Makellos nodded eagerly, clapping his hands too. “Oh, I should like that very much,” he said, his blue eyes lighting up in delight. Even if it was meant for him, the little men had been so kind and worked so hard. If they could have an evening of simple festivities to lighten spirits, especially after the horror of the attack on him the day before, he was sure everyone would benefit. And now that he was aware of it, the prince could see little hints that indicated the miners were each enchanted withhim in their own manner. A pink blush, a lowering of the head to gaze at him through lashes, a straightening up of posture. Sigurd’s words echoed in his mind again.“I know that I am not the only one who has caught feelings for you.”His heart gave a little flutter in his chest, the beating of butterfly wings against a cool summer breeze.
After dinner was cleared away, Sigmund and Sigurd pulled out a mandolin and a flute respectively, and Hardwic kept the beat with spoons on the bottom of several wooden bowls and a washtub. Bernhardt stepped up and sang a ballad in a beautiful, clear voice that brought tears to Makellos’ eyes as he listened to it. Then the music changed to a livelier tune, and Dagobert and Der began to dance.
Dagobert, being the much younger of the two, hopped and spun with an exuberance that Makellos had not seen before. He offered out his hand toward Makellos, his blue eyes lighting up with hope. Makellos smiled back, taking the man’s hand and getting to his feet, and they started to dance, a few simple steps as Der, Bernhardt, and a reluctant-seeming Grimwald clapped along. When the dance drew to a close, Dagobert gave Makellos a light tug. Makellos lowered himself to one knee in front of him. Dagobert leaned in, his cheeks and tips of his large ears pink, and he pressed a soft kiss to Makellos’ cheek. It was only a quick brush, and Dagobert pulled back, ducking his head like he expected the prince to scold him.
Makellos reached up and touched the spot lightly with his fingertips. He had so rarely been touched in any sort of intimate way, especially on his face, and he could still feel the warmth there. He reached out his hand to lightly touch Dagobert’s chin, tipping the young man’s face upward so their eyes met. He leaned in and placed a soft, sweet kiss to Dagobert’s cheek in return. The little man let out a squeak, his whole body going as red as his hair, and he looked shyly up at Makellos through hislashes as he grinned. The other little men cheered and hooted in laughter, and Dagobert ducked his head again, covering his cheeks with his hands as if to push the blush away.
“Do you know more dances, your highness?” Sigurd asked, and Makellos nodded eagerly.
“Grim is the best dancer of all of us,” Hardwic said suddenly with a beaming smile. “I am sure the prince would love to see him dance too.”
Grim’s dark eyebrows came together in a V on his forehead, glaring at Hardwic. Makellos smiled a little and placed his hands together in a ‘please’ gesture to him. “I should like very much to see you dance, Grimwald.”
“Hmmph,” Grim grunted, crossing his arms.
“Oh, don’t be such an old warthog,” Der said with a roll of his eyes.
“I’m sure the prince is a much better dancer than him anyway,” Bernhardt said with a fond smile at Makellos. “Having been raised in a palace and all. Perhaps he can show us how it’s done.”
Makellos laughed as he straightened up, recognizing what Bernhardt was trying to do. He cast another glance at Grimwald, who merely glowered again. Makellos shrugged and nodded at the musicians.
Hardwic struck up a beat on his makeshift drums, and the brothers joined in after a moment with a jaunty, upbeat tune. Makellos began to move his feet, stepping and hopping, boots pattering lightly across the floor as he danced and spun. He did a complicated little hopping step, and several of the men let out a gasp of delight. “Do that again,” Hardwic said eagerly. So, he did.
Dagobert moved up beside Makellos, looking hopeful. Makellos moved his feet in a little hop, and Dagobert imitated it. Makellos did a slight turn, and Dagobert tried to do the same buttripped over his own feet. He went crashing into Der, and they both stumbled, laughing.
“Heh,” Grim grunted, getting to his feet. All eyes turned to him. His jaw was firmly set as he stared daggers at Makellos before he did the same hopping step, adding a turn to the end.
Makellos’ face lit up with a smile before imitating the movement. The other little men shouted and clapped in delight. Grim glowered a little and did another step, his feet doing a jig on the floor. Makellos did the same step back to him. Grim tapped his feet as he spun and jumped. Makellos did the same. Back and forth they danced, Makellos following Grim step for step. The smaller man was indeed an excellent dancer. His eyebrows seemed to lift as the prince followed his movements until the sour look on his face had faded. His jaw was still tight, but it had lost its harsh set, now tense in concentration. Grim suddenly leaped into the air, rotating twice before he landed again. Makellos took a deep breath and jumped too, but he only made it a turn and a half, and he tripped over his own feet as he landed, Bernhardt and Dagobert having to help steady him as everyone laughed and cheered. Der slapped Grim on the back jovially, and the dark-eyed man looked very pleased with himself. But the self-satisfied smile he turned on the prince was just a bit warmer than his usual cold detachment.
Afterward, Makellos collapsed to the floor in a gale of laughter, clapping his hands. “That was marvelous! You are such great musicians and wonderful dancers.”
“When there’s not a lot to amuse yourself, you do what you can,” Sigurd said as he tucked his flute away in its box and put it on the shelf.
“And you are quite the dancer yourself,” Bernhardt added, giving Makellos a bright smile.
“Thank you,” Makellos said, picking himself up off the floor. All eyes were on him right now, and he realized that this mightbe a grand opportunity to address them all when they were all in such high spirits. He took a deep breath and squared his shoulders, as he had been taught to do when addressing people. “I did wish to speak with all of you,” he said, trying to put confidence into his tone despite his stomach flipping inside of him.
Seven pairs of eyes watched him, and Makellos put on his most charming smile. “First, I want to thank you all so much for allowing me to stay in your home and become part of your little family. You have all been so kind, and I can never repay that kindness.”
Murmurs went around as the little men thanked him in return or batted away his concern of compensation. Makellos took another breath and continued on. “It has come to my attention that more than one of you might be fond of me, in a way that goes beyond simple friendship.”
That sent a rustle around the room, and Sigmund shot his brother a reproachful look. “You told him, didn’t you?”
“He dragged it out of me,” Sigurd said with a smug smile.
Makellos laughed softly as several others gave Sigurd annoyed looks. “Please, do not be upset with him. I am glad to finally know. If any relationships are to develop, I want to be aware of how each of you feel. It is not fair to burden you with secret longings that cannot be expressed.”
“We are quite used to navigating each other,” Bernhardt said kindly. “It isyouwe are concerned about, your highness. Your feelings are important too, and none of us wish to be a cause of pain or confusion for you.”
Heads nodded in agreement, and Makellos felt his twisting stomach calm just a little at the reassurance. “I do appreciate that, more than I can say,” he said. “I just don’t want you to think that I favor any one of you above the other. You all have becomeso dear to me in your own unique ways, I don’t know how I would ever be able to choose.”
Glances were exchanged between several of the men before Sigmund turned to him with a small smirk. “Who says you have to choose?”
Makellos blinked. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, we’re all adults here. We, as in, us,” he indicated the other miners around the table, “are all comfortable with one another in many aspects, including navigating relationships. There are no rules that say you must share your love or your bed with only one person.”
The words bounced around in his head for a few moments before Makellos was able to fully process them. And then he realized Sigmund was right. A pairing between two people was the most common form of love, but that did not mean it was the only option. And here, he was not a prince, expected to make a match for sake of treaty or power. Here, he was just Makellos. Just Snow White. He could make his own decisions, something he did not get to do often in the palace.
