by B B Reed
Edward grinned, waving at the pair as he approaches, “My lord, enjoying the party so far?”
“What have you come to bother me with this time, Ed?” The thin nobleman rolled his eyes.
“I’d like to introduce you to an associate of mine. Miss Maris, this is Lord Calyrien Moreaux, of House Mistral.” Edward stepped aside.
She bowed at the sickly man, putting on her most proper poise and greeting, “A pleasure, my lord.”
“Oh, I’m terribly sorry that your parents pinned such a grotesque name to you.” Calyrien replied, worry creasing his face as he sizes Halena up.
Halena blinked in shock, stammering, “Excuse me?”
“I’m sure life is tough for you, poor thing. Whoever dressed you must have despised you as well.” He added, the blonde steward to his shoulder running his hand over his face.
No words came out of her mouth, utterly stunned. Halena’s jaw set together and she looked to Edward, “Well, if Ed was kind enough to give me assistance instead of spreading lies about me, I’d have found a better dress.”
He shook a finger at the witch, “No, no, dear. You see, nothing can fix the mess that you look like now. In fact, lies may be the only way some people might tolerate you.”
Ed stepped between them, “My lord, she’s merely jesting. I’d never lie about someone, much less a lady.”
“Perhaps you’d like to enlighten your boss about me being your lord’s new archivist when we visited the college?” Halena bit back, nostrils flared.
Calyrien squinted, moving past Edward to look at Halena with an appraising eye, “My archivist? Well, you’re a terrible one at that! When was the last time you showed up for work, hm? What am I paying you for? My libraries are a mess!” He stopped, righting himself as much as he could against the support of his cane, wobbling, “No, you know what… You’d make it worse because you’re a simpleton! You’re fired, and I don’t want to see you step foot in my house again!”
Halena shrunk away from Lord Calyrien’s outburst, teeth worrying into her bottom lip. The lordling waved for his attendant, shuffling away, “Come, Adrien. I fear I’ll catch the idiocy if I linger near it too long.”
In stunned silence, she watched Lord Moreaux depart with his steward as if nothing more than a simple goodbye had been given. A handful of eyes and heads had turned to watch the scene, quieting. She glanced up to Edward, expecting him to explain himself, but found the gentleman to be just as speechless. Halena threw the remainder of her drink in his face and shoved the empty glass into his hands. He avoided eye contact, keeping them down as he struggled for words, “I, ah… I should go speak with him. Enjoy the party, Miss Maris.”
Edward weaved his way through tables and nobles to catch up to his counterparts, leaving Halena by her lonesome. She trembled with frustration as she pushed through guests towards their table. As Halena was about to sit down, she noticed a sudden hush fill the room, and a mortified flush of embarrassment readied itself, wracking through her muscles. Was her fuming and Calyrien’s lashing that noticeable by the other nobles? Her eyes darted around, expecting the birds, hounds, and lions to be turned on her at that island of a table. Instead, most of the party’s back was to her, the whole room’s attention directed to the double-doors of the entrance.
She rose up from her seat to look through the feathers and colors. A man with a white mask decorated with waved spikes, a design reminiscent of the sun, stepped forth with a scroll in hand and unfurled it, “By the grace of the Five, we have been blessed to receive her Highness in these halls. May Israfel’s ballads anoint the band’s instruments to play the purest of music, and Rahab keep the clouds at bay, so that we may all take part in tonight’s revels in contentment. Uriel, stay the hands of our enemies so that we may enjoy the gracious festivities by House Astor. I present to you all… Her eminence, Queen Daniella Pentaghast!”
The room came to life with a polite storm of clapping to welcome the esteemed guest. An entourage of white hooded figures accented with gold entered through the doors, faces obscured by the garments over their heads. Halena reared up on the tips of her toes to catch a glimpse of the queen. What appeared to be a doll dressed in white and gold rested in a strange chair with spoked wheels affixed to the sides was pushed by the attendants. Her face was obscured by a jeweled veil, save for the faint pinkness of the doll’s lips. The sea of noble partygoers parted for the queen as she was driven to the long table at the head of the ballroom. As she passed by, a chill ran up Halena’s shoulders as she stole a glance at the sleepy and gentle visage of the queen. Daniella’s chin tilted up, almost in acknowledgement to the witch. The cold stillness that wrapped around Halena’s chest faded away when another round of clapping broke the tension. Hushed muttering from a pair of birds slipped through the roll of applause, “So the crown lives after all. Perhaps she should have been left at the castle, lest she drops dead in the middle of dinner.”
