Swansong

It was the last ball in the castle. The King and Queen had already been executed. Tomorrow, it would be the Princess's turn. Yet she had insisted on organizing a last ball. None of her supporters turned up. Admittedly, the few friends she had left preferred to stay cooped up at home, for fear that tonight their heads would fall on the scaffold.

Tonight's assembly was a sight to behold. Wherever the eye wandered, it found only opportunists and seventh sons. Nouveau riche and pseudo-nobles who had only turned up to make some profit from the evening. And if they weren't there for the money then they were there for the shenanigans, or simply in the hope of seeing the Princess humiliated. And that was what most of the 'guests' were talking about.

Anyone in their right mind would have canceled this ball, so doomed was it to failure.

But not the Princess. This girl was different.

Suddenly, the doors opened. All eyes turned to the new entrant. Rumors swirled: was it the Princess?

Then, at once, the murmurs died down. It was her. Dressed in her most beautiful azure-blue gown, she was resplendent beyond compare. Her golden hair was adorned with a silver diadem and a necklace of impossibly round pearls decorated her alabaster cleavage.

The music had died down, and only the sound of her pumps on the ballroom floor disturbed the silence caused by her entrance.

To my surprise, there was no outcry. If it had been anyone else, such a display of wealth would have triggered an outburst of anger, and their head would have ended up on the end of a pike in an instant. But not the Princess. For some unexplainable reason, this outfit looked natural on her. Almost understated. Just emphasizing her natural charm.

How could she be so beautiful? How could she be so sure of herself when she'd be dead before daybreak?

These questions danced in my head and burned the lips of everyone in the room. Even those who had only come to cause a scandal.

But as time seemed to stand still, the Princess crossed the room and appeared before me.

"Care for a dance?" she asked, extending her hand.

I was dumbstruck.

Without waiting for my reply, she grabbed me by the hand, pulled me into the middle of the room, and placed my hand on her hips.

"Let's begin."

And she started to dance.

Without music.

Still completely stunned, I just followed her lead. And soon we were twirling on the floorboards.

It was only then that the musicians reacted and began to play a tune based on the Princess's dance rhythm. It was only then that I finally managed to snap out of my trance. A huge sigh went through the assembly. The spell the Princess had cast on them upon her arrival had been broken.

"Princess." I finally managed to articulate.

"You know, I'm glad to see you here. I was afraid all I'd find were hostile faces."

I swallowed. I was ashamed. Ashamed to be here. I, too, was just a seventh son. A pretentious nobleman. An upstart who hoped to gain something from the evening. I didn't deserve her trust.

And yet the Princess had chosen me.

She moved closer to my ear:

"I haven't forgotten you, Chris. When the revolution started, I disguised myself as a peasant to escape. But the insurgents weren't fooled. It was only thanks to your intervention that I could get away."

"That girl! Was that you?"

The Princess giggled:

"Yes! I had a feeling you didn't recognize me! You'd never have spoken to me like that otherwise."

And she laughed even harder. Faced with such a pure sound and such an angelic smile, I couldn't help but blush.

"I'm sorry, Princess! If I'd known, I-"

"Don't worry about that. I've always wanted to thank you."

A wave of sadness washed over her face. She pushed it away with a forced smile and continued:

"I may not be in the best situation right now, but if there's anything I can do to help, don't hesitate to ask. I may only have ten hours or so left, but I'm still the Princess all the same!"

Behind her bravado, she had never seemed so fragile. I wanted to hug her and tell her everything would be all right. But it wouldn't. Tomorrow, she would die. And there was nothing she or I could do about it.

The day I had saved her, I had been battered by the rioters. That day, I had also fallen madly in love. And just as I was finally finding my lost love, it was taken away from me. How cruel the gods were.

"Princess! I have a request for you!"

Faced with my sudden outburst, the Princess stared at me curiously.

"Give me your hand! Live, and allow me to marry you!"

The music quickened, but the Princess's steps became heavier. It was as if the chains that held her prisoner were finally weighing down on her.

Nonetheless, the Princess burst out laughing.

"I'm sorry, but there are two requests here! And I can only grant you one!"

I bit my lip.

"Come on, don't make that face! It's all right. I'll grant you my hand."

My heart leaped in my chest.

"However, as for your second request... I'm sorry, but tomorrow, I'll die."

An icy torrent swept over me. I couldn't find her and lose her so quickly. It wasn't possible!

In a daze, my feet became entangled. I felt my body tilt backward and would have crashed to the ground if the Princess hadn't caught me in a slip. Applause rang out, the maneuver had been a sublime dance step.

"Come on, pull yourself together, dear. This is our first dance as a couple, we've got to make the most of it."

She immediately hastened her pace to catch up with the music. Despite everything, she was radiant.

I had to pull myself together. I couldn't let her down. After all, this was our last dance.

That evening, the Princess dazzled all the guests. And I, in the front row, fell more and more in love with every second I spent with her.

This funeral ball was her swansong.

But like all the most beautiful dreams, it was short-lived. And reality soon caught up with us.

Ten guards burst into the ball and snatched the Princess from my arms.

I was about to protest, but she didn't fight back. She left as she had arrived: with dignity.

Before leaving the ballroom, she turned one last time.

"See you tomorrow." She said casually.

The guests were confused, but I knew she was talking to me.

That night, I couldn't sleep. How could I?

Then, at daybreak, just as the crowd had gathered in front of the scaffold and the first glimmers of sunlight were reflecting on the executioner's blade, the Princess appeared. No richly decorated gowns or expensive jewelry. This time, she appeared in a simple white negligee. But it was with the same confident gait that she headed for death.

"Any last words?" growled the executioner.

The Princess, getting down on her knees, replied:

"Yes. I cannot promise my hand for life, but I can for death. May you join me soon, my love."

These words sent an electric shock through my body. I jumped out of the crowd and pulled myself up to her level. The guards reacted immediately, brandishing their rifles. I drew my sword and smiled broadly.

"May we be united forever."

Maybe this wasn't how I saw myself ending up yesterday, but if we won't die for love, then why should we?

Then the guards fired.