Taranheim 181

Paris couldn’t apologize enough for hitting me. He couldn’t even remember it, but he nonetheless threw himself on his knees and begged my forgiveness.

I forgave him. I kissed him as many times as I felt he needed for him to recognize that my forgiveness was real.

I looked at his wrists in the morning while he still slept with trembling hands. His eyes fluttered open after a moment and he pulled me close. “There were times when I just felt so lonely. Everyone else always seemed so happy—they had so many friends and found it so easy to just be happy. I had to live with sadness coursing through my very veins. I just can’t shake it sometimes. And that’s when I realized I didn’t want to live anymore.”

I screwed my eyes shut and sobbed through clenched teeth. “Don’t ever do that again. Promise me!”

“I promise…” He replied and held me closer. “Now, don’t you have a ball to organize?”

__

I did have a ball to organize. I met with Meridi two more times in the night so we could make sure everything in the plan was as air-tight as possible, and then I sent Gerta out with the invitations to the ball and that I had an announcement about it for everyone in the city.

Earlier that day, Paris had looked at both letters I had made out to humans and moths alike. The one addressed to the humans was a simple letter giving the details for the ball and asking them to join the queen in the city square for an announcement later in the afternoon. The second letter was not the actual letter I was going to send to the moth slaves, but instead a fake one stating they would have the night off.

Paris looked very impressed at my formal tone in the letters and my beautiful hand writing.

“I have the best wife in the world!” He announced and kissed me affectionately.

Those kisses melted me, even if I couldn’t get how much his slap had stung me out of my head. It wasn’t you. It wasn’t you…

I was horrified when Paris’ advisors asked to see more than my ploy letter to the moths. They wanted to see the ones Gerta was carrying before she set out with a few other moth slaves in tow. If they saw any of the others, I would be given away.

Luckily and surprisingly, Paris intervened on my behalf.

“You will not harass my wife and her lovely plans to make the city as closely knit as possible. I trust you implicitly, my darling…” He told me with a bright smile.

And, that afternoon, Gerta and a few other moth slaves who she assured me were loyal to me after they had received the star-shaped pillows from their queen (or, in reality, Gerta), went out to the city and knocked on the doors of all the inhabitants. She handed the letter of the announcement to the humans along with the information about the ball in case the human couldn’t come to my announcement for whatever reason. She also handed the letter to the moths while she was inside their houses. Proper social etiquette for both humans and moths dictated that it was incredibly rude to look at someone else’s letters, and I prayed that would keep any human from seizing the letters from their slaves.

If no one was home, Gerta would simply slip the announcement letter under the door and not risk giving the other letter to the moths. Hopefully, even if a moth or two didn’t receive the letter, other moths would spread the word to them.

And later that same afternoon, I gave the announcement in person that, by order of the king, all peasants and nobles would come and have fun at the ball.

I had three prayers, my diary. I prayed Gerta would not get caught when she passed out the letters to the moth slaves, I prayed no human would see what the letters to the moths said, and I prayed that no moth would be traitorous enough to tell a human what it said. God rewarded my faith. Gerta returned safe and sound and was not caught.

In a week, we would have our ball and my chance to speak with my people would come. I worked tirelessly at making the great hall in the castle as clean and beautiful as possible for the coming ball. I scrubbed the giant floor with the help of slaves and I also tidied up another large room (we were going to need two to be able to hold all the citizens of Nui) called a Place of Arms where knights would normally assemble if they were needed to.

Paris suggested that I keep the peasants in the Place of Arms and the nobles in the Great Hall, but I refused and said both would have a mix of the two. He reluctantly agreed. The Place of Arms was a hug place with arches formed on the ceiling supported by many wooden beams in the middle of the room. There were six stain glass windows on each on opposing walls which needed to be dusted badly, and racks of weapons stored there which needed to be removed for the time being. My phantom pains really didn’t help me in getting it set up for a ball, but at least I had plenty of help thanks to Gerta and the other moth slaves.

I decorated both rooms with beautiful ornate rugs and lovely tapestries and set up plenty of well-crafted and sturdy chairs for everyone to sit in.

All the while I practiced what I would say to the moth slaves several times and became very frustrated when I thought it wasn’t good enough.

I even practiced in front of Terry and Paul.

“What I need for everyone to do,” I practiced in my loudest and most authoritarian voice in the chapel which was vacant this time of day, “is to, for now, p-p-play… Damn it!”

Terry chuckled. “I don’t know if I’ve ever heard you swear before! You’re always so sweet and lady-like! It’s kind of refreshing to see you have an earthy side!”

I groaned. “I don’t know what to do! I’m terrible at this!”

“Calm down, My Lady. We know you can do this.” Paul assured me. “Try again. Stop reading from that parchment. Just look into my eyes and pretend I’m your people. Tell them exactly what you want to say.”

He was so kind and reassuring, just like Daddy and Mother were. His faith in me touched me deeply. I sniffled a little and tried again. I fared much better that time.

__

The night of the ball approached fast, and everything was set into motion. Peasants and nobles alike filed into the Great Hall as well as the Place of Arms (which Paul and many other guards were surveying in Paris’ place to make sure everyone behaved).

Paris sat on the throne of the large and jovial room while I stood by his side as everyone gathered inside.

After the crowd settled down and stopped murmuring, he suddenly pulled me down on his lap as he addressed the large crowd, “this event is a result of my lovely wife’s hard work. She toiled for a week to make both the great hall and the place of arms shine so that you all could be treated as kings in your own right for one night. You should all thank this lovely angel for this beautiful night.”

And they all cheered loudly for me. I shyly tucked my head away into Paris’ shoulder and he tightened his arms around me as the crowd laughed and cooed that I was sweet and humble. Paris kissed my cheek.

In a moment, musicians began playing their flutes, violins, and other instruments and the crowd began dancing.

I kept track of Terry, who was dutifully asking many girls his age to dance and pretending to be rejected by them, which made the young ladies look utterly confused.

I had coached him on how to cry on command, and I thought he had gotten the hang of it in the week we practiced.

“So this is what girls do to get what they want…” Terry commented the first time I showed him. “Life is so easy for you!”

I made a face. “How about you spend eight years in a cage? Now, what you need to do is think of a time in your life when you were incredibly sad and use that to your advantage. You need to live that moment again.”

It took several practice sessions, but he eventually got the hang of it. Terry was far too tough to take to it immediately.

Paris suddenly whispered in my ear and brought me out of my reverie, “would you like to dance with me, my darling?”

“Of course, my love!” I said eagerly. I stood up first, and then Paris linked his arm in mine and we walked down the many stairs that led up to the throne as elegantly as possible—until I nearly slipped nervously and Paris had to catch me. Some of the crowd below noticed and laughed, but not in a cruel manner.

Of course, I still didn’t really know how to dance. Terry had tried to teach me all those months ago, but he didn’t really know how either. Paris did, however. He led and looked like the regal gentleman I knew him to be. My heart thumped wildly with joy and elation. This was one of the things I had always wanted; to have a dance with the prince of my dreams at a cheerful ball.