5. The Masquerade
The Masquerade
Remme
T he music swells as the first masked guests begin their descent down the grand staircase. I fix my gaze upon them, eyes narrowed, searching for any hint.
My heart pounds a steady beat in my chest that thrums through my veins. I arranged this lavish masquerade for one purpose only - to lure the wretch who stole into my very stronghold back into my clutches. She won't escape me again.
These simpering aristocrats mean nothing to me as they preen and glide across the polished ballroom floor below. I care not for their whispered gossip or displays of wealth and status. They are oblivious pawns in the trap I have laid tonight, one far more dangerous than their petty politicking.
Only one holds my interest now - the elusive thief who managed the impossible and breached my palace defenses once before. But I learn from my mistakes. She will find no such easy fortune this time.
My eyes sweep the colorful whirl of guests critically, searching for any sign of suspicious movement, any hint of concealed intent. For now, the crowd seems composed only of the usual vain, shallow nobility trying to curry favor. None stand out. But the night is still young.
I try to calm my racing thoughts, stilling my tapping foot and loosening my white-knuckled grip on the throne. Patience is key now. I must remain vigilant and wait for the perfect opportunity to present itself. And when she slips up, I will be there to catch her in the act and deliver ruthless justice.
The guests descend the stairs, their steps light and sure. Some of them are laughing, others whispering secret words amongst each other. They all move with a grace I envy, and I admire the sophistication and confidence each one commands. I remember when that was me, long ago in my youth. Before I could no longer touch another person.
Most are people I immediately recognize. Their masks and costumes match their personalities perfectly. Rarely do I throw any events like this. While my court whispers about my greed and harsh behavior, I keep my mouth shut. It isn't anything like that. Honestly, I am afraid of accidentally turning someone into gold again, of my curse affecting another.
I see everything that happens in this room. The secret touches. The leaning whispers. The one woman in the red dress who seems to stand out from the rest and interacts with no one.
She struts down the stairs, her cheeks flushed as she draws nearer to the ballroom floor. I watch her closely, my eyes never leaving her. She is familiar, yet a stranger to me. No name comes to mind to match her with.
Is this her?
The woman walks up to the food table and begins to fill her plate. My mouth waters as a pang of jealousy hits me. I would give almost anything to taste food again. She glances around the room, her eyes darting from one guest to another before finally landing on me. Our eyes meet and lock. I can feel a jolt of electricity run through me.
For a moment, the entire room stands still. When a man in a peacock mask bumps into her, the spell is broken.
I watch her closely as she moves gracefully amongst the other guests. She is clearly a master of disguise, and despite my best efforts, I still cannot identify her. She is definitely the most suspicious person here, at least to me. The rest of the crowd seems perfectly content to ignore her completely.
As the night wears on, I my curiosity only grows. Who is this woman in the red dress? Why does she stand out so much? And why does she captivate me so completely?
I watch her from afar, studying her every move. She seems to glide effortlessly across the dance floor, her body swaying in time with the music. The same tall man in black dances with her every few songs, and she dances with no other. How I wish I could take a turn just once and talk to her. Her mask obscures most of her face, but I can see a hint of a smile playing at the corner of her lips.
She slips through the crowd and stands along the edge of the ballroom, almost as if hiding between dances. Always with some sort of food and a glass that she never drinks from in her hand. Who is she?
A yell from near one of the food tables draws my eye for a moment. I cannot see what is happening, but when my gaze returns to where she last stood, she is gone. I search the crowd for her but she is nowhere to be found.
Is she making her move now?
I leave the ballroom and head toward my rooms, both hoping and dreading that I will see her.
My heart races as I walk down the hallway, my feet pounding against the floors. Is she here? Had I been right about her identity? It is too late to turn back now.
My footsteps echo down the empty corridor as I approach my chamber doors. Pressing an ear to the polished gold, I'm met with silence - no hint of an intruder within. Still, caution slows my hand as I reach for the handle. The doors glide open soundlessly to reveal an undisturbed room, precisely as I left it. Relaxing slightly, I step inside and let the doors swing closed behind me.
A cursory scan shows nothing amiss, the moonlight cascading over familiar furnishings. But instincts honed from years on the throne keep me alert. I prowl the perimeter, peering into shadows, watchful for any sign of trespass.
There - a faint creak from the direction of the balcony makes me freeze. In three swift strides I cross the room and fling back the heavy curtains. Moonlight spills over a familiar figure, freezing her in the act of climbing through the open balcony doors.
For a split second shock roots me in place. It's her - the mystery woman in red, an unmistakable silhouette against the night sky. Victory surges hotly through my veins. I knew it!
"What are you doing?!" My voice booms through the room, echoing off the walls. Startled by my sudden appearance, she drops whatever she is carrying into an open bag at her feet and scrambles to cover it up with her skirt before turning to look at me with wide eyes.
"Nothing..." Her voice quivers with fear as she speaks, clearly trying to hide something from me but unable to find enough courage to fully meet my gaze.
My jaw clenches as I study her face. Is this the same woman that had tried to steal the Bodian crown?
"What did you take?"
She hesitates before finally speaking up again, "Nothing. I took nothing." Her voice shakes with nerves as she speaks, but there seems to be an underlying defiance there, too.
"Show me," I growl out.
"There's nothing to show."
I lean in close enough to scent the rose perfume she wears, "You should know better than to lie to your king. What are you doing in my room?"
I want to touch her. To see if she is the same woman that stole from me before, but what if I am wrong? I don't want to kill her if I can use her to find the woman.
She places her hand on my gold breastplate, and a coy smile emerges on her face. I freeze. No one has touched me—even my armor—in ten years. But this woman, standing in front of me, has the nerve to do so.
I fight to maintain my control as she looks up at me with those big green eyes, clearly trying to determine how she should proceed. I want to ask her questions, but I know it will be better if I can draw some information out of her by playing along with whatever she is up to.
"One night," She whispers, her breath warm against my skin.
My stomach flips as the implication of her words sinks in. What does she mean? I was cursed so young that I lack experience in romantic areas. Sure I have watched others court each other but I have never done it myself. Is she offering herself? Or is she planning something else entirely?
I feel an unexpected spark inside me as I consider the possibilities—if only I could find out why exactly she is after the Bodian crown...
Without warning, her hand touches my arm and then it is confirmed; this must be the same woman who had tried to steal from me before. But more than that, there is something different about her now—something almost seductive that makes my heart race with anticipation. A part of me wants to confront her and demand answers, but another part of me finds myself drawn in by the unknown possibilities that weren’t possible only moments before.
I take a deep breath and step closer to her until our faces are mere inches apart. Her cheeks flush with color as she meets my gaze without flinching.
"What is it you want?" My voice rumbles through the room, sounding deeper than usual due to my sudden change in mood.
She hesitates before finally speaking up again, "I want you."
I can't believe what I am hearing. This woman not only tried to steal from me, but now she is making suggestive remarks like this? It is clear that she is up to no good, but something about her draws me in nonetheless.
I lean in closer to her, my lips dangerously close to hers. "You're playing a dangerous game," I warn her, my voice low and commanding.
Her eyes widen, and she presses her body against mine. I can't deny the desire that is quickly building within me, but I know I have to keep my guard up. This woman is trouble. She is clearly playing a game.
"What do you want me to do?" I whisper seductively into her ear.