The procession made their way to the long table, a man in royal purple robes trimmed with fine fur about the collar welcoming her majesty up to her seat. He knelt before her in ritualistic fashion, though the woman hardly moved in acknowledgement of his presence, then is seated at the table’s center. The opulently dressed man rose, holding his hands out to the audience, “It is quite an honor to receive her majesty on this evening of revels. I, as well as the rest of House Astor, welcome you all to my home. As much as we should celebrate for the sake of celebration itself, I dedicate this evening’s festivities to the resolutions struck with House Traille. We look forward to many years of cooperation with our new Ministry members. I, Lord Vaughn, decree that all present tonight may eat, drink, and be merry!”
Celebratory applause rose in the room as Lord Vaughn bowed and took his leave of the host’s table. She watched their host mingle below on the ballroom floor, soon recognizing a familiar face take his side. Despite the simple, featherless mask covering their eyes, the green colors and loose bun of white-gold hair atop their head could only belong to the Manin mistress, Elspeth Miriam.
“You’re back so soon. Enjoying the party, dear?” Lady Jeanne’s voice came from behind Halena, making her snap around.
“I am. I just wanted to take a quick rest and get my bearings.”
Lady Jeanne held up a half-empty glass of wine with a coy smirk, “You can always rely on liquid courage if you’re skittish.”
“I’ll remember that.” Halena smiled, making note of the tinge of red spread across her lady’s cheeks.
The noblewoman emptied her glass and licked her lips, “Don’t let me catch you sitting here for most of the party. It won’t pay to be a stick in the mud.”
She made off into the mingling crowd with her token swagger. Halena narrowed her eyes at Lady Jeanne’s loose movements, muttering to herself, “You call that work?”
The witch rose from the table, looking back to the host’s table, Lord Vaughn had disappeared into the sea of revelry, and the queen unmoved with her guards at her sides. Her nerves tingled, the sensation of being watched rising the longer she watched and walked off towards the back. Halena sighed, “I should check on Inka.”
She searched through the crowd for her friend’s azure feathers to no avail, certain she was making circles in the room while the clock burned away the night. The room’s volume dimmed. The door to the garden was held open, a number of nobles pouring out into the chilled night air. She heard Lord Calyrien’s name as a pair of gentlemen brushed past her and followed behind them. Her ire for the noble smoldered to life at the thought of witnessing further acts of snobbery from the wispy twig of a man. Halena stepped outside into the garden, a small group forming on the patio. Again, she caught sight of his steward’s messy blonde hair standing amidst them. Lord Calyrien was the center of attention and a thin smile on his pale, youthful face. Behind him rested a small trunk in the grass, locked tight, and his dark eyes scanned over his fellow nobles. Edward soon joined him, followed by another pair of costumed ministers. A man and woman adorned
with hound masks, both appearing to be in their late twenties.
The sickly lordling cleared his throat, “My fellow ministers and colleagues, I’m sure you’re eager to know what’s in the trunk, but I must ask you what have we accomplished as of late, hm?”
His eyebrows rose in expectation, then the masked stranger stepped forth, his dulcet voice ringing over the garden, “We’ve kept the peace, have we not? We’ve maintained the integrity of this great kingdom despite strife from the rabble below. Five years ago, the Dawn Revolt came to a close, drawn out for much too long than necessary. Then, just this year, one of our own falls from grace to be put at the stake.”
Calyrien frowned, shaking his head in forced, nigh-mocking sympathy, “Do we wrestle so slowly with our brothers again if another uprising were to happen? Will we still be able to defend ourselves should the Ymirkin decide to cross the borderlands into Arram?”
