Would you dance with me my lord? - Chapter 26

Hugging her thirteen-year-old daughter, Ashite’s mother spoke softly.

“I love you.”

<>

The excitement tingled down to her feet. It was like she was being held in her mother’s embrace. The child answered. “I love you, too, Mother.” Her mother’s breath held every dance. The first light she had ever witnessed in the world was her mother.

Ashite was still crying. She was pouring out all the emotions that had welled up inside her. Tears dropped over more tears. She reminisced for a moment about all the past happy memories. She liked to dance. As if there was nothing else she wanted more, she had passionately learned to dance while holding her mother’s hand.

Now. She was suddenly twenty. <> Her heart had whispered to her yesterday. <>

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It was a dark, scary, cold, and suffocating feeling. <> It whispered to her. She was desperate. She felt defeated. She collapsed.

<> Ashite got up calmly. She was able to answer that question now. What kind of pathetic question was that? She could answer without further hesitation.

<> That wasn’t possible. That was not what she truly felt. <> Ashite answered herself crying like a small child. Every breath was her mother. She needed to prove and show somebody that neither her mother or herself was dead. Her mother was still alive within her, telling her to continue on by telling her that she loved her.

<>

Her heart suddenly beat harder.

She had been so afraid. She hadn’t lost her roots.

So young. She had spent so many years suppressing her feelings, holding her breath, and killing herself, all under a mask of calm. Like a blind animal, all she hoped for was peace. She had no expectations of anyone and she didn’t try to give affection to another. She had been afraid that her mother’s fate would befall her as well. She could not stand the thought of losing someone else she loved and feared she would fall further into ruin.

And so, she had never once shown resentment or anger. She would have been lying if she said she had no negative feelings against Skara’s royal family, but her emotions had been twisted and broken long ago.

The emotions that filled her heart regarding her mother. The scorn she had received since birth. And so she had decided not to intermingle with them. She only interacted with them with her white and elegant mask on.

That was how she lived on. She had allowed L’avenant in but it was also true that they had a deep gap between them. When she arrived at Monterobis, no one had bothered her and she lived receiving respect and so it was also true that her defenses had become a bit loosened. But she still believed that she would never fully be able to be close to anyone.

It was the faintest of lights, the darkest of dawns.

But her mother had told her.

“I love you. I know how you feel, Ashi.”

Thirteen. After losing her mother, she had cried for several days and nights. She cried so much that she wondered how all those tears could come out of such a small child. Exhausted from crying, she had fallen asleep, and only after not being able to eat for several days did she calm down. Nothing was part of her routine. But when she was finally able to stop crying, she blankly headed to the dance studio as if in a trance. Lotte Beshel’s dance studio. The place where all her memories and happiness resided.

She was forced to realize the painful truth that she was now all alone. She was reminded of her mother and she could not control the tears welling up again. Her tears fell in large drops. Everything came crashing in around her so that she cried and cried until she passed out from exhaustion. That’s how it had been. And so, during the time she was at Lotte Bishel, she refused to go back to that place. She only danced in her room or at the school practice room alone. Sometimes, if the weather was nice, she would dance at the empty garden. The person who had happened to see her there then was Lante.

Before then, she had never spoken to Lante, but the child knocked at her door repeatedly. Really, it was just because of that one dance.

This exact dance.

She was determined to pass down this dance to somebody. This was the first time she had felt such determination. The rest of her life from now on would be dedicated to this. Now that she had decided to live, hope revealed itself. Maybe, there will be someone who will not look down on me or this dance. Yes, like the ancient Monterobis king.

Ashite slowly exhaled. She felt choked up but her breathing felt reasonably normal. It had been a long time since she had visited the place full of memories, and as she did when she was thirteen, she burst into tears. It had been a long time since she had cried like this as well. She pushed everything else aside and only thought of her mother as she cried like a small child. It felt like she had released all the negative feelings that had festered inside her all this time.

She took another deep breath. She placed her hands over her wet cheeks. She wiped away all the tears. Her red cheeks, nose, and eyes were a mess. But it was okay. Her mother had told her. It’s alright. Her breathing became more and more relaxed.

Even if she was to return to Skara, she decided that she would not go to the palace.

Upon coming into that thought, she nodded. <> The king was a person who would keep his promise so she was sure he would return her back to Skara. <> She had never been so firm with any decision in her life before.

<>

By myself.

She thought of Monterobis’s king. More precisely, she thought of the king’s generosity and courtesy.

