Chapter 29 Masquerade
MASQUERADE
Carlotta approached slowly, not bothering to muffle her steps. I nearly jumped out of my skin when I noticed her. She wore a glittering black ball gown and a feathered black raven’s mask; she was not shocked to see me.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Carlotta demanded, hands on her hips. Her voice was cold—a voice I had heard her use many times, though never before directed at me. I had thought myself immune to that harshness.
She hadn’t seen my face. Perhaps she didn’t know who I was with the mask. That was probably a false hope—I had little trouble recognizing her.
“Don’t play stupid, Seraphina, I know it’s you.” Oh yes. False hope. How could I have been so idiotic—to think these masks would be an adequate disguise.
“How did you know it was me?” I continued to play stupid. Or maybe I just was stupid.
“Please. I’m not an idiot, I knew it was you as soon as you walked into the masquerade. You’re not as inconspicuous as you think you are. The question is, what the fuck do you think you’re doing here? And where the fuck have you been?” Carlotta spat, her voice a venomous hiss.
“I— I… Carlotta, I’m really happy to see you.” I took a step toward my friend, hoping against all odds, that she would believe me when I told her it hadn’t been me who caused the disaster.
“Stay back, witch.” Carlotta took a step back as she spat the hateful words at me. It was shocking to hear from her. As far as I knew, she had never bought into the witchcraft hyperbole that was constantly being spouted by Scion. What had happened in the time since I’d left?
Tears prickled in my eyes and I looked up to try to suck them back in. They caught on the newly repaired chandelier. It was as if nothing had occurred. There wasn’t a bulb out of place.
“Carlotta, I need you to know—the chandelier crash, that wasn’t me.
I don’t know who caused it, but it wasn’t me.
That’s why I’m here. I needed answers. Please, you have to believe me.
” My voice cracked. I should have known how emotional I would feel being back in this space, where my life had turned upside down.
“You’ve been with him this whole time, haven’t you?
Ciaran Fahy? I should have known. You were standing there with your arms up right as it fell, Seraphina.
I saw it with my own eyes. You did it. After the viscount gave you the silent role, did you snap?
You got a taste of fame and decided you liked it?
Did you cause that beam to knock me out as well?
Are you so fucking jealous of me that you would try to kill me to take the spotlight?
Do you even know who those three people you killed were?
Do you even care?” The hatred in her eyes cut through me like a knife. There was no coming back from this.
“Carlotta, you know me. I don’t care about fame.
I didn’t care about the silent role. I only ever wanted to be here with you, with Maren.
I don’t care about anything else. Please.
You have to believe me.” I looked into Carlotta’s eyes as I pleaded, and I could tell that it was no use.
She had made up her mind. In her mind, I was the villain.
Whatever bond had existed between us before—that was over now.
“I know what I saw,” she said with finality. “We all saw the same thing. You. Using magic. To crush my paramour under a goddamn chandelier. Oh, and let’s not forget the attempted murder before that.”
Holy Goddess. Her paramour? I had no idea who she was referring to.
“Carlotta, I had no idea. I promise you I would never do anything to hurt you. I love you.” I was stammering and stuttering as tears leaked behind my mask, blurring my vision. Carlotta didn’t say anything, staring back at me with venom in her masked eyes.
“Are you going to turn me in?” I gave up trying to convince her.
This was personal. She believed I’d killed her lover out of jealousy.
In truth, I hadn’t even known she had someone she cared about.
Her life was a revolving door of suitors, and she was always so proud of how she never formed any attachments to them.
But she believed I had killed him. She believed that I had tried to kill her, too.
I could see now. It would be fruitless to try to convince her otherwise.
“You have five minutes before I tell the viscount you are here. I don’t want blood on my hands. Do with that what you will.”
“Lottie…” I choked out her nickname, my eyes and throat burning with emotion.
“You don’t get to fucking call me that anymore.” My tears threatened to pour in earnest as my friend, my family, rejected me. “Get out.”
And though it meant I couldn’t retrieve the artifact we sought, though it meant leaving the Pentacle in Scion’s hands, I didn’t need to be told twice.
I ran. Back toward the party. Toward where I knew my friends would be.
I had to get to them before Carlotta alerted Erik de Barras of my presence here.
I reached the atrium and slowed my steps, acting as inconspicuous as possible.
My lungs burned as I scanned the crowd for Ciaran.
I was close to the dance floor, but I didn’t see him anywhere.
I was still surveying the crowd when an elegant, gloved hand reached toward me, and a familiar figure cut across my path.
Perfect. It was Seff. My disguise was bullshit. How did I think this was a smart idea? Stupid, stupid, stupid.
Seff’s white-blond hair was flawless as usual. He wore a black and green mask and a sleek tuxedo. He held out his hand in earnest.
“May I have this dance?” My eyes widened, and my heart stuttered. Did he know it was me? Carlotta had. He had to know. Speaking would have given me away completely, though. I had no choice but to take his hand.
He swept me into the fast waltz that was now playing, and we twirled across the floor.
I kept my eyes locked on his icy blue ones, not daring to look away.
His arm on my back tightened and he pulled me close enough to speak into my ear.
My heart hammered against my ribs; I wouldn’t be surprised if he could hear it at this distance.
