Chapter 29: Having a Ball****
When Clarkent stepped into the castle great hall, he let out a low gasp. He had been there before—occasionally, even servants were allowed to go to royal parties--but the place wasn’t like he had known it. It had been utterly transformed into a ballroom.
Though the room was always decorated, now red and gold banners were hung up everywhere. But more impressive than that was the assortment of people in the great hall.
Every color in the rainbow found some sort of representation there that night. Outfits ranged from beautiful to hideous to downright bizarre. Both plain and ornate masks could be seen covering people’s faces, some of them decorated with feathers or stripes or patches or intricate designs, whereas others were plain and solid in color. But the face of every person in the room was covered. Every person, that was, except the princess.
It took a few seconds for him to find her, but when he did, his breath caught in his throat. She was absolutely stunning.
He had believed she was beautiful for a long time. There had been no question in his mind that she was a rare treasure. But now, seeing her here, wearing that white dress that made her almost glow, he thought she looked just like an angel.
But she was more than that. He realized almost immediately that she was a woman now. It wasn’t just her curves, though he felt his face turning warm when he noticed those. But there was something about the way she held herself--something in the sobriety of her expression--that communicated the change to him. She would be a wonderful queen; he was sure of that. He only wished her stepping into her destiny didn’t mean he would lose her. Of course, he reminded himself, she had never truly been his. His hand, shaking a little, made its way into his pocket, where it wrapped fingers around the necklace hidden there, drawing strength from its presence.
The first dance began, and he watched as a man in red and gold glided across the floor with Loisette. Watching them gave him an almost physical pain--he did not like how her partner held her in an almost possessive manner--but he forced himself to ignore the man and keep his eyes on Loisette.
She was graceful and elegant, her movements fluid and assured. This was *her* event, and that was very obvious as the other dancing couples flowed around her and the man in red and gold. Clarkent was glad she wasn’t wearing a mask--glad he could see frequent glimpses of her face. In case she forgot to come to him after the ball, he wanted to remember her as she was here, like a fairy flitting among fantastic monsters in a magical world where almost anything could happen--a world where maybe, just maybe, a stableboy could dance with a princess.
****
Though a part of her enjoyed the mix of grotesquerie and elegance that made up a masquerade, Loisette found the ball somewhat frustrating. She might not have had her vision obscured by a mask, but she was nonetheless finding it hard to guess at the identities of those who spoke with her.
Her first dancing partner had very obviously been Alexander. His red and gold clothing gave him away almost instantly, but the true confirmation of his identity had been a soft and almost dangerous-sounding utterance he had made: “Did you not like your other dress, Your Highness?”
She had told him tightly that she had wanted a white dress, and they hadn’t spoken much more after that, both of them seething with displeasure. Alexander’s mouth had formed into a grim line, and it was all she could do to resist the urge to break away from him. After that unfortunate dance, partner after partner had come wanting her hand, bringing her more and more frustration as she either failed to guess their identities or did guess and wished they were someone else. Sir Klaud had been one of the easily recognizable ones--his accent made him stick out like a sore thumb, and she had felt completely disgusted by the fact that she had to dance with him rather than be allowed to stomp his foot or push him over as she wanted to do. But though the bonds of propriety prohibited that, she vowed she would never forgive him for what he had done to Catherine.
She hated not having all the answers at the ball, but she soon found her interest piqued in the mystique of one thing. As she was whirled around the room by one partner after another, she had noticed a tall and well-built man in gold and blue standing against the wall and staring at her. He hadn’t moved the whole time; he had simply watched her.
She had attempted to ignore him at first. If he wanted to gaze at her all night, then that was his business. But something about the air of mystery surrounding him caught her attention and made it impossible to ignore him. Why wasn’t he dancing with other women? With a build like that, he certainly wouldn’t have been turned down by most of the young ladies in the room.
Eventually, she manipulated one of her partners so that her dance was ended near the stranger. She thanked her partner--she believed he was probably one of Sir Tempos’s close followers, though her uncertainty didn’t actually irk her for once--and turned her gaze toward the stranger. If he wanted to dance with her, here was his one opportunity. Soon, she would be facing another supplicant, and he would lose his chance. She wouldn’t try to give him another one.
As if sensing her thoughts, the man stepped forward, and she swallowed, suddenly nervous. Though she didn’t know who he was, his outfit was handsome, as if he were the only person in the world meant to wear it. The golden cape had fluttered behind him as he moved, lending him an air of majesty.
He gave her a deep, graceful bow, and he asked her in a low voice, “May I have the next dance, Your Highness?”
Loisette curtseyed, not sure why a chill was traveling down her spine. “Yes, you may,” she told him.