Of course, she had the tact to know that she couldn’t ask the king to do her a favor. She couldn’t ask him to help her walk her own path, and either way, she wanted to do it herself anyway. She had been a weak and scared palace princess, and this was her last shred of pride she could hold on to. Of course, if the king had offered her an opportunity first, however, it would have been great.

Either way, she was unable to request anything first from him. So, she decided that after she had left the palace, she would think of a way to survive on her own.

<> After completing that thought, Ashite washed up, arranged her clothes neatly, and headed to the library. She wondered how she could make money by using her dancing skills. She contemplated this and that as she borrowed several books. She returned to her room quickly.

It was already past lunchtime. How long had she been here in the dance studio crying and lost in thought? Ashite exhaled. She didn’t know whether it was a sigh or not. She had not slept properly last night and so she wondered if she should take a nap. She lay on the bed with a light heart. Extremely tired and exhausted, she easily fell asleep.

Then, she started to dream.

Thirteen. She returned to the day she had seen her mother’s corpse with her own two eyes. At Lotte Bishel, in some room, a girl was crying inside it. It was a familiar room and a familiar girl. Inside her dream, Ashite could do nothing but stare at the crying girl as a bystander.

Her mother was no longer by her side. That’s when the child knew. Instinctively, there was no way she couldn’t. Her mother had loved her but her wish to die had been greater. Ever since the child had been born, the mother had wanted nothing but peace, but in the end, all that was left for her was death. The child was unable to fill the gap her mother had left. Her mother could not help her rise above the desperate wish she harbored to die in defeat. She had been that young.

And so, suddenly, the child’s purpose in life was to pass down the dance. She realized that she could not break away from the thought. She must under any circumstances, pass down the dance.

But truthfully, she was not confident. She had no opportunity to show her dancing skills, and she didn’t have a strong enough willpower to do so. The child thought there was nothing left for her. It was her fate to live her entire life and die in Lotte Bishel.

On the off chance that an opportunity would come her way, she had to live her life burying her true self in the hope of finding peace. Her heart continually whispered this to her like a demon. The dark shadow that grew stronger inside of her could not easily be ignored by the child. If a stranger would scoff at her, she turned away calmly and looked towards her castle. Other than circumstances she couldn’t avoid, she refused to go outside its walls.

But still, there was the dance. The child pushed away the nonstop pull of her desire.

Ashite woke up abruptly. She raised her body. Her back was drenched in sweat. It was an unpleasant feeling.

“It’s alright.”

She engraved this thought into her brain. I’m alright now. It’s all in the past. Suppressing, hiding, and destroying oneself was easy. She would not be content with merely passing on the dance but instead would use her determination to create her own path and continue to walk forward to survive. Her mother would be kept alive inside her, and her dance would live on.

The king of Monterobis spoke. “Princess, your dance skills are phenomenal,” he said. It was the first time she had received applause and a compliment from her own sweat. Each dance move that found a compliment felt like her mother’s breath was being recognized, that her efforts were being noticed. She wanted to hear more of that. When she first realized this, she knew that this had become her truth.

Due to something so trivial, the disturbed feeling she had been harboring from the dream slowly started to dissipate. She started to relax.

Ashite shuffled through her books that she borrowed yesterday with a relaxed heart. She glanced quickly through the pages and found a couple of scenarios. There were many examples of people from the royal family who had become professionals in their own specific fields. The one example that Ashite found most exciting was the one where more than a hundred years ago, the third princess of the royal family, Lubellera, had become the dance instructor in Ramon Bishel. There was another example of another person from a foreign land who had become an instructor as well. Decades ago, a Khan scholar had become Ramon Chater’s teacher.

She knew that it wasn’t impossible for her, a royal foreigner, to become an instructor in Monterobis. It hadn’t been long since the war had ended but due to the fact that a peace treaty had been established, the nations would continue on in good terms with each other. That was not only her hope but also an opportunity.

Monterobis looked upon art favorably. Dance there was also much more advanced than the dances of Skara. Monterobis, culturally, enjoyed more flamboyant things and hosted many banquets in comparison to the traditions of Skara.

It was a good thing to happen to Ashite. She was going to spend her time in this palace for a while so it would probably be a good idea to start here. There was no reason to postpone her dream to pass down her dance to others. It really didn’t matter where the location was. Plus, Ramon Bishel was the most famous art school around. She was not able to request it first to the king but she knew that he wouldn’t be opposed to the idea.

A dance instructor. How could a single word make her heart beat like this? The book had said that to become an instructor, she was required to take a test. She decided it wouldn’t hurt to take the test. They had been at war for a long time so they were short on instructors. She had a feeling that things were working in her favor. She couldn’t help but smile.

And the very next day, she came to feast with the king. They had met three times already this week.