by Fanny Finch
At the very least, his mother had accepted his request to make it a masquerade. He knew he would survive better through the night if he did not have to wear a false smile throughout the event.
He would rather hide his gloom behind a happy mask. Ah yes. He would feel better that way.
He continued to look down through the window from the hallway up the stairs. People had begun to arrive over an hour ago. In no time, his presence would be requested.
Good thing the guests seemed to have respect for the dead. Most of them had come in beautiful dresses as would be expected for a ball such as this, but these dresses were mostly in dark colors. It was a thought Sebastian found himself grateful for.
Not to mention, the music that had been wafting through the air from the ballroom was one of solemnity. None of the jingling tunes he had feared would be played.
It was a ball, yes. A beautiful one at that, for his mother never threw any less. As much as he would be celebrated tonight, it was comforting to know that the memory of his late brother would not be so disregarded with loud music and fast dancing.
The mood had been set and when it was time, he knew he would join the ballroom, less dreary than he had been over the past few weeks of preparation.
“Oh, there you are!”
The voice was none other than his mother’s. He did not turn. At the huge window where he stood, it was easy to watch the guest as they arrived one by one.
When he moved from there, he would have to move to the ballroom and remain atop the stairs a while, to watch for himself what it was like in person.
His mother came to stand by his side. As though understanding his demeanor, she went quietly and looked out the window a short while with him. That tender moment ended when she placed a soft hand on his shoulder.
Gone was the cheery tone with which she had called out to him.
“We miss him too. We all wished he was here. Alas, he is not and we must continue forward. It is what he would have wanted. You have no idea how hard this has been for me as a mother. I cry every night, barely managing to get a wink of peaceful sleep without having dreams plagued with memories of him. Yet I awake the next morn and go about my household duties as though I had had blissful sleep filled with the sweetest dreams.” She paused as a heavy sigh slipped past her lips.
“’ Tis all a farce, my love. Nevertheless, I cannot afford to crumble in their presence any longer. Tonight, son, we merry. The pain will get easier with days. Not today, but eventually. Now, enough of that moping. You have guests who have gathered on your behalf. It is rude to keep them waiting. Come.”
Sebastian drew in a deep breath and looked at his mother, really looked at her. Guilt overwhelmed him. He had been so caught up in his grief since he arrived that he had failed to consider how much pain his parents were going through, especially his mother.
She had only ever loved them dearly, both her sons. Yet, she had had to bury one of them… watch him lying lifeless. It could not have been easy.
He could see that now. The tired lines, the dark circles around her eyes, the hollow in her neck. She had become lean, paler, yet she managed to hide all of that behind a smile or two, being so busy fooling everyone.
The sorrow in those eyes, the sadness surrounding the edges of her lips. His mother had been hiding so much pain. He could imagine that she felt even more than he did.
If she could put her grief behind all in a bid to do what was best for their family, then he could do the same, too.
Being back here in Widmore had been harder than he had imagined. He had been so sad and quiet, mostly keeping to himself. He still would not visit his brother’s grave, and settling into his brother’s duties had proved difficult.
No surprises there, he had not exactly been trying. They would leave for London in a few days. How did he hope to find his brother's murderer if he could not get a hold of himself and his emotions?
“I…” he released the breath he had been holding in a deep sigh. “I am sorry, mother. I did not realize that I was being selfish in my grieving. Of course, you hurt as much as I do, even more. You have been strong, mother. You and father both… I suppose, a part of me remained in denial as I journeyed, hoping that I would return to meet Hanson in flesh and blood.”
“Alas, you did not and it is only just now that you are letting yourself accept the truth and mourn him when we have had months to get accustomed to the truth of him being no more.”
“Precisely.”
His mother had always been so wonderful, sensible and understanding. Of course, there were days when she was demanding and more. Nevertheless, she was lovely.
Now, they faced each other. Her hand moved from his shoulder to cup his cheek in that affectionate way only she could have with him. Her other hand joined in no time.
“There is no rush. Take all the time you need. Nonetheless, as you do, never forget that you are still living and you must tend to matters of the living. This…” she withdrew her hands to make a circle.
“All of these are our legacy. The family, your people, there shall be no one to cater to them when your father and I are gone. This is your duty.”
“I understand mother, I apologize. I shall join the crowd now. You only need to give me a minute. Will you be by my side?”
“For as long as I live.”
With a kiss to his cheek, his mother walked away smiling. It was perhaps, the third time since his arrival that he had seen a smile reach her eyes so.