****
Clarkent wasn’t certain how he managed to summon enough courage to ask the princess to dance, but he had suddenly realized this was his only shot, and he had seized it. He didn’t want his only memories of the ball to be her dancing with other men.
He took her hand in his and led her to the middle of the dance floor, his skin tingling at the feel of her fingers on his. Her hand was so soft, and it fit so perfectly in his that he never wanted to let it go. What was coming over him? Why was his heart pounding so?
He forced himself to take in a calming breath, not wanting to make a fool of himself. And as they stopped and moved into position for the beginning of the dance, his eyes met with hers.
****
When Loisette’s gaze locked with the stranger, it was almost like a bolt of lightning passed through them both. His brown eyes were dark and intense, and there was something almost familiar about them as they bore into hers.
And then the music began to play, and the force that bound them broke, and he began to lead her around the dance floor. His form was not perfect, but he treated her with such gentleness that she would rather dance twenty times with him than once with a dancing master.
But as they moved, she found that silence was not what she desired, and she began desperately casting about for a conversation topic as they danced. She wanted to somehow learn who this man was. It had become urgent and important to her for some inexplicable reason.
“You are not a bad dancer,” she managed at last, unsure of what else to say.
The stranger’s golden mask didn’t cover his mouth, so she was able to see his lips lift in a smile. “You’re too kind, Princess,” he told her, still speaking in a soft voice. “I’m not a good dancer at all.”
She normally wouldn’t like for a strange man to call her “Princess” instead of “Your Highness,” but for some reason, she didn’t mind it when he did it. She tilted her head slightly and asked him, “If you are not good at dancing, then what are you good at?”
He was quiet for a minute, considering her question. At last, he said, “I am not a bad rider.”
“Are you a knight?” Loisette asked him, fishing for an answer. Horsemanship was certainly important for knights.
The stranger gave her a lopsided smile that was oddly charming and made her feel a little weak-kneed. “I won’t tell you who I am, Your Highness.”
“And why not?” she asked, feeling a little put out. It would have been a lot easier if he had just told her.
But his answer wasn’t what she expected: “You’ll be queen soon, and I won’t matter, Princess.”
****
It hurt Clarkent to admit this dance they were sharing would soon mean nothing to the princess, but he knew it was true. He wasn’t supposed to be at the ball, so he couldn’t admit his identity--as if that would change things--and he knew she wouldn’t be likely to fall in love with a stranger. That thought almost caused him to stumble--since when did he want the princess to fall in love with him? Why was he even *thinking* about love?
He moved to spin her--surprised at how much he remembered from the dancing lessons she had given him--and he winced as the movement caused him pain in his still-healing wound. He brought his hand up to his side without thinking.
“Are you all right?” Princess Loisette asked him softly, looking puzzled. “Is your side hurt?”
“I’m fine,” he said quickly, making sure to keep his voice at the same low pitch he’d been using in hopes that it would help disguise his identity. “You are a great dancer, Your Highness, and you . . . ” He swallowed, a bit surprised by his own forwardness. “You look lovely this evening.” That was an understatement if ever there was one. She outshone the sun.
A maidenly blush touched her cheeks, which merely increased her appeal, but her steps didn’t falter. “Thank you, kind sir. Are you . . . from this part of the kingdom?”
“I did not have to travel far to get here,” he replied, dodging the question by providing a vague answer. He didn’t want to lie if it could be avoided. Though this dance would be forgotten by her, he knew he would cherish it for years to come. The places where their bodies were touching as they danced almost seemed to burn his flesh. The sensation was powerful--he wanted to pull her against him, to bury his face in her hair. Where were these strong impulses coming from?
“And exactly how far was that?” Loisette asked him as he pulled his mind back to what she was saying. She was challenging his lack of details regarding where he lived.
Clarkent couldn’t help but smile to himself. If there was one thing that getting older hadn’t taken away from Princess Loisette, it was her pushiness. “Far enough that a princess would be unimpressed,” he returned.
“I hate this masquerade,” she said, pouting. “It isn’t fair that everyone knows who I am while I have to guess at who they are.”
He chuckled. “Sometimes, mystery is fun.”
“Never!” she proclaimed with a grin. “I would rather know everything.”
“I know, Princess,” he acknowledged. But his mood was saddening as he heard the song draw to a close. If only it had been longer!
They finished the dance, and he bowed to her as she curtseyed to him. Then there was a short silence before he broke it.
“Thank you for this dance, Your Highness,” he told her. He wished it could have lasted forever, but he wasn’t that fortunate.
“Thank *you*,” she returned softly, staring at him with a strange expression.
Clarkent turned and began to walk away, but her voice called back to him: “Will I ever see you again?”
He smiled at that. Twisting to look at her, he said sincerely, “I hope so.” And then he left her, retreating to the position he had been maintaining earlier by the wall.
