thought that was more than enough good reason. But the vampire shook her head.

"Well, I don't like it. Use the normal halls." 

"No!" Nicoli pouted stubbornly before reaching to pull up her hand. "I don't want to."

"Nicoli-" But he was already twisting her around in one fast take. When Ana was back on her feet, she clenched her chest, swallowing in the air to catch herself again.

"Nicoli-" She breathed out between takes, but Nicoli was gliding them back to follow the violins.

"You haven't complimented my dancing. I've gotten better."

"Nicoli," Ana pressed on resiliently.

 "I don't want you to use those passages. No good can come from-"

"I practiced a lot since last time." 

 Ana blinked after him before lowering her shoulders defeatedly.

"Yes, you've gotten better." She admitted, but not before coming back to it.

"But, please. Promise me you won't use the passages anymore-"

"Better than you, I think." Nicoli winked. 

"Nicoli-" 

"So I am." 

Ana's face broke into a begrudging smile. 

"You are so silly sometimes." 

She shook her head again. Nicoli brightened. 

"You expected any less?"

"No, I-" Ana broke to laugh, a light and delicate trickle coming through her fangs. The sound immediately lifted Nicoli's chest with accomplishment. He had gotten her to laugh.

Now, if I can get her to start running around the room with me like last time- Nicoli conspired until he felt the tap on his shoulder for a booming male voice to follow.

"Excuse me, young man?"

Who dares- Nicoli flashed with red, ready to tell the invader to bug off, but just as he was about to turn his head and yell, he met blue eyes.

"Father?" Nicoli stared up. Immediately, Ana stopped in step, shock painting her eyes wider.

"King Alexander?" 

"Na-uh, Father bopped her nose. "it's Papa to you." 

"Pa?" Ana blinked, dumbfounded as Father went on.

"You two were having so much fun, and I thought I should come over." Alexander grinned.

Ana blinked again, still awestruck. Nicoli, however, was able to recover enough to see through his clever scheme.

"No, Ana's dancing with me!" Nicoli pulled her closer.

"Nicoli-" Ana jolted, looking at Nicoli, but he only narrowed his eyes to the bronze king in challenge.

A challenge that was quickly met as he only winked back.

"Aye, and I'm cutting in."

"No, you are not!" Nicoli turned to shove Ana behind him. 

"Nicoli!?" Ana cried, but his father was faster, holding a hand to her palm up.

"No, I was here first!" Nicoli insisted, swatting his hand away. But again, his father proved to be quicker. His hand was already spinning Nicoli around by the shoulder.

"How about you give a dance with one of these nice girls instead? "Father offered with a beaming grin. 

"They've been waiting."

And as if he uttered the magic words, girls immediately snapped their heads to them. Their eyes bulged with anxious anticipation like pigeons finding bread crumbs. 

And Nicoli was the bread.

 "I- no. I want to dance with Ana." Nicoli fumbled, looking back up. I want to dance with Ana, not them.

Father patted his shoulder in understanding but sighed.

"Just one dance then. I missed her too." 

"But-"

"You can dance with Ana after. I swear." Father vouched.

Nicoli held up his finger.

"Just one?"

"Just one." 

The two fell silent then, waiting for the other one to cave. In the end, though, it was him.

"Fine," Nicoli sighed dejectedly, dropping his arms to his side. "I'll go see Mom." 

And he threw a sad and longing look back to Ana, already hating this, but waved her a weak goodbye.

"I'll be back." 

And with that, Nicoli turned to walk, leaving the two behind.

 *Ana*

I swallow hard as I see Nicoli disappear onto the floor. He's gone. And now that means I'm left with...I gulp turning back to see Father. 

Father wants me to dance. I sink at the realization and swallow again. I turn to find his sapphire eyes waiting. He smiles. I flinch a little.

"Your majesty-" I barely begin before my foot slides, the white lace catching under my silk shoe. I can feel it slide out from under me, lose footing on the checkerboard tile, and start to fall backward. 

My lips split apart, ready to cry out, but before I can even utter a syllable, I feel warm hands catch my arm. I blink back at him in surprise.

"Easy there," Father soothes, pulling me back to my feet safely. Only then does he let go. 

"I, thank you," I mutter, catching my breath. I swallow, trying to calm the incessant beating in my chest. 

I've barely even been here an hour, and I am already making a fool of myself. I chide darkly. But to his credit, Father doesn't comment. 

Instead, his large hands move to take up mine just as the next song shrills from the strings. His step was easy and practiced as if he'd done this a thousand times before. I'm sure he has. But all the more why I focus on my feet, praying I don't mess up again. 

It's just one dance. I try to console myself with the idea that this will be over. And Father will go back to the platform with Stepmohter. And then we won't have to-

"Everyone is watching you, my dove." Father's voice cuts through the silence, making me jerk up with a start.

"Me? Why?" I blink back, confused.

Father chuckles and tilts his head. Curious of what he means, I follow his gaze. At first, I don't see what interests him, but then I do. He was right.

Girls stop every so often to throw us a glance between steps. They smile and nod at me when I meet their gaze. It happens again soon after. I was so caught up in Nicoli, and now, Father, I didn't even register it.

"They think you're pretty."

