He left a fleeting kiss against my lips and I moaned into his mouth. We made love on our bed, forgetting everything around us for a few hours. I lay in his arms afterwards and he toyed with my hair, gently twirling blonde strands of it around his fingers. I felt wanted and beautiful with him, but the pressure of my last dance was building. It would happen soon, he’d told me. I only had two weeks left to prepare.
He let me rest that day. When I walked to the balcony that evening, I finally saw the aftermath of the rose garden.
It was burnt to a crisp, all the beautiful rose bushes gone. Even the trees were ruined, the cherry and apple trees nothing but stumps smoking ash. It broke my heart to see the garden that way, and I wondered what the sight of it had done to Thorn. I wasn’t sure whether he’d be able to stay in the Mansion now that this had happened. But I didn’t question him. I stayed by his side, knowing that I would continue to do so until the end of time.
The next day I had my first training session alone with Madame.
At first, I was worried. I had convinced myself Carina’s presence made me a better dancer because it brought out the competitive side in both of us. But now, with just Madame and myself, dancing felt natural, and I soaked up her advice like a sponge. I spun and twirled and jumped, executing every part of my routine with beautiful precision and earning compliment after compliment from my teacher.
Hours later, I was exhausted. Madame could tell, and she got some lemonade delivered and led me out on the terrace. Thankfully, the studio terrace didn’t face the rose gardens but the ocean instead. We stared out at the water, neither of us saying a word for a long time, just listening to our thoughts as we sipped the cool lemonade from frosted glasses.
“I always wanted to be a ballerina,” Madame finally spoke up, and my eyes went to her curiously.
She looked beautiful that day, with her hair pinned up in a way that wasn’t as strict as she usually wore it. She was a beautiful woman, I realized. Not just when she was younger but even now, still stunning, still as elegant and graceful as she must’ve been as a young girl. But there was an air about her now, an air of hurt and pain I’d never managed to penetrate.
Looking at her profile, I realized I’d never bothered to find out more about her, to discover her story. Yes, she was a mystery to not just me but every dancer at our old London studio. But I had no doubt her story was the most interesting one of all.
“Madame,” I said softly, and she turned her eyes to face mine. “Are you happy? Here, I mean. Are you happy here?”
She pondered her answer for a second before replying, “I am content, Rose. I am happy for my brother and you. I am more fulfilled being by your side here than I was in London. But I’m afraid I haven’t been happy for a very long time.”
“Why?” I asked softly, not really expecting an answer but desperate to hear it nonetheless. “Please, tell me.”
She gave me a little smile and a wink.
“Why?” she repeated. “The answer is simple, my dear… Just as it always is – a man.”
I listened as she started telling me a story. A story more twisted and dark than my own, a story that painted her in a completely different light and told me things about her that I’d never known. It was beautiful and heartbreaking and sad, and I hurt for her, feeling the pain of her own heartbreak as a tear slipped down her cheek while she was talking. I couldn’t imagine the pain of going through what she’d been through. I couldn’t imagine losing the man I loved… The mere thought made me anxious, and on an impulse, I reached out for her, my hand wrapping around hers, my eyes asking for forgiveness for every time I treated her badly, for when I was being a brat. I hadn’t known, I tried to convey. I hadn’t know what she’d gone through. If I had, I would’ve offered her nothing but love…
“Don’t feel sorry for me, Rose,” she said with a simple smile. “I am lucky that I got to experience love at all. Some people never know the pleasure we’ve had, you know that?”
I instantly thought of Carina, of Amber, of Pia. All victims of my own love story. I would spend a lifetime hating myself for what had happened to them, but in the end, I was a selfish woman. I cared about Thorn, and only Thorn. I realized as time passed I was made to serve him. It completed me.