When she was gone from the hallway, he remained to prepare himself for what was to come. The talk with his mother had done a great deal. He would be meeting with people he had not met in a while.
Many who would be happy to see him, yet unable to hide their sadness at his loss. Thank God for masks. He would be just fine.
Removing the mask from his pocket, he took one look at it and finally wore it around his head.
Taking another deep breath, he started to walk to the ballroom.
His mother was waiting at the door that led into the large hall, just at the top of the stairs. Her back was turned to him, yet she felt his presence before her eyes found him.
She turned the moment his eyes laid upon her and her face lit up in a genuine smile once more. She waited for him to cover the three-feet-distance between them.
Her hand was waiting and she easily tucked it around his.
“Have I told you how handsome you look tonight? The maidens are all going to be fawning over you. I daresay, there shall be a contest to gain your attention tonight.”
He chuckled at this, glad at his mother’s attempt to make him laugh, although he knew there was an even more serious message lying underneath all of that. He ignored it though. There would be time for that discussion later.
“And you, mother, are the most beautiful woman in this room tonight. I do believe I shall be the envy of many men. One man, I am very certain. He appears unable to stop sending me death glares at the moment.”
His mother followed his eyes to his father’s who was down the stairs.
She laughed when she saw the look in his father’s eyes.
“Ah… you flatter me, son. As do your father with that oh so dreadful glare. The man does not like to share at all.”
“If only I could lay blame to him. It is the heartache one must suffer for marrying a woman of unmatched beauty.”
His mother was grinning wide and his heart warmed at the thought that even for this moment, he had caused her true happiness.
“His Lordship, Lord Longcross, Marquess of Northcott, heir to the duchy of Widmore and her Ladyship, Lady Leighton, Duchess of Northcott.”
Sebastian and his mother nodded at the announcer in acknowledgment and when the entire room turned to look up at them, they began to descend the stairs.
Though he had settled for a full mask, his mother simply had a flimsy feather over her eyes. Unlike himself, she had perfected the art of wearing a natural mask over her face. She needn’t hide behind another.
Sebastian hoped though, that for tonight, his mother would enjoy true happiness… as true as it could get.
“It’s going to be a lovely night, Sebastian. I can feel it.”
Those were the last words she said to him personally before they got swamped into the sea of people who were eager to meet him.
The next hour was filled with introductions, and heartfelt condolences, in addition to birthday wishes- all of which Sebastian accepted as heartily as he could.
There were several ladies too of course, all of whom his mother particularly wanted him to meet. Many of them were in masks just as flimsy as his mother’s. It was just as well. Their beauties were too potent to be kept hidden.
In fact, with the soft music playing beneath all of the conversations, Sebastian found himself relaxing into the night. These were his people. People of Widmore and Northcott. He could allow himself one night with them.
Moments like win flew, and in no time, he had to cut the cake that had been made in his honor.
Everyone officially wished him a very happy birthday- once again. And after the cake had been cut, his mother and father stepped up to him.
“It seems only yesterday that you were christened before family and dear friends. I cannot believe it has been twenty and five years since then.” That was his father. His voice was solemn, though the smile on his face was amiable.
The duke had found no need for a mask, all his emotions had been left on display all night and Sebastian had read joy, pride, a little hint of sadness, and relief.
“Time does fly, does it not?”
“Like the kite, you often pursued when you were naught but a wee lad.”
Sebastian smiled as memories returned. It was a sad smile, for those kites… he never pursued alone. Hanson had shared every memory. But, it was not a night to be sad, was it?
Yet, the irony was not lost. Only a few months ago they had mourned death, now they celebrated life. This was the existence’s entire essence. To be born, to live and to die.
Sensing the change in the atmosphere, his mother quickly took charge. She gestured at someone who happened to be Renley, the butler. Renley marched forward with a soft pillow on which laid a crossbow.
It was one Sebastian instantly recognized. Their family came from a long line of hunters, men who were known far and wide and with pride, for their hunting talent that was unmatched by many other clans.
The crossbow was their family’s symbol… their heirloom and it had been passed from generation to generation six times. His brother Hanson had received this when he reached eighteen summers, as the heir.
Now that Hanson was gone and he was the only heir left, it was only traditional that it came to him.
Sebastian swallowed hard as he took the beauty in. It was a beautiful crossbow carved by the finest of craftsmen. One that had survived the years. Sebastian almost felt unworthy.
His mother took the beautiful piece from Renley and handed it over to his father, who held it out to him.
