Everywhere on the blue tiles, feet spun and walked, as an orchestra played the melody which set the cadence of their steps. Silk, lace and velvet caressed the floor as the ladies dressed in long fancy dresses gave in to the music, sharing smiles and gazes with their dance partners who led their moves. Their shadows came and went on the luxurious velvet curtains at the tall windows, as the bright lights of the ivory chandelier shone upon their figures. The ballroom had turned into a myriad of colours in motion.

Laughter echoed in the hall every so often, as well as voices sharing sweet words or jokes. The troubles of their everyday lives seemed to have never existed; it was as though they had removed the weight that had lingered upon their shoulders for a while before throwing it away. Their dancing feet were stamping on it carelessly. That night, there was not enough space for worries, for joy had replaced it.

At the far end of the ballroom, the King and the Queen, dressed in expensive outfits were sitting on their red velvet thrones, which were displayed on a small stage. With smiles on their faces, they let their eyes wander across the room, watching couples dance to the music the orchestra was playing. They appeared rather satisfied by their Carnival ball, which had succeeded to gather many people from their territory, and others from foreign lands.

Watching the scene from behind a curtain upstairs, Dorothea let out a sigh. For the occasion, she had put on her favourite ball gown, yet her insecurity restrained her from showing up to the ball. Unfortunately, she knew she could not hide eternally, since she was the daughter of the sovereigns. Protocol forced her into being present at the event, and she had to share at least one dance with any of the male guests. The truth was, she was quite uncomfortable with traditions and with the idea of dancing in front of everyone, including foreign princes who potentially could ask for her hand in marriage.

She looked down at her dress and made sure nothing was out of place or filthy. Her dress was one of her most precious belongings, although she had not worn it often. It was a bit old-fashioned for her time, being typical of the previous century. It was made of golden satin and black velvet; satin formed the long and wide angel sleeves as well as the front of the dress, while velvet covered the shoulders, the top of the arms, and the whole back. It was corseted at the front by a velvet string. A black choker – with beads and diamonds resting on her collar bones as well as her shoulder-length hair – was tied around her neck, matching perfectly with her outfit.

Hearing footsteps behind her, she quickly turned her head and smiled at the sight of Annie, her servant. She was coming up to her with a grin, yet Dorothea could tell something worried her. Annie grabbed her hands and stepped back, admiring her dress.

'Your Majesty,' she cooed, 'you are irresistible, and incredibly beautiful in this dress. Why won't you go to the ball?'

Dorothea sighed sadly, turning her back to her, watching the people dancing downstairs again. She shook her head and gulped.

'This crowd intimidates me. And I feel so insecure about it all.'

'I can understand that you feel intimidated by this crowd,' Annie admitted, standing by her side and watching the scene as well. 'But I can assure you that nothing will go wrong. What possibly could?'

'I am terrible at dancing,' the princess whispered. 'If I go down there, I will make a fool of myself.'

Annie laughed, confusing the young woman. Her servant faced her and laid both of her hands on her mistress' shoulders.

'Your Majesty, you can be terrible at dancing. People will not say anything, otherwise your father, the King, will make them pay for it.'

Remembering this detail, the young princess chuckled, hiding her smile behind her hand. After all, Annie was right: she was part of the royal family, and one day, she would reign over the land. Even foreigners had to respect her. If anyone wanted to become her husband one day, mocking her would not tip the scales in their favour.

A sudden feeling of pride took hold of her; after a brief hug with her servant, she eventually stepped out of her hiding place. With her hands joined against her abdomen, she walked up to the staircase, which led to the ballroom. One of the servants who worked in the ballroom saw her, and asked for the music to end. He climbed three steps and clapped his hands twice.

'Ladies and Gentlemen, Princes and Princesses, Dukes and Duchesses, please welcome our good King and our good Queen's daughter, Princess Dorothea.'