Mutterings about barbarians coursed through the crowd, resenting sounds colored with scoffing disgust. A cat-faced woman shook her head, “Brutish skinwalkers…”
The sickly noble shrugged and tapped the trunk with his cane, “With the help of the Blackmoore Trading company, my family’s mining operations joined with Cabralen ingenuity, Arram may be able to stay one step ahead of our foes. Savona and Logan, I cannot thank you enough for your support.”
He performed a deep bow for the pair standing across from him and then waved to his steward, “Adrien, if you would.”
The rugged steward knelt down and unbuckled the trunk locks. A glint of metal caught the light, and Adrien rose with a small device cradled in his hands, crafted with a wooden handle and a long cylindrical tube stretching out from its mounting. The man assumed to be Logan Blackmoore curled a wicked grin, “Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you with the new age of warfare, fueled by black powder munitions. If you would, please cover your ears!”
Everyone took his command with a start, bringing their hands up to their ears as they watched Adrien. The tall steward pulled back the hammer on the weapon’s rigging and took aim at a simple white plate set up in the garden. Halena’s heart leaped in her chest, a cracking bang ringing through the crowd. Smoke wafted from the barrel of the weapon, and the plate has been shattered to pieces. The shock of the crowd is quickly replaced by clapping by the audience and the trio dipped a bow. Savona Blackmoore beckoned to the crowd with a wide smile, “If you’d like to know more, we are open to negotiation.”
A gentleman in the back chuckled with his friend over a quip of morbid humor, “Quite right, if we had this for Doctus’ trial, it would have made a far better spectacle!”
The entrepreneurial trio is approached by a number of the observers, and Halena tried to feel for anything amiss with the lordling. She closed her eyes, reaching out, watching for shadows that may cling to Lord Moreaux. The effort was strenuous and she focused harder to use that sixth sense to sift through the nobles. Fingers touched Halena’s back, Inka’s voice breaking her concentration, “Did you see it?”
Halena’s eyes shot open and she turned to her friend, “You mean the display?”
“I heard something loud pop from inside. What did Lord Moreaux do?” Inka continued.
“It was some kind of demonstration. I think it’s a weapon, one man-made. He seems…clean, I suppose. Nothing out of the ordinary that I can tell.” The witch sneered, casting another wary glance over her shoulder.
Inka frowned, fanning away the sulfurous odor that carried on the smoke, “Another business venture, I’m sure.”
Halena made for the patio door, “I’ve had enough of him and his pretentiousness.”
“Oh?” Inka asked, trailing after Halena, “Tried talking to him, I take it?”
The witch grumbled to herself and Inka frowned, “You did talk to him.”
Halena searched through the ballroom, taking careful steps around the tables, “Where’s Lady Ravenwood?”
“She’s talking with ministers of House Astor last I checked. Hopefully, she’s behaving herself. A lot of wine has passed her lips.” Inka fretted.
The sensation of eyes upon her returned once in the room, and the witch did her best to put those feelings aside as she walked with Inka. A few paces away, she caught sight of Elspeth and Lord Vaughn again, slowing her steps. Halena reached for Inka’s hand, coaxing her closer, “I think the host and Miss Miriam are over there. Let’s get closer and look like you’re talking with me.”
Inka followed Halena’s gaze to confirm her sighting and nodded. They stopped a few paces away and Halena put her back to the group with Inka keeping the pair in view. She glanced over her shoulder to listen in on their conversation. A gentleman with a bird’s mask and a trimmed beard spoke with the pair, his wife holding onto his arm and dressed in a deep red gown.
“I fear too little credit is given to those in your profession, Madam. The effort you have put into making the college accessible is truly a noble task.” He nodded to the costumed professor.
Elspeth bent in a half-bow before the pair, “You flatter me, Sir Drazach. It’s a matter close to my heart. Unfortunate that policy for education is so difficult to pass.”
Sir Drazach’s wife reached out to touch Elspeth’s arm, “Lucille is about the age to begin pursuing an education. I believe she’ll be thrilled to study under the Manin once she’s ready.”
“When the time comes, perhaps I’ll have a conversation with her about it?” She grinned, “Your support would certainly be appreciated to help maintain the school’s halls.”
“Without a doubt, and we’ll support the college in the best capacity we can. More ministers should back your mission.” Sir Drazach chuckled with enthusiasm, then raised his glass in toast, “The Five’s blessings for you both.”