“Here you go, son. You are all we have left now and it rightfully belongs to you henceforth.”
It was overwhelming. His chest grew tight from all the conflicted emotions he felt. Most of the crowd had busied with their chatter, still, he was aware of many more eyes on them, watching this precious moment.
Reaching out, he accepted the bow from his father. It was very lightweight, he knew because he had held it several times… yet, it weighed a ton in his hands.
Sebastian knew it was the weight of the responsibility that had just been formally handed down to him. A testament of actuality.
As customary, he picked an arrow from the quiver another servant held out to him and turned to face the bull’s eye that had been kept in place. Taking his stance, he prepared to take his first shot.
He stood steady on his feet, his eyes on the target as he stretched the strings. Deep, steady breaths filled his lungs and when it was certain he could not take anymore, he released- both his breath and the arrow.
He kept his eyes on the arrow, the silence that had dawned ringing loud in his ears. Like a stroke of lightning, the arrow landed right on the bull’s eye, sticking firmly.
Cheers of applause erupted from the crowd and Sebastian threw up the hand that held the bow. The cheering grew and his parents gazed upon him with admiration and nostalgia in their eyes.
Nodding, because he understood the emotions they were experiencing, he dropped his arm and took a bow.
And so it was, that the traditional handover was completed.
He had watched Hanson do this and never in his wildest thoughts, had he reckoned that he would ever get to do the same.
It was all so surreal and as the noise quieted, he finally caught his breath, his heart receding from its stampede.
Chapter 4
Liliana had been to quite some balls before. Maybe no more than three or two but enough to become familiar with such events. Yet, she had never experienced anything like what had just happened.
She had been captivated by the moment it had begun, aware that something very significant was about to take place. She had watched the duke hand over the crossbow to the marquess. She had watched the marquess take his shot.
It had appeared such a simple moment, yet something deep in her stirred, affirming that it was much more than that.
“Father, that means something, does it not?” That was Nora. She had wandered off the moment they entered the ballroom, but it appeared she had found her way back to her family.
“Yes, my dear. It is the tradition of the Leighton family. Now, Lord Longcross has been declared the rightful heir to all of these. The crossbow is the family heirloom and he had performed the rite of acceptance.”
Liliana’s ears were perked in attentiveness.
“This is done every time there is a new heir?”
“When they come of age, yes. The late marquess was given the crossbow when he became eighteen summers. It is the customary age for one generation to hand over to the next.”
“I see… does it have to be on a birthday?”
“It usually is, yes. Although, if it had not happened so that the marquess’ birthday fell in time, I suspect they would have done a private ceremony, nevertheless. It is a very significant tradition, you see.”
Liliana nodded and from the side of her eye, she could see Nora mirroring her movement.
The conversation ended then, but she did not take her eyes off the marquess.
She had not been introduced to him formally, of course. They had arrived late and until now, there had not been time to meet with the marquess personally.
She knew her stepfather would achieve that feat before the evening ended. He was family, after all. Yet, even as she watched the marquess from a distance, something about him pulled her in.
It was the strangest thing she had ever felt and she could not fathom why he had such an effect on her. Once, he had caught her watching. Since she had tried to be discreet about her staring as much as she could, but she could not help it.
She could not even see the man behind the mask… only his eyes, and his lips. All else remained a mystery.
Yet, from his tall physique and the rumors, she could tell that he was a handsome man. The ladies had been fawning over him all evening.
It was good to know that the years had been good to the Lord. She wondered if he would remember her- yet, that would be almost impossible as she had settled for a full mask despite pleas to go for something more in fashion for ladies.
Because she would not budge, Nora had reluctantly picked a full mask, herself. She entertained fancies that the mask would make it even more difficult to tell them apart.
The notion of being confused for one another was something that had always thrilled Nora. For whatever reason, Liliana seemed unable to wrap her head around. Herself? She cared little for the confusion.
She would rather be Liliana and be recognized for being Liliana. Perhaps it was because Nora was so good at prete
nding to her, and had gotten both of them in trouble countless times over the years for that act.
Whatever it was, Liliana could not be bothered about their resemblance tonight. She was simply glad for the mask as well.
“Father has gone to bring his Lordship. Oh, the other ladies here shall be green with envy when they realize we have close ties with the golden heir.”
Liliana turned to look at her sister, wondering what she was rambling on about. The words slowly replayed in her head, understanding dawning. It was only then that she realized that while she had been lost in thoughts, her stepfather had left their side.