Clarkent saw another partner go up to the princess to ask for a dance with her, but he kept his gaze fixed on her face, his heart still flying up in the clouds after what he had just experienced. She really was an angel. A stubborn, bossy, nosy angel, but an angel nonetheless.
He sighed in contentment and continued to watch her. But finally, he noticed the hour was growing late. He needed to leave. He would be meeting with the princess soon, and he needed time to change and compose himself. He hoped she would come, but if she didn’t, at least he had the memories of their dance together.
He put his hand in his pocket, and it closed on the necklace hidden inside. But as he walked toward the exit, he slowed as he overheard a pair of men speaking about the princess.
“A kingdom’s a pretty fantastic dowry for Princess Loisette, isn’t it?” the first man said.
“Why do you say that? You getting ideas?” the other man said, chuckling. “Even with a dowry like that, she can’t marry just anyone. It’ll be someone with a title and wealth of his own--someone who’ll help make the crown stronger. That’s how these things always work.”
“Do you think it will be the Regent?”
“I wouldn’t be surprised,” the second man remarked. “He’s certainly dressed the part in those royal colors. And all the women are swooning over him.”
“Wish we stood a chance,” grumbled the first man.
“Landless knights like us can’t hold a candle to someone like him. We have to be content with what we have. It’d be nice if it was otherwise, but it isn’t, so there’s no use talking about it.”
The conversation made Clarkent freeze in place. His happiness had vanished like smoke in the wind. Why had he come to this stupid ball anyway? He didn’t belong in this beautiful world of Nobles. He had only been fooling himself when he tried to think otherwise. A princess might have danced with a stableboy, but what happened in the ballroom wouldn’t carry over to life. He was meant for the stable--not for a dance. Clothes *did not* make the man. A duck could be dressed up in a tunic and pants, but it would only look ridiculous; ducks weren’t supposed to wear clothing.
Clenching his teeth together, Clarkent touched the necklace he had retrieved from the ogre cave, and he pulled it out of his pocket. He had meant for the pegasus necklace to be a personalized gift for the princess--the piece of jewelry had been the closest he could get to giving her the flying horse she desired. But he was not supposed to be with her. There could be no future between a stableboy and a queen. And that was what she was about to become. A queen couldn’t wear a paltry gift bestowed by someone who took care of horses. A queen couldn’t have *him* for a friend.
He flung the necklace to the floor, ignoring the burning in his eyes. It had been stupid to get her jewelry. The book would suffice. She seemed to like stories, so it would be something she could read once and then toss aside. There was no need to give her anything more. There was no need to hope she would care about what he gave her.
He walked out of the great hall, his chest feeling like a leaden weight was pushed up against it.
****
Loisette’s dance with the stranger in blue and gold had not served to assuage her curiosity but to increase it. Who was he? Why had he wanted to dance with her? Why wouldn’t he reveal who he was? There was so much she wanted to know!
She danced with other men, as was her obligation, but she kept an eye on the stranger as she did so. And when he finally moved to leave, she felt a strong sense of loss. Why was he affecting her like this?
He pulled something out of his pocket that gleamed in the light. She could just barely see it due to all the people dancing and milling around, so she maneuvered her partner closer to him, nearly sighing in relief as the dance ended. She curtseyed and gave a quick thank-you to the man she had been dancing with, and then she pressed through the crowd to where the stranger had been standing. On the floor, she saw the item he must have dropped. Bending over quickly, she picked the object up.
It was a ruby necklace with a carefully designed pegasus on it. She smiled as she looked at the creature, thinking of her fondness for flying horses, and she slid a finger across the gold, marveling at the fine craftsmanship. Had the stranger lost it? Or had he thrown it down? Somehow, she didn’t feel he would have simply dropped a precious item like this. Had he wanted her to have it for some reason?
He was a complete enigma to her, which wasn’t surprising considering she had just met him. But she wished he hadn’t left. There was so much she wanted to know about him. Her thoughts turned to his strange wince. Why did she feel as if the way he acted about his side was significant? And why had his eyes seemed so familiar? It was like there was something crucial she was missing . . . .
She clutched the necklace to her chest. Unless he came back for the necklace, then--no matter what his intentions had been--she would have the piece of jewelry as a memento. It made her smile. If she hadn’t already been wearing a necklace, she would have put this new one around her neck. Jewelry was an intimate gift . . . but the night had been one filled with mystery and intrigue. On a night like this, the rules concerning what was proper could be bent a little.
She just wished she could place where she had seen those eyes before . . . .
****
Chapter 29 NotesMasquerade: Good pictures are hard to come by, but here are some photos in case you’re interested--
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An assortment of masks *
A group of folks dressed up *
A close-up on a pair in masks *
Tons of masks are sold here (I like the “Draco” mask, heh)
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Feathered mask