Halena set her jaw as she peered through her sixth sense, her focus wavering against the chilling sensation plaguing her. Inka’s eyes flickered between their suspects and Halena, keeping her chin down to avoid eye contact. Her passive glance met Elspeth’s, the professor raising her hand to wave her fingers at Inka.
“She saw us.” Inka warned in a hushed whisper, then donned her own pleasant mask to meet Elspeth’s greeting. A warm smile spread on her lips and she waved back to her, “Good evening, Elle.”
The witch opened her eyes and turned to face Elspeth and Lord Vaughn as they approached. “Enjoying yourself tonight, Inka?” The teacher inquired.
“Indeed, it’s quite the party. Thank you for sparing no expense, Lord Vaughn.” Inka bowed her head at Elle’s counterpart.
Lord Vaughn raised his glass in toast, keeping his eyes locked on the witch, “My pleasure, ladies. I aim to please. It’s not often we get to shrug off the kingdom’s worries for an evening of heavy drinking. Might as well savor it while it lasts, yes?”
Inka giggled at Lord Vaughn, “Definitely, my lord. All work and no play, as the saying goes.”
Elspeth inclined her head to Halena, “I don’t believe we’ve met. One of Inka’s friends?”
“I—I don’t believe we have… my lady.” She stammered, “I’m her colleague… Camilla, just taken on by Lady Ravenwood in the last month or so.”
“I must say, Lady Ravenwood has quite an eye for quality when it comes to picking retainers. You look stunning this evening, Miss Camilla, and especially you, Miss Serl.” Lord Vaughn added, his eyes running down the folds of Inka’s dress. Halena followed his gaze, the twinge of chills waning as she watched him. His irises flickered with a strange hunger. Glancing to her friend, she noted Inka’s cheeks grew heated with blush, letting out an uncharacteristic giggle at Lord Vaughn’s suggestive gaze. Something predatory sat behind his decadent lion mask and then his eyes danced to Halena. She felt the air around them ripple and her heart skip in her chest in the instant their eyes met, then she forced her gaze down.
Elspeth’s lips pursed as she looked over the witch, “Hm, something about you is familiar. Are you certain we haven’t met before?”
Halena shook her head, avoiding direct
eye contact with Elspeth to the best of her ability, “No, no… I’ve been very, very busy tending to Lady Ravenwood’s personal archives and book keeping.”
“I’m afraid tonight’s the only fresh air Cams has received in a week, hehe.” Inka nodded, resting her hand on Halena’s arm.
With her eyes down, Halena noticed the light glint off a piece of jewelry around Elspeth’s neck. The familiar shape of an ankh stood out to the witch, though her attention was forced back onto Elle as she continued to probe, “Don’t feel like you have to be locked in Lady Ravenwood’s library. The college will welcome you to peruse our collection, should you need it. Inka has learned much in her studies with us, haven’t you?”
Inka inclined her head, giving a curt response, “I certainly have, Elle.”
Halena’s eyes briefly met with Elspeth’s to answer, the headmistress held her in place with the same manner of strange insistence as in the library. She forced her response through her nerves, “I-I’ll do that, Miss Elspeth.”
One of the white-hooded attendants stepped up behind the pair, “Pardon my interruption.”
Elspeth stepped aside, tilting her head, “Ah, does her Eminence have need of me?”
The attendant shook his head, “No, Healer Miriam. The queen’s health has not dipped since your care this afternoon. Rather, she has requested a word with that one.”
He beckoned with his sleeved hand to Halena, both Lord Vaughn and Elspeth moving from the attendant’s way so that he could take the witch’s hand.
“Ah, well, it was a pleasure visiting with you, beauties. We’ll be out of your way.” Lord Vaughn bowed with a cheeky smirk, escorting Elspeth away on his arm.
Halena glanced back to Inka, “Uhm… I’ll find you later.”
She nodded and watched as Halena was guided towards the host’s table. The attendant helped the witch take careful steps onto the raised stage and walked her down the long row of seating towards the queen’s side. He bowed his head at the ghostly woman, “Your majesty, the dark-robed girl, as you desired.”