by Chanda Hahn
I blurred my own image, making myself fade into the background. Sneaking up on her, I tapped her on the shoulder. I pictured the spell clearly in my mind and held on to it. I was not afraid. I couldn’t be afraid.
She turned in surprise, and I touched her forehead. “Somnus,” I whispered. She fell to her knees and then plopped to the ground in a deep sleep. “I did it!” I whispered as I tried to contain my excitement over the successful completion of a sleeping spell. Reappearing amongst a group of bystanders, I rushed forward and leaned down with the manacles.
Cheers erupted as I clamped the manacles on Bellamy and waved over one of the guards to help. They came reluctantly to my aid. As more guards surrounded Bellamy, I noticed a familiar face come as well. Derek! Using more glamour, I created a mystifying haze, making it impossible to look straight at me, as I spit the button out of my mouth and joined the frightened ladies that had gathered together in a huddle for protection.
“Did you see that guard?” the woman with copper hair in a yellow silk dress asked. “He saved my life!”
It took over a candle mark for the chaos to calm back down, and they began to let the women back into the ball. I secretly hoped that they would cancel the whole ordeal after what happened. Then I could go home and try again later. But that wasn’t about to happen. More guards came and surrounded the entrance, and I shifted my weight from foot to foot in my glass slippers nervously.
The faun knew who I was, knew what had happened. There was no way he was going to let me through.
It was time. I was next. I stepped in front of the faun, closed my eyes, and waited for the word witch to come from his mouth. This was it. I wouldn’t get farther than the front door, but at least I could tell my mother I tried.
“Invitation,” a familiar voice declared.
I looked up and almost fainted. Derek had replaced the first guard. He was staring at me carefully, his brow furrowed in thought.
Grateful that I still had my handbag, I retrieved my invitation and held it out to Derek who looked it over carefully, probably trying to determine if it was forged.
“Eden De Ella.”
“Hmm, yes?” I looked up as he said my name—a name I was unfamiliar with. When I asked my mother, she had said, “It’s an old family acquaintance.”
After a few seconds, when Derek didn’t wave me through, my stomach dropped in trepidation. He knew.
“This might be her,” a voice spoke from the shadows.
My head snapped up in surprise when I saw the transport driver in an ill-fitting suit. He looked uncomfortable. Sweat dripped from his greasy hair that had been hastily combed over.
I held still as he leaned over and gave me a cursory glance. He blinked a few times and squinted but then shook his head. “Hard to tell with the mask on.”
“Would you remove your mask?” Derek asked.
My fingers trembled slightly as I slowly untied the mask and focused putting the slightest glamour over my face. There was nothing I could do for the color of my hair, but I could adjust everything under my mask. I widened my pert nose, and added a distinct beauty mark under my left eye. I gave the transport driver a confused and blank look when the mask came down.
“Naw, that’s not her.” He shuffled back into the shadows and waited.
The guard looked me over carefully, then turned to the faun. The faun’s face looked confused. He had probably sensed my magic. “Verik? What is your opinion?”
Verik, the faun struggled, his hands waving before me as he reached out to grasp my hands. I couldn’t help but see that nasty cut on his forehead. It needed to be bandaged and not to be left open and bleeding while he worked. Seconds ago, I was afraid, but now I was angry at his mistreatment. I wanted to ease his pain.
I reached out for him, touching the soft downy fur that lined his hands. “Here, I am right here.” Warmth spread through my body into his. He gasped and took a step backward, but he did not release my grip. His eyes were closed, and I could see tears pool in the corner. The wound stopped bleeding, and the cut healed before my eyes, but the blood still lingered, masking to the world that I had healed him.
“Ah!” he whispered. “It’s you.” When he opened his eyes, I could see they were no longer covered with a milky white film but were a startling hazel. Those eyes met mine, and he knew—knew I wasn’t just a human girl, that I was the one who had fought the witch and healed him from being blind.
I sucked in my breath and waited. Waited for him to call the guards and have me taken away and imprisoned.
His lips pulled back. My knees trembled beneath the gown as I waited for judgement to pass. He smiled softly, a twinkle in his eyes.
“Human,” he whispered.
“What?” Derek and I muttered at the same time.
“Human,” Verik said again. This time as an order, he commanded, “Let her pass.”
I didn’t understand what had happened, other than I had earned the respect of the truth seer. His head gave the slightest bow and tilted toward the doors. I replaced my mask and removed the glamour over my face.
Picking up my gown so I wouldn’t step on it, I strolled through the doors to the main foyer and paused in awe. Two staircases wound up either side of the room to the floors above, and below the staircases was another set of gold double doors leading down into a ballroom. From the main hall I could hear the symphony of musicians and their instruments—a harpsichord, flute, viola. The floor, a white-and-black-checkered marble, had an intricate blue runner down the steps, and it was there I almost lost my nerve, but I put one foot in front of the other and followed the crowd into the ballroom.
My breath caught as I surveyed the hundreds of beautiful gowns of taffeta, silk, and organza that paraded in front of me, swirling in a kaleidoscope of color.
