Dance music floats around me from the small orchestra in the ball room. Couples pair off and head to the dance floor, a sea of colorful silks and sparkling jewels. The floors of polished marble reflect the colors of the floating chandeliers far above us. Tables laden with delicate food and drink line the walls. Magnificent columns are draped with rich fabrics and tapestries. Laughter floats around with the music, a sound that goes with the smiles I see around the room.

But there is no smile on my face. The sound of the music is deadened, as are the merry sounds of laughter. Everything is cast in shadow for me. I am in no mood to celebrate.

For that is what I am supposed to be doing, celebrating, but I cannot. I look on at the crowds of dancers and nobles, the lights and colors dull and grey to my eyes. My gaze eventually finds even the King and Queen up on their balcony, watching the ball, as I am. At least there, I find a hint of sympathy, for their eyes have a hint of the dullness that is in my own gaze. But they smile for their people, unlike me. I have no need for an act. No one will be looking at me.

I politely push my way through the crowded room, my polished shoes making no sound amidst the din of the crowd. I take care not to snag my sleeve on any of the dishes or plants as I make my way to the door. Even though I myself am a Duke, no one attempts to stop me from my slow escape. It’s the King and Queen who matter on this holiday, not me.

I finally make it to the door, escaping the ballroom and stepping into the cool night air. Small lanterns floated around me, bathing the terrace with soft blue, yellow, and pink lights as they gently wandered through the air. I didn’t realize how stuffy it had been inside, until now. I could see the garden from here, empty, as everyone was inside. A beautiful crescent moon glowed among the stars.

“You would have loved this,” I said to myself. I listened to the muted music coming from the ballroom for a moment, letting myself drink in the quiet night. The fireworks would be starting soon, and all of the guests inside would gather on this terrace to watch them. Would I watch with them?

I looked up as a few couples from the ball came onto the terrace, probably going to pick prime spots for firework watching, the music growing louder as it drifted through the open doors. I looked back out over the railing at the dark garden. Making up my mind, I descended the steps that led off the terrace and followed the stone pathway to the garden gate, leaving the lit palace behind me. I hesitated slightly at the iron gate, but it was unlocked, probably in honor of the occasion.

“This was your favorite spot, after all,” I whispered to myself. I pushed the gate and it opened with a soft squeak.

I slowly walked into the garden, leaving the gate open behind me, lanterns slowly begin to glow and lift into the air, illuminating the darkness. I had forgotten how beautiful the garden was at night, with the silver lining of the moon-ferns’ leaves glinting in the light of the lanterns. Floating flower beds dripped ivy like waterfalls, and great trees softly shed their colorful blossoms, the smell of flowers and soil drifting through the soft breeze. Even though the chill of autumn was in the air, the garden would bloom all year. It was a constant in the everchanging business of life.

“That’s why I love it here,” a soft voice says.

I start a little in surprise and turn towards where the voice had come from. The girl was standing under one of the older trees, her hand resting on the rough bark. She wore a long-sleeved, light blue gown, not as fancy as the ball gowns worn inside, but it was elegant, with silver embroidery along the hem and sleeves. Her long blonde hair was loose, tumbling down over her shoulders, with a delicate silver tiara on her head.

“Cecilia?” I asked. “What are you doing here?”

She looked over at me, grey eyes sparkling in the light of the lanterns. “I always watch the fireworks from here,” she replied.

“But what about your parents? Shouldn’t you be with them?”

She smiled and walked over to me. “I’ll see them later,” she said, then she began walking further into the garden. “Come on. We don’t want to be late.”

I followed her deeper into the garden until we climbed the staircase that led to a small balcony of sorts. We could see the palace from here, as well as the lake. I could just make out people coming from the ball room out onto the terrace.

“Are you sure you want to watch from here?” I asked. “This is a celebration for you, after all.”

Cecilia shook her head with a small smile. “I always watch from here, Derick,” she responded softly. “I have a birthday every year.”

But not like this, I thought. Birthdays are supposed to be happy.

“Well, if it’s what the princess wants,” I said, smiling a little and looking over at her. She smiled at me as well.

“Yes,” she said. “It is.”

We watched the palace as the lanterns floated around us. Since the doors to the terrace were open, we could hear the music playing from the ballroom, the final dance before the fireworks began.

Cecilia turned to me in excitement. “Oh, it’s my favorite!” she exclaimed, like they didn’t play it every year. She held her hand out to me. “Would you dance with me, Derick?” she asked.

I took her hand and said, as I did every year, “Of course I will.”

She placed her other hand on my shoulder, and mine on her waist as we waltzed in the still garden, the music floating to us sounding almost ethereal. I felt myself smiling as Cecilia and I danced, feeling like we were floating with the music.

“Why did you have to go?” I asked her, my voice soft, as though speaking any louder would shatter the scene.

Cecilia didn’t answer right away. When she did, she looked up at me. “You will always find me in the garden,” she said.

At the moment, fireworks burst into the sky, showering the world with light. We stopped and turned to watch them, seeing the bursting lights not only in the sky, but reflected on the lake as well. The palace rung its bells as the second round of fireworks exploded in the sky.

“They’re beautiful,” Cecilia said softly, staring up at the sky in awe. Then she turned to me. “Thank you for watching them with me one last time.”

Then, there was another burst of light from the fireworks, but when it faded, I was alone, standing next to a statue of a girl in an elegant gown, with a delicate tiara placed on her head, marking a single grave that bore the name, Cecilia.