Within a second, the crowd split in two parts, one on each side of the stairwell. As for the sovereigns, they stood up, sharing a grin, proud that their shy daughter finally decided to join the party. Silence filled the room, and when the figure of the heiress appeared at the top of the stairs, all the faces, masked or not, looked up to her. Then, Dorothea proceeded to walk down the stairs slowly and ceremoniously, keeping her chin up. However, she could not help but feel embarrassed at the sight of all the guests and servants suddenly bowing down to her.

Once her foot touched the blue tiles, the guests stood upright again, smiling exaggeratedly at her in some cases. Noticing a prince stepping out of the row, she stopped and glanced at him confusedly. He bowed again and took her hand, bringing it to his lips.

'Your Majesty,' he spoke in an Austrian accent, 'this is such an honour to meet you at last. I have been longing for this moment as soon as I first heard about your existence. Rumours were true, you are one of the most beautiful creatures that has ever walked this world.'

Her cheeks suddenly turning a bright shade of pink, she turned her head to her left to avoid looking at him. That was when she noticed him. Standing in the middle of the crowd, a young man was gazing at her in awe. A wide white ruff collar surrounded his neck, lifting the slightly dishevelled blond hair at the back of his head. Near his left eye, a small checked pattern has been drawn right on his skin. From where she stood, she could not see his costume in its entirety, since it was hidden by the flamboyant costume of the black-haired man standing before him, with long peacock and ostrich feathers sticking out of his shoulder.

As she felt the Austrian guest kissing her hand again, she took it back and stepped forward, ignoring him. She went up to the small stage where her parents were. She curtseyed to them and went to stand next to her mother, while the orchestra started to play another melody. Nervously watching the couples dance, she fiddled with her hands. Suddenly, the Austrian guest stood before her with a toothy grin.

'Your Majesty,' he cooed exaggeratedly, 'will you dance with me?'

'No, kind sir,' she answered after a few seconds of silence, 'I will not. Please forgive me.'

Quite disappointed, the man bowed down nonetheless and walked away. When her eyes landed back on the crowd, she gulped and unconsciously searched for the blond man she had spotted among the other guests. She wondered who he was, and where he came from. Much to her relief, he did not seem to be dancing with another woman. Incidentally, he did not seem to be anywhere near either.

'Darling?' her mother's voice rose next to her.

'Yes, mother?'

'Why did you decline the invitation of the Austrian guest? Don't forget you have to dance with a male guest at least once this evening.'

'I know, mother, I am sorry. I felt embarrassed, that is all.'

The Queen shrugged with a chuckle. She could understand more than anyone else what her daughter could feel; after all, she too had been a princess one day, promised to marry a prince. But she knew that her shyness would certainly touch her suitors.

Dorothea was looking down at her hands with a blush when she heard someone clearing their throat in front of her. She looked up and refrained from gasping and smiling at the same time.

It was him. The man in the crowd.

This time, she could see his entire costume, and she had to admit she was quite amazed by it. It was a sober version of Harlequin's suit, mostly black, with white seams and golden patterns. The puffy cuffs at the end of his sleeves tickled his palms, and hid most of his hands. His legs were covered with black tights, while his feet were buried in bright white boots.

The man smiled lopsidedly, making her heart leap inside her chest. She watched him bow down and reach out his hand.

'Princess Dorothea,' he saluted her in a husky voice. 'Please allow me to take you to the dance floor for the next dance. I would probably be the happiest man if you kept me company, even for a short time.'

Dorothea glanced briefly at her mother, who nodded in approval, then leaned in, as though she was telling him a secret.

'I would love to, sir, but I am terrible at dancing.'

The man laughed softly then leaned in as well, whispering into her ear.

'My dancing skills are very poor too, Your Majesty. However, I am more than willing to try and improve them with you.'

With a giggle, she stood upright and gave him her hand, which he kissed tenderly. Although it had been an awful feeling with the Austrian man, it felt different this time. She stepped off the stage, then held on to his arm he was offering her. Without a word, only with a smile, he led her to the dance floor, deep into the crowd. The music came to an end, and while the musicians were getting ready to play the next piece, they just stared at each other awkwardly. With amusement, she noticed she was just as tall as he was, perhaps a bit taller even.