The servants, dressed in white with matching domino masks, were walking around with silver trays, offering refreshments. The prince’s guards stood on the outer walls in their pressed black uniforms and white long-nosed masks called zannis. Scanning the crowd of sequins and pearls, I didn’t see the prince, and by the murmur of the women in front of me, I dare say he hadn’t yet made an appearance.
The queen was sitting on the throne alone, King Ferdinand absent and probably dealing with the witch they had taken captive. The queen seemed bored and was whispering to a servant, gesturing using her fan to single out and point at ladies in the ballroom.
I was surprised to recognize Nessa in a pale orange with a monarch butterfly mask, laughing shrilly and running her fingers over her own necklace, drawing attention to the stolen wealth. She picked up and pocketed a gilded fan a lady put down when she took a drink.
Keeping Nessa in my line of sight, I took a lap around the ballroom, being careful to watch the servants and guards.
I reached up to pull out the enchanted beetle. Whispering a word, I lifted it up into the air, and my spy took flight, looking for important gossip. I could hear the buzzing of the beetle’s wings until it landed on the shoulder of a young woman wearing a zebra mask.
“Why would he stand us up?” the zebra woman argued irritably. “You would think, if he called a ball, that he would at least attend it.”
“They’re taking extra precautions because of the witch that was captured outside. I’m surprised that the queen is in the room still,” her companion in a gold tiger mask spoke up.
“No, I bet he’s just waiting until we are all here so he can make a grand entrance.”
They were useless. Servants continued to offer drinks to the ladies, and I could pick up scattered bits of conversation, but under it all, there was still a bit of fear.
“Do you think the prince will actually choose a bride?”
“My feet hurt,” one whined.
“I can’t breathe in this dress,” another muttered.
“There’s no one here on the same level as us.”
Shallow. All of the conversations I picked up were self-centered and shallow, very befitting to the age and cast o
f the women who were here. It was easy to see a group of girls gather together in a corner seeking shelter. Their dresses were not as fine, their jewelry not as polished. They were probably the farmers’ and milliners’ daughters, those belonging to the lower caste. It was easier for them to group together. If they milled among the dresses way finer than theirs, they would look like a drab flower. They had better hope of outshining each other.
Thinking back to what the king had said about money, I slowly walked over to the ladies and brushed my hand gently across their dresses. The cheap fabric turned into silk. Tulle skirts filled out, and hundreds of gems and pearls appeared across their fabric. The homemade paper masks glittered with diamonds, and the girls shone with an inward beauty that demanded attention.
They wouldn’t notice the glamour, but others would. I smiled as my devious plot thwarted the king’s plan. Who knew, maybe one of them would win over the prince.
A page came forward and stood near the throne. The music ceased, and he loudly cleared his throat. “Ladies, Prince Evander has been delayed but will arrive shortly. So that you do not stand by idly, he has provided you with dance partners and music. The page clapped his hands, and the guards who were standing at attention on the sides stepped from their posts and entered the dance floor, each bowing before a woman. I was thrilled to see that the girls in dresses I glamoured were some of the first to hit the floor.
Astonishingly enough, there were the exact number of guards as there were ladies waiting for a partner. One made his way toward me, and I ducked behind a stone column. I had no interest in having any man’s hands on me, no matter how chaste a dance may be.
Thankfully, the guard took the hint and left me alone as I listened to more gossip.
“And then he pushed me out of the way of the witch and saved my life. It was so dramatic.” The copper-haired girl was relaying her adventure to one of the guards. “You don’t happen to know his name, do you?”
I held back my grin at her lack of subtlety.
When the waltz came to a halt, the guards switched partners, each of them rotating to the next available lady.
There were a few more dances, and it seemed that with each dance there were more and more guards standing on the sidelines. Where had they come from?
A guard with dark hair made his way to me, and I moved away, stepping closer to the thrones, hoping that I would hear some gossip. But my stupid beetle landed by an open window where a group of ladies were using their fans to cool themselves.
“I find this unacceptable,” a woman snarled irritably. “If I get chosen as his queen, I will make sure that this will never happen at a ball in the future.”
Her voice was low, and it hadn’t carried far, but a guard heard it and came forward and gently took her by the elbow, whispering softly into her ear. Her face paled and her hand went to her mouth. The two of them left the room, and a few moments later, the same guard returned without the woman.
Another guard guided a lady in an elaborate orchid-colored dress off the dance floor and into a side room, only to return a few minutes later alone.
They were thinning the crowd. They must be under certain orders to immediately reject a woman based on a certain criterion. My pulse started to race, and I became angry when I knew what that criteria was—money and probably personality.
By now I didn’t know if I necessarily hid my true intentions, for I was glowering behind my mask.
“I take it you’re not one for dancing.” A tall guard appeared near my elbow. He was leaning with his arms crossed against the same column that I had ducked behind earlier. “I haven’t seen you dance all night.”
“You’ve been watching me?” I asked, surprised. Turning, I studied the guard, seeing his blue-gray eyes peeking at me through the long-nosed mask. I saw the stubble along his chin and instantly recognized him beneath the mask
Dorian.
“Did you not like the mask I gave you?” he asked. “I have to say, it caused quite a bit of confusion when I approached the woman wearing it to find out it wasn’t you.”
