Indeed, Said She: A Short Romance

I wrote this short story when I was sixteen, in as best a Shakespearean style as I could muster, without having read a single sentence of him myself. To any Shakespeare fans, I sincerely apologize for the modern butchery of his dialect. I hope you all enjoy, and visit my Patreon if you feel inclined to support me more. :)

Indeed, Said She
By Cyrus Troy

I was there, and ne'er my days in this world of beauty had I chanced to attend such splendid revelry.

My eyes saw the room alight with candle flame, their flickering spirits reflecting off the golden chandeliers and various jewels adorning the female guests. Ladies fair as snowflakes swung gracefully in and out of the arms of their stately gentlemen, bright gowns and handsome coats ne'er further from scarcity.
My ears heard the bowing and plucking of stringed instruments in pleasant harmony, sparing the attendees from dwelling on trivialities and turning them instead to blissful merrymaking. The quiet rustling and light step of the men and women as they circled the room – intent only on the eyes of their companions – filled my heart such that it stunned me yet more.
My nostrils smelled the wondrously unfamiliar concoctions that emanated from the long dining tables heavy laden with assorted dishes. Nay could even a lanky nobleman say he did not tarry near such miracles of taste for longer than prudence' advised.
O', my heart; for with it was full of all these things, and still more as the joyous night reigned on, its everlasting life flowing forth into those who dwelt within it. And yet, even so, 'twas not the night that gives a young heart such impasse.
For I stood thence, unable to partake of my own share in the festivities, utterly stilled like a portrait of youth hung in endless silence upon a fair lady's wall. Nary a word could I speak nor motion make as the strands of my heart were plucked feverishly as the harp on a summer's evening. Plucked, no less, by the soft, delicate fingers of that same lady who had me forever locked in her portrait of me.
Yea... for there at the farthest corners of that wide space was she who had me thus spellbound. I could not speak for fear that my unworthy voice would stray, and my only sight of Heaven dispelled. I could not move for fear that my unworthy feet would err in their tread, taking from me that which I had thenceforth only dreamed.
I dare not say that God made her aware of my lengthy glance, but O! did my heart yearn to believe thus, for at that moment she turned to face me, all the radiance of her complexion neither bright nor dim, but cool and fair as a dewy breeze. Her piercing eyes laid waste to my soul, shattering all thought that had ere been centered elsewhere, leaving only that maiden to my mind. Selfishly, she took a light step toward me, knowing not that her gaze brought low my very foundations to bow before her.
Then I could help not but gasp, for it occurred to me that the look she bore was not that of destruction, but of surprise and a hidden meaning. I swallowed my fears, determining not to waste this blessed moment, and hesitantly stepped forward the paces necessary to nearly end the gap between us, exhibiting my salutations with as elegant a bow as my flustered mind would allow. I looked up at her once again, watching with awed fascination as she fumbled with her skirts in an odd manner, taking a moment to recall her wits enough to curtsy.
Then she spoke her own greeting, and none but God could describe the musical sound of her melancholy voice, its warmth persisting to the forefront of my mind and draining all other noise to nothing. I stood there without thought, my previous determination adrift in the sea of emotion my heart could not address, and I felt the shame of my distress etching color to my cheeks. As I looked at her still, I was once more fraught with amazement, for I likened that moment to a mirror as her face blossomed roses of embarrassment.
Ah, that lady fair, simple of raiment yet grand in beauty of both body and soul, I could not in ten score or twenty score years recount that feeling in my heart. It was as if, though few words had passed our lips, a bond like a strong silken thread lay between us, tied directly to my core and hers. I saw not just a woman in front of me, but her. She. My lady. That mysterious bond alone admitted to me a calm demeanor in her presence, any fatigue or previous distress erased from memory at the mere sight of her.
My heart was bursting at its seems for want and longing, but I did not wish even it to interfere in this moment, and thus I discarded all thought of myself, wishing only to admire her for what time I had thus been gifted. As such, I stretched forth my hand to her with another bow, palm upward in gesture of question befitting of the evening ball. I asked her if it be her will, that she would grace me thence with a dance, and held my breath without looking up to her. For a moment, no reply did I hear, and my heart began to writhe within me.