As one of the musicians announced the beginning of the next piece, Dorothea curtseyed to her partner, while he bowed to her. As soon as they stood upright again, they held hands and started to dance to the old tune which was filling the room. They stepped forward, then backward at a slow pace, then sideways, without breaking eye contact. The only times they did were when he made her do inside turns, or when they had to turn their backs to each other, without letting go of the other's hand.

Dorothea admired the way he moved; although he had told her he was bad at dancing too, he appeared confident, and each of his moves was made gracefully. Besides, he was gazing at her like no other did; every man she had met looked at her like a piece of meat, like a prize that would potentially grant them the rank of future king. This young man did not seem to care about her status, or even what her status could bring him. The fact that he actually conveyed the impression he was enjoying himself was heart-warming and reassuring. She was tired of being only an object to others.

For a few more minutes, they spun around each other, taking steps in every direction and turning under each other's arms. Each time he took her hand, he did it with infinite gentleness, and his blue eyes were laid innocently on her, not wandering away and not inappropriately.

Sooner than she thought, the piece came to an end, and all the dancers stopped to applause. With a dreamy sigh, she applauded too, and her dancing partner bowed to her once again.

'Our dance went beyond my expectations. You said you were terrible at dancing, but the only thing I saw was an elegant dancer. May I have the pleasure to dance with you a second time?'

'Of course,' she answered joyfully.

Violins started to play again, replying to one another in an uplifting waltz. The stranger took her by the waist, while holding her extended hand. They started to spin, keeping an appropriate distance between each other, and Dorothea let herself be led by the handsome young man.

'Kind sir,' she broke the silence, 'will you tell me your name?'

'Of course, Your Majesty. I am sorry that I did not say it before, how rude of me. My name is Roger Taylor.'

'Are you a tailor?' she asked, surprised.

'No, I am not,' he laughed. 'Ah, please, let me say it to you again: you really are an elegant dancer.'

The corners of her lips rose until the words of her servant came back to her mind. Nobody could criticise her, otherwise her father the King would make them pay for it. What if Roger was mocking her, but knew he could not explicitly tell her about it?

Noticing that she was looking away, Roger frowned and looked at her worriedly.

'What does ail you, my lady?'

'Oh, I was thinking about what Annie, my dear servant, told me before I came, to reassure me about my dancing. She said nobody could criticise me, otherwise the King would make them pay for it. People can be hypocrite around me. Are you one of them?'

'Wh... No, Princess, never,' he replied with honesty. 'I could never think bad things about you. You are far too enchanting to make me despise you. When I saw you walking down those stairs, and when you looked at me... It was just as though you were casting a spell on me.'

Dorothea smiled shyly and let her eyes meet his once again. Although she could not see hers, she knew there was a sparkle in them.

'I had always thought spells and enchantments were bad things.'

'Not in your case. When it comes to you, it can never be negative.'

The waltz stopped, and they both bowed to each other, applauding the orchestra once again.

'I have spent an amazing time dancing with you. Thank you for granting me your company. I wish you a very good night, Your Majesty.'

Roger took Dorothea's hand and kissed it under her desperate gaze. As he started to walk away, she caught him by the hand, letting out a gasp. He turned to her abruptly, quite surprised by her gesture. She stared at him fearfully for a second, feeling her face heating up.

'Please,' she begged calmly, 'take a walk in the gardens with me.'

'I would be pleased to do so, my lady,' he nodded happily.

Dorothea took his hand and led him out of the dancing crowd. After she made sure her parents were busy with other people, she sneaked out of the castle with Roger. As they made their way through the gardens, the music and the hubbub of the ball faded progressively behind them.

A few clouds ornamented the deep blue night sky, hiding the full moon; as for the countless stars, they were visible nonetheless, which made it a gorgeous night. The moonlight shone upon the towering castle, as well as on the variety of plants growing silently in the gardens.

Roger followed the princess through the impressive gardens of the palace, which he had heard of so many times without actually seeing it. And there it spread in front of him, flamboyant despite the lack of light. It was almost as breath-taking as the lady strolling about beside him. He turned to her, unable to stop smiling.

