“You should go to bed, sweetie, you look exhausted.”

Sarah smiled wanly at her stepmother. She was exhausted. Even though she had been making a special effort to get a moderate amount of sleep this month to be in tip top shape for graduation, she woke up every morning feeling as though she had run a marathon.

“I think you’re right. Tell dad goodnight for me.” It was only seven o clock, but her eyes wouldn’t stay open any longer.

She trudged upstairs, feeling like molasses. Her entire body weighed twice what it normally did, and the air itself was pressing down on her unbearably. She had enough energy to close the door and open the window to let in a breath of fresh air before she collapsed on the bed, snoring.

More so than usual, the boisterous partygoers were annoying the crap out of her. Her dress was tight and hot, and the bell sleeves and hoop skirt were beginning to look a tad ridiculous. No 18-year-old in her right mind would allow herself to be dressed up like such a doll. She didn’t bother to look for him; he was in the crowd somewhere. Why search?  He would show up eventually.

She sighed and tried to smooth her fingers through her hair, a gesture that was usually calming. Instead the vines that decorated her hair so delicately caught and pulled on her curls. Frustrated, she began to yank them out one by one.

“Are you all right, my dear?” he asked, his breath warm on her ear. She turned in mid-yank and offered a polite smile before pulling the last silver vine from her hair. She shook her hair, feeling it ripple down her back in grateful freedom.

“Just fine.  Where were we?”

He scooped her slim waist into the crook of his elbow, and led her gracefully onto the dance floor. Her unadorned hair was like black silk against the sleeve of his jacket. For so many years she had not changed one aspect of the ball; this minor difference encouraged him to draw her closer than he had ever dared before.

“Right about here, I believe,” he murmured.

“How was your day?” she asked, staring at his exotic features as if she had never really looked at him before. He laughed, a rich sound, and she felt places low in her body tighten. She frowned up at him.

“What’s so funny?”

His crooked smile was soft. “I think that might be the first time you have ever inquired about my day, dear Sarah.”

How quickly her eyes dropped to the side, embarrassed heat rising to her cheeks.

“You must think I am horrible, to always talk about myself as if that were the only thing in the world that mattered,” she whispered, “I am sorry I have been so selfish.”

Because the moment called for it, he dared to press his lips gently to her furrowed forehead, breathing in her scent for the longest three seconds of his life before he respectfully distanced himself again, the gesture of a true friend giving comfort.

“In this world, you are one of the only things that matter. If I had not wanted to listen, I would have stopped you,” he said soberly, cupping her chin in his gloved hand.

To his surprise, she twisted away, and quickly walked out of the sweeping glass doors that led to a balcony overlooking the majestic Labyrinth. One eyebrow arched in curiosity he followed her. Again, another first!

She was leaning against the marble railing, skirts blowing in the night breeze. The moonlight reflected off her dress, and gave her skin an iridescent glow. He moved next to her, waited in silence for her to speak.

“Always it is the same ball, the same music, the same dress. Don’t you ever want something more?”

“You grow tired of me?” he asked faintly, his heart in his throat. To have waited all this time, only to be rejected now….

She looked at him in horror, her rosebud mouth in perfect O, hands flying up to grasp his arm in reassurance.

“No! No, I am not tired of you! I am tired of myself, of this same evening over and over again.” She sighed. “I suppose I am being selfish no matter how you look at it. I want you to be here every night, yet I am tired of here since it’s always the same.”

“Then change it.”

She paused at his words spoken so softly for a moment she wasn’t sure if she heard him right.

“Change…the ball? But how?”

“This night, the ball, is your world. Do as you see fit.”

She stared at the moon, covered in glowing clouds for endless minutes. “Anything I want?”

He nodded. Years of practice kept his features as still as a mask, but inside he was elated. She was finally growing up…

“What would you like to do?” asked she.

Not even his mastered self-control kept the surprise from his face. Never in a thousand years could he have guessed how fast she could mature. That was Sarah though, that was the mystery and the allure that kept him chained to her night after night…

He thought. “I have always been interested in a more…vigorous…atmosphere.  But I bow to your knowledge in that department.”

She grinned at him, a look of such pure joy that he had to ball his fists at his side to keep from reaching for her, taking her in his arms and tasting her…

No. She must come to him. He knew there could be no other way.

“I have just the thing.  Close your eyes,” she said. His eyebrow arched over one glittering eye before he closed both, waiting for her next move.

In the hushed night air, the music that had been drifting through the open doors changed from a lilting waltz to a raucous band, filled with horns, drums, and a piano that was banging out a lively tune. The chattering laughter of the revelers was now whoops of joy. He suddenly felt her lips on his cheek and his eyes popped open in surprise. There she was, grinning with happiness. “Ta da!”

Sarah was wearing a revealing frock; a white silk slip that edged low in the neck and slit high in the hem. Over that was a sheer cover dress that had silver embroidery and beads in exotic patterns. Elbow high white gloves, white silk stockings, low heeled shoes and a silver sequined headband with egret feathers pluming out completed the ensemble. Her hair was in a short ‘do close to her head and stiffened into finger waves.  It was a complete 180 from her previous outfit, which was frills and lace. This dress was loose and airy, yet managed to hug every curve on her body. Even more amazing was the elegant tuxedo that he was now wearing; black trousers, a white tie, and a white dinner jacket instead of his normal finery.

“You look great.”

His manners kicked in. No sense in pushing it too far. “Thank you.”

Her grin widened, and she grabbed his hand.

“Let’s go!”

They joined the party once more.