"Me?" The words feel crooked in my mouth.

Father nods.

"Like your mother."

I twist back to meet him, forgetting to be nervous anymore. The mention of anything about my mother ignited my curiosity.

 "Do I?" 

Father nods, but a troubled expression crosses his face, making his eyebrows push up. His blue eyes regard me curiously.

"Does no one tell you these things?"

"It's bad luck to speak of the dead." 

Father smirks with a soft snort.

"Yet you ask me?"

"I…yes, that is wrong of me." I look down at my feet. "Forget I mentioned it." 

Father stares after me for a long pause before sighing through his nose.

"No, it's not wrong. You are allowed to know." 

"Allowed?" I feel my breath catch in my chest—the very idea- to be allowed. 

No, I've never been allowed- not in Nochten. Mother was always a taboo like everything else.

But here, with Father in front of me, can I? Could I?

"Do you think…mother would have liked me?"

"Liked…?" 

"Oh, I-" I look down.

I shouldn't have- He must think I am being disrespectful.

"I didn't mean to insinuate-" 

"She would have loved you. Like I love you."

You love me? I look up at him wide-eyed. 

As if he can read my thoughts, Father leans over. His beard scratches my forehead before he leans back, the kiss still warm on my skin. 

He smiles back at me again softly. "I hope you know that."

 I shift inside. "Father?"

"Nope," He bops my nose.

"It's Papa. You used to call me that when you were little."

Did I? I reel back at the very idea. Could I have ever called him something so childish? 

"Pa- I can't say it." I shake my head. Feeling foolish. But he squeezes my hand then.

"I'll keep spinning you if you don't." He threatens lightly as a joke. But he lifts his arm high enough as if he could. 

"I'll twirl you the whole night." 

The whole night!? I swallow. No, I do not like that idea at all. I'm still feeling dizzy as it is. 

So I lick my lips and give it another try.

"Pa-papa?" As soon as the word creeps out, I flush. I felt so silly. 

"T-there. I said it." 

His grin widens with a sparkle in his blue.

"That you did." He beams and then stops. 

"What?" I look up at him. The song isn't over. Why have we stopped?

"Why have we-" In a moment, I see us next to the statues, the platform, and then mirrors. I cry and clamp my eyes closed. But it's a bit late. I feel my eyes start to rattle in my skull as we are spinning.

"You promised you wouldn't!" I cry, holding on for dear life. Father throws back his head to roar in laughter. Twisting us both around and around.

"I lied!"

 *Mykhol*

"Disgusting," Mykhol hissed through fangs, turning away from the familial moment, unable to watch anymore. 

It was almost enough to turn his stomach. Not that it matters. The cooked meat was already doing a good job of that. He grumbled.

Mykhol felt eyes on him then, and he didn't need to pretend surprise. But he still played up his smile as he moved. Lightly nodded to those he passed that hung on the edge of the checkered floor before reaching his destination.

"Your Highness," Mykhol bowed from the rest before the platform. 

The brunette queen waited till he rose again before replying cooly.

"Lord Mykhol." 

Then, as quickly as Queen Belinda's eyes shifted back to the floor, she seemed preoccupied with the dance. Or a certain pair, Mykhol could guess.

But Mykhol could see through that careful mask of hers. Cracks were forming. She was clenching her teeth- polished fingernails dug into the throne's armrest. 

Mykhol smirked to himself. It seemed the feeling was mutual. 

"Things not going well?" Mykhol offered. 

"Not completely." Queen Belinda's eyes shifted. Mykhol followed her gaze to find them falling on the giant.

"Ah, Hildenberg, you mean?"

Queen Belinda curled her painted lips into a tempered smile.

"Nice broach she wears," Mykhol commented before lifting back to her. "I swear it's something I would expect you to own."

Mykhol turned a quarterway to grin at her. 

"Or perhaps it's an investment?" 

Belinda twitched slightly at that, but if she was unnerved, she swallowed back down.

"You are a clever one." 

"I try." Mykhol tilted his hat.

Belinda regarded him a moment before flexing her fingers.

"The child was crumbled over in pain earlier." She recalled sharpening her gaze. " Isn't that one of those 'signs'?"

She lifted her hand to circle the air. Mykhol lifted a brow.

"It could be."

"Is she close, then? How long do you think?"

Mykhol shrugged.

"I'd say soon. A day or two."

"You don't know?" Queen Belinda sharpened. He could hear her breath hitch a little.

Again, he only shrugged.

"Who's to say?" Mykhol retorted, but this was the wrong answer, apparently. 

"The last thing I need is a vampire in blood lust." Belinda snapped, low enough not to be heard past the platform but strong enough to feel like razors scraping down his back.

Mykhol flinched but swallowed. 

"If anything happens, I assure you, I will-"

"If anything happens to my son," Her voice shrilled between clenched teeth. The sound dragged an undercurrent of hate fermented in a pit of years-long resentment as she finished. 

"I shall hold you responsible." Belinda leaned back into the pale blue cushion. Her gaze remained on him a beat before lifting back to the floor. It meant the conversation was over.

"Your majesty."

Mykhol only bowed again, tucking in his fanged smile as he turned. But he couldn't resist the small laugh behind his tongue.

"I'm sure you will."