'Your Majesty, may I ask you something?'

'You just did, Sir Taylor,' she giggled. 'But yes, you may.'

'What do you like to do in your free time? Do you have any passion?'

Her heart leapt inside her chest. She could almost hear it beating in her ears. His two questions definitely showed his interest in her. All the other men she had met would not bother getting to know her better. He did. He did bother.

'Mh, I love reading and writing poems,' she answered with a grin. 'Also, I like to sing.'

'Oh, really? Wow. Could you sing one of your poems for me?'

'Oh no, I could not,' she laughed. 'I cannot remember all my poems, and I cannot even think about one in particular. Besides, I would not like to embarrass myself.'

'You would not, Princess.'

She chuckled and stared at her feet for a few seconds. Realising he had broken the ice between them, she decided to ask him questions as well. He was too gentle and too kind to be neglected. She wanted to know more about him too.

'What do you do for a living?'

'I am an artist,' he announced with a grin. 'A musician, mainly. I can also sing. I write my own songs and poems as well. I would be curious to read yours, and you could read mine.'

'That would be lovely! What do you like to write or sing about?'

'Love. And things that I find unfair in this world. Perhaps this is not the right thing to say to a member of the royal family, but that is what I do, I do not want to lie to you.'

'Oh no, don't worry. I like to write about those themes too. However, I would like to add another topic to my writings and to my experience.'

'What is this topic?'

'Travel. I have never travelled in my life, which is something I deeply regret. I would like to visit other countries and lands. I would like to learn about all those cultures I read about in books. Unfortunately, books don't teach us everything. The only good way you can learn about traditions is to meet those who perpetuate those traditions.'

'I have travelled a lot. I have learnt many things abroad.'

'You have?' she gasped admiringly. 'Please tell me about what you saw.'

She took her hand and led him to a nearby stone bench, on which they both sat. She turned to him with a wide smile, running a hand through her dark brown hair. Roger cleared his throat and stared dreamily into space.

'I will tell you about France. I went there many times already. Their culture is just as rich as ours, perhaps even more. I sang in many castles in the Pays de la Loire. There, you have such a wide variety of castles and architectural styles. Most of them date back from the Renaissance. They all are so flamboyant, even more than the castles you may see around London or across Britain. They are even prettier than Hampton Court.'

'Is there really a palace prettier than Hampton Court?' she whispered in disbelief. 'I thought it was the most beautiful place in the world!'

'You would be surprised, Princess,' Roger smiled.

'Oh, please, call me Dorothea. Forget the protocol. I don't want to be a princess tonight.'

Roger nodded and noticed her discreetly shuffling closer to him. She rested her hand on top of his, staring at him tenderly and admiringly.

'I have read many things about France. Books say that French landscapes are truly breath-taking, and that their castles are very elegant. I also heard about their music, their literature, and their dances.'

Noticing a pavilion near them, a smirk appeared on his face. He stood up and took her hand. She imitated him, confused by his sudden gesture, wondering whether she had said something bad, uninteresting, or offensive.

'I can show you how the French dance,' he suggested. 'Someone there taught me how to dance the bassedanse.'

'I would love to learn.'

She followed him to the pavilion, where he showed up the basic steps of the bassedanse. He was holding her by one hand, and stepped forward at a certain pace, then faced her, making other steps. She imitated him clumsily until she remembered the dance.

'Let's dance for real,' she whispered dreamily.

'I will hum the melody.'

With a giggle, Dorothea listened to him hum, and repeated the steps he had just taught her. Surprisingly, she seemed at ease with this dance, and herself felt confident. They laughed and dance for an hour, not even thinking about time flying by. They were living the moment just like the guests of the ball.

After a while, they both felt tired of dancing, and their legs were a bit painful. Roger did not let go of Dorothea's hand, and instead gently dragged her closer to him. She was staring into his eyes, biting her lip as her heart beat faster and faster. She rested her hands on his chest, and much to her surprise, she felt his heart beating as hard as hers under her fingers.