I pinched my lips to keep from laughing as I imagined him going up and teasing Tess. Did he pull her onto the dance floor, try and seduce her with words? We were similar in height, and our hair close in color. How long was he with her before he realized it wasn’t me?
“Can you believe it, when I asked her where she got such a beautiful mask, she told me her fairy godmother.”
I rolled my eyes. “I told her there are no such things.”
“So, you did give it away. I’m a bit hurt, sparrow.”
“Now that I know it was your way of keeping tabs on me, I’m glad I parted with it. For I don’t want you following me around, and for that matter, why are you here?”
“I’m here because I have orders to be,” he said softly as he rocked back and forth on his heels.
“I bet,” I snapped.
“It’s true. I’m invaluable to the king. I provide him information.”
“You mean secrets.”
“Yes, I keep tabs on certain people for him, and he pays me very well.”
“You’re a spy?”
“Of sorts.”
“And tonight you are spying for the king?” I became uncomfortable. What if he figured out who I was and told the king? Dorian seemed extremely persistent, and I had no doubt he would eventually find out who I am.
“Yes.”
I fell silent. We stayed like that for a whole dance. Then Dorian gestured to the dance floor. “Would you like to dance?”
“No.”
“Let me guess. You can’t dance?”
“I’ll have you know that I dance just fine. It’s the company I reject,” I said irritably and moved away from him as I focused on more hints of conversation from the servant closest to me.
“The prince is not in his room,” a servant whispered to another. “I checked on my way down.”
“I wonder where he has gone to?” a male attendant muttered.
Dorian did not give up easily, and he came up behind me again. “By the way, I’m glad you’re okay,” he whispered over my shoulder.
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
“I heard about the skirmish outside. It could have been a lot worse.”
“You did?” My voice cracked, and I tucked my fidgeting hands into the folds of my skirt as I wondered how much he heard.
“I was worried that you were one of the ladies caught in the crossfire. A few were injured by flying debris; others left, too scared to even enter the palace. As I told you before, sparrow, this is a dangerous place and you don’t belong here.”
“My name is not ‘sparrow,’ and that is not for you to decide.”
“Actually, it is. I can snap my fingers and have you escorted out.” Dorian gripped my elbow and began to pull me toward the hall.
“Why do you dislike me so?”
“Dislike?” His lips turned down, and his grip tightened painfully. “I don’t dislike you.”
“Well, I dislike you,” I snapped, letting my anger get the best of me. I dug my fingernails into his arm. “Release me.”
Dorian grunted in pain and let go of my arm.
I turned to run away but almost bowled over another guard who was standing behind me.
“Sorry,” I muttered as he caught me, saving me from taking a hard tumble to the floor.
“One as beautiful as yourself, I would be a fool not to catch you.” The masked guard flashed me a charming smile.
Dorian glowered at me. Now that I was here, I wanted to stay—if only to annoy Dorian, who wanted me gone.
“Dance with me,” I begged, hoping to find safety within this new guard’s arms. I was happy as long as I was nowhere near Dorian.
The masked guard obliged. He grabbed me around the waist and spun me into the middle of the dance floor. I was unprepared for the spinning, and I let out a surprised sound that sounded like a bark, which set the man into full-throated laughter. At first, I clung to his shoulder and
arm, scared that the spinning would continue until I passed out, but he expertly maneuvered us into the middle of the floor.
“What do you think of this?” He gestured with our hands to the room full of people.
“I find it exhausting,” I answered truthfully.
“Really? Of all answers I expected tonight, that wasn’t one of them.”
“Then I will ask you the same question. What do you think of all this?”
I waited as he pondered the question. “You’re right. It is exhausting.”
“Yes, many women dressed in their very best to try and impress a prince they’ve never met, hoping to fall in love within seconds and live happily ever after. It’s ridiculous.”
My partner missed a step and spun me around. A mixture of swirling colors filled my vision, and then I was brought back and crushed against his uniform, and the long, white nose was back in my face.
“Then why come?” His voice was harsh, firm. I had upset him. “Why waste your time here if you don’t believe in any of this? Or is there a different reason for you to be here?”
I was proud when the word “revenge” wasn’t the first thing to leave my lips. I took a breath. “Because I don’t want to let my mother down.”
His mouth turned down in an unsightly sneer. “Let me guess, she’s a gold digger, forcing you to come in hopes of you marrying the prince.”
I gestured to the room full of prospective brides. “One man, hundreds of ladies, and whoever isn’t chosen will leave brokenhearted. The odds are not in my favor. So why is it, if I chose to protect my fragile heart and come to a ball. I am a gold digger? Have you ever done anything that your heart wasn’t in, just because you didn’t want to disappoint a parent? A mother maybe?”
He took a deep breath, his mask dipping toward the floor. “Yes.”
“Well, I’m adopted. I’m wearing shoes that don’t even belong to me and truthfully give me blisters.” I shifted my weight on my feet to prove how uncomfortable I was. He snorted. “I’m the least talented of my sisters and can’t for the life of me figure out why my mother would send me here when there isn’t anything special about me.”