Then, as if by a magic that blots out all else but a spotlight upon our two figures, I felt her gentle fingers press tentatively into my palm.
Indeed, said she.
Ne'er will I deign to forget that leap in my chest as I beheld her smile, a smile I knew meant more than simply a consent to my question alone, but agreeing to see me as I saw her, and enjoying it no less. Delighted beyond speech was I as the emotion in me filled my own expression with a smile I had never deemed fit to deliver hence. Her blush rewarded me greatly as I began to take steps towards the middle, but the clenching of her hand around my fingers stilled my advance.
She did not look up as her request that we not dance out yonder but instead in this very spot came from her fair lips, followed immediately by an apology for selfishness. My brow furrowed at this, and relying now solely on my heart, I gently wrapped her delicate hand in both of mine, assuring her deeply that there was no need for apology. As I stated my complete acceptance of her proposal, her face lit up with thankfulness and once again greeted me with a rosy smile.
I moved my hands, one in hers and the other on her waist, while she did likewise, and as we each gazed into the eyes of the other, a new song began just for us. No more room, no more food, no more guests: It was just her... and I... and the music our hearts created for our unity.
We began the dance.
Her light footfalls matched mine in due pace, our bodies circling round for a time as the music progressed. As the crescendo neared, I spun her about, then continued in stride, the music increasing all the while. Out with only one hand in hers she twirled gracefully and swiftly, and I felt even that far from me was too much. My longing for her return seemed itself to draw her back into my arms as quickly as she had left, and she briefly permitted herself to be closer to me, my hand still in hers as my form almost enveloped her for but a moment. My face was near hers such that I could feel her breath upon my cheek, then away she went again.
We danced and pranced, twirled and swirled, lifted and shifted, but ne'er did our eyes disconnect, nor our hands part ways. The music soared high, and in response I took her light form in my hands and lifted her above me, transferring her gently from one side of me to another, and nimbly she landed on a single foot. The music obeyed our synchronous natures and lasted for time out of mind, or rather, where time did not exist, which is in the souls of the twain. Alas, for though this was true, even the absence of time has an end, and thus the music obeyed and slowed, until the last act was performed.
With a last mighty finale the music played, and as it ended, our dance – though it continued – seemed to slow such that I saw my hand lift hers high. Then, as the final notes of that great symphony were completed, I witnessed her spin slowly toward me, both her hands in my own, and in that single moment she seemed to me so beautiful that the word itself pales in comparison to her loveliness. Then she spun finally in to me, her back pressed against my chest, my arms wholly embracing her, and both we and the music ceased.
Then, was silence created.
We panted softly after our excursion, uttering not a word, my face once again bent down to the level of her cheek, our eyes closed. For the longest time, nothing was said, and nothing was heard. All was dark and still before us, and behind us, and on either side. It was her... and I... and nothingness.
…
Then, like a switch that lights a lamp to illuminate the darkness, we both gasped as the celebration and our senses pertaining to it returned. I opened my eyes and beheld the party once again, and heard the orchestra playing, and smelled the sweet scent of my partners hair. I let out a lone sigh and held her slightly tighter, and great was my joy when her hands tightened around mine in response. I knew then that she had felt the same as I.
Slowly, reluctantly, I let her out of my embrace, our fingers for what seemed like the first time in eternity parting from each others touch. I spent but a moment in pure wonder at what had just occurred, glancing at my lady once more to find our expressions similar, ere I recounted a thought.
'What is your name, fair lady?'
…
Timidly, she motioned for me to bend closer, and thus I obeyed. Ever so softly, she whispered an answer into my ear that was both satisfying and surprisingly, pleasantly vexing. Then, my world was suddenly turned to utter chaos and turmoil.
Ere I knew what had befallen me, the feeling of soft, cool lips pressing against my cheek bereft me of any senses at all, likely due to the fact that in that instant, my heart was stolen. If Aphrodite of the Rose had seen me then, she'd have giggled with delight at my hue. I turned with mouth agape toward my companion, only to see the back of her gown and a sidelong mischievous smile as she ran hastily out of the room.