'How are you feeling?' she whispered.

'I don't really know. What about you?'

'I'm confused too. In a pleasant way.'

Roger chuckled and hesitantly caressed her cheek with the back of his fingers. Dorothea smiled and leaned against his hand, longing for his touch. Being just as tall as he was, she did not need to stand on tiptoe to slowly lean in, hungry for a kiss.

Unfortunately, the hubbub they had left earlier filled the night, disrupting their moment. The princess sighed and looked back at the castle.

'The ball came to an end.'

'Which means that I must go,' Roger admitted painfully, keeping her hand in his. 'We will meet again, I promise, unless you do not want to.'

Dorothea laughed softly.

'It's an order.'

'In that case, I can only obey to my princess.'

Roger pulled away from her reluctantly, and walked out of the pavilion, without breaking eye contact with her.

'Good night, Dorothea. I am looking forward to seeing you again very soon.'

'Good night, Roger. I will miss you dearly. I already do.'

'You will haunt my thoughts. I will not stop thinking about you. If I do, I might as well be sent to Hell.'

'Oh no, don't say that, you won't.'

With a last wave of a hand, Roger walked away under her sad gaze. Once he was out of sight, she went back to the castle, saying goodbye to the guests she encountered, including the Austrian. She wished her parents good night, then went upstairs, meeting Annie on her way.

'How did the ball go, Your Majesty?'

'I danced with a young man, Annie. A very charming young man.'

'What was he like?'

And Dorothea told her servant about the evening she had spent with Roger, showing her the steps of the bassedanse. Annie congratulated her and helped her remove her dress so she could change into her white nightgown. Once she was done, she wandered in her room, being far too excited to sleep. Seeing that the clouds that obscured the moon were gone, she opened the golden-framed doors leading to her balcony, so she could gaze at it until she would be exhausted. She rested her elbows on the stone and watched the sky dreamily, picturing Roger's face inside her head.

Branches cracked beneath the balcony, startling her. She gulped, fearing that it might be a wolf, since one had wandered around the castle a few days earlier. The leaves of the bushes shook, and something came out. However, it was not a wolf. It was human.

'Dorothea? Is that you?' a voice whispered in the cold night.

She squinted her eyes and gasps happily when she recognised the man. It was Roger. He stepped out of his hiding place and looked up at her, smiling from ear to ear.

'What are you doing here, Roger?' she chuckled, feeling her heart getting mad.

'I could not wait until our next meeting. I am so sorry that I scared you, I should not have sneaked in the bushes. That was a bad idea.'

'I forgive you. I could not wait either, to be honest with you. I already missed you so much, like I told you.'

'I promise we will meet again. I feel like I cannot spend any minute far from you now.'

'Really?'

'Really. This is why I came. Besides, I did not want to leave unless I had wished you good night properly.'

'What do you mean properly?'

Footsteps sounded nearby, and Dorothea knew they were not Roger's. As for him, he quickly hid in the bushes again, waiting for the people to go away. They were only two guards passing by, chatting about the ball, and they did not seem to have noticed anything wrong.

Even though they were far, Roger did not come out. Convinced that he was gone, Dorothea let out a desperate yet dreamy sigh, ready to go back inside. Luckily, that was the moment Roger chose to jump out of the bushes, making her heart leap in her chest. She went closer to the edge again and watched him climb skilfully to her balcony. He stuck his foot between two columns and held on to the stone, and leant in. He pressed his lips against hers ever so sweetly, cupping her face with his free hand. Dorothea kissed him back, her cheeks burning as well as her whole face.

When he pulled away, Roger smiled and kissed her forehead.

'Good night, Dorothea. Don't let the bed bugs bite.'

'Good night, sweet Roger. Please come back to me soon.'

'I will. I love you.'

He waved at her and jumped from the balcony, which – fortunately – was not very high. He blew her a kiss then disappeared into the night, leaving her awestruck. Her eyes looked up at the moon, which was the only witness of that tender moment she had just had with the young man in the Harlequin suit.