“You know, I knew you were gutsy, Seraphina, but I truly never thought you’d have the balls to show up here,” Seff whispered into my ear, close as a lover, which I suppose he had been, once. I stiffened, not breaking stride in the dance.
“How did you know it was me?” A pang of fear sliced into me. This whole endeavour had been a horrible idea.
“You truly think I’m so stupid that I couldn’t tell it was you?
You’re wearing a tiny mask, not a fucking full body covering.
I’m pretty sure I would recognize the slut I used to fuck.
” Seff’s tone was as hateful as Carlotta’s had been.
I would not find any sympathizers among the people in this theatre.
I grimaced at what he had called me. Slut.
Witch. That’s all I was now to my former friends.
I had once considered them my family. I had considered spending the rest of my life with this man.
I had been so close to giving up everything for him.
“Seff… I’m sorry. but I’m here to find answers. That night with the chandelier… it wasn’t me. I just need to know who…” I said the same thing I’d said to Carlotta, though I didn’t expect him to react any differently than she had.
“Then you are a stupid slut as well as a murderous and heretical one.” The dance continued, as we whirled.
Seff, so practised in the art of courtly dances, never missed a step.
“Were you always just trying to get close to me? Was that a part of your master plan? To fuck me for information about Scion’s plans for the city?
And then you’d go feed it back to him?” Seff spat.
“Seff no… I… I truly cared for you. Everything between us was real. I would never…” I couldn’t believe what he was saying—what he was accusing me of doing.
“Liar. I should have seen right past that wide-eyed, innocent act. I should have known what you were from the start. No true wife of mine would have spread her legs like that—practically begged for my cock. No, I was blinded by sin. By lust. You’re a corrupter.”
I thought about what he was saying. Did it mean what I thought he meant?
If I had any control of my senses, I would have laughed in his face.
He was doling out a lot of judgement for someone who had also been present and participating in the deed in question.
I supposed that was typical male bullshit rearing its head: women would always bear the responsibility and the blame for men’s actions.
The music reached a crescendo, but Seff slowed as he steered me toward the middle of the atrium.
“I should have known the first moment you ran off with him,” he hissed, pulling his hand from mine.
He stepped back, stopping in the centre of the dance floor.
My eyes wide, my heart racing wildly in my chest, I stilled, unsure what he was going to do next.
Seff reached his hand toward me, closing the space between us.
He gently caressed my cheek, as he had done hundreds of times, as if it were second nature.
I froze, terror rooting me to the spot. People slowed around us.
Seff’s hand moved imperceptibly. So quickly I had no time to react, he ripped my mask away, exposing my face.
For a moment we stood, staring at each other. I barely recognized him as the man I thought I had been in love with. I saw it clearly now. The cruelty. The malice. The coldness.
As we stood, people around began to recognize me, gasping. I could hear murmurs, whispers and then some shouts. Seff stood his ground, staring me down. He finally raised his voice.
“She is here. Seraphina Dallier. The witch. Murderess of the Lutesse City Opera. Seize her!”
Chaos erupted. Someone from behind me tried to grab my arm—I ducked and spun around. I was a wild animal cornered and trapped, but I had claws, and I would not go down without a fight.
A crash rang out, and a scream sounded from somewhere beside me.
Strong arms grabbed me around the waist, scooping me up.
I was airborne, and I could do nothing but hold onto the body that grabbed me.
As I gripped the muscular shoulders and smelled the familiar rosemary scent of him, I knew it was Ciaran.
He had swung down from the mezzanine on one of the Scion banners; we were flying over the crowded dance floor as people pointed and shouted.
We swung back to the ground. Ciaran squeezed my waist once and let go of the swinging banner. “Run,” was all he said as we dropped.
My bones screamed on impact; I managed to land on my feet. But there was nowhere to run, nowhere to go, because Seff appeared in front of us.
He pulled his own mask off, his hair wild and mussed in a way that I don’t think I had ever seen it. He launched himself at Ciaran, fists aimed at his face.
Ciaran dodged the blow with expert grace, holding me tighter to him.
Seff lunged again, this time aiming for Ciaran’s stomach.
That blow landed, and I felt the air whoosh from Ciaran.
He was at a disadvantage because he would not let me go.
Seff punched again, and Ciaran had no choice but to fight back.
“Seff, stop this!” I cried out. But it was no use. He had gone completely feral in Ciaran’s presence.
Ciaran dodged every blow after taking that first punch to the gut. But he was wasting time. We were going to have to get out. The crowd closed in as the two men fought. Seff’s outburst was a distraction—to stop us from escaping.
“Ciaran…” I said, voice shaking, as several men encircled me.
He was locked in combat with Seff, staying on the defensive.
But as he looked back and saw that I was surrounded, he lost it.
Ciaran’s right arm wound back and landed a perfect punch on Seff’s jaw.
He jabbed forward again, landing blow after blow to Seff’s face; I swear I heard his nose break.
It took all of two seconds for Ciaran to turn back.
He grabbed me and the men surrounding me scattered—Ciaran’s menacing figure towered over all of them. He looked absolutely terrifying in his bone mask as he turned toward Seff.
A deafening crack sounded, and my ears blew out—I could hear nothing but ringing.
I turned and saw Seff, face bloodied, looking horrified, a smoking revolver in his hand.
And beside me, Ciaran had gone still. There was a perfectly round hole in his chest, just below his left shoulder